#literally fucking everything every action and movement and way to exist in space

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: james bucky barnes x male reader

req: yes | wc: 1.37 | cw: enemies to lovers, slight nsfw ending, swearing | 16+

anon: Can you write an enemies to lovers with Bucky Barnes and male reader with a slight nsfw? 👉👈❤ (if not then just an enemies to lovers👉👈❤)

a/n: enemies to lovers are amazing but hard to write

James Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier and bane of your existence. 

You don’t know just why you hated him; in fact, you had some similarities, yet he still managed to piss you off just by breathing.

Everything about him was so damn irritating.

You’re sure he hated you too, but he never showed it as much as you did. You suppose that’s one of the ways he wins your arguments, he’s always calmer than you, less affected. He makes your blood boil but you can barely even make him mad.

Pathetic, really.

“What are you doing here?” You just wanted to train, you just wanted to go to the gym and work out in peace. Was that too much to ask for?

“Can’t I workout?” He responds with a roll of his eyes.

You despised that. Still, you had no real excuse to kick him out of the gym, nor did you want to leave just because of his presence.

As you do your thing, your weights, you can feel his stare on your back.

“What the fuck do you want, Barnes?” It’s until he’s looked you up and down that he snaps out of it. However, this time, unlike other times, he looks ashamed.

But he still bites his damn lip. “Spit it out.”

He looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Spit what out?” His voice doesn’t give you any hints as to what he feels, and shit, you hate it.

“Whatever you have to say.”

He scoffs, “I have nothing to say.”

“Clearly, you do.” He groans frustratingly, pissed off by your bullshit. Still, he says nothing, gives you no insult, doesn’t tell you how angry he is.

“I don’t.” Even if he doesn’t voice it, his actions say everything. “Look, if my presence bothers you that much, I’ll just leave.”

“Good!”

“Good.”

“It’s his damn stare, Sam.”

“I know, right?!” Sam laughs. The Falcon had as much of a grudge as you did with Bucky, except they could cooperate with each other much better than you could. Still, you bonded over it.

“But, be honest with me, (y/n). It’s not just the stare, is it?” His tone is suggestive, in a flirty kind of way. You’re repulsed at the thought of being intimate with the Winter Soldier, but as much as you despise him, your chest also warms up. You hope for hatred.

“What ever do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” He replies. The warmth in your chest increases.

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Come on!” He gives you an accusatory look, with a smirk that you want to punch off his face. Why is Sam your friend, again? “He pisses you off on a whole nother level than he pisses me off. Even I can tell.”

“Ugh, well…” You began relaying everything you hated about him and what he did.

He was serious and headstrong, although humorous and reckless at the same time. All the things you hated about him were silly, but dammit you would stick with them.

His vibranium arm, it felt like a cheat code. You’re sparring, he beats you, you’re arm wrestling, he refuses to use his normal arm, you’re arguing, he threatens to slap you with it. It’s all because of his damn powerful arm.

At times when his voice is so expressionless, yet his face gives away everything. If he’s going to glare at you, he might as well straight up tell you everything he feels about you.

The way he bit his lip when he was holding back an insult, you just wanted him to say it. What’s holding him back? Is it that bad that he thinks it’s going to affect you?

And most of all, his stare. You hadn’t noticed it since Sam brought it up but every time you noticed it, it never failed to anger you. Without fail, he looks you up and down, sizing you up as if you were about to throw hands; hell, you wanted to throw hands.

“(y/n), buddy, pal, dude... I’m pretty sure that’s sexual tension.”

“What the fuck, Sam?”

“Hey!” He raises his hands in a surrender motion. “I hate the guy too, but that’s a different kind of stare. He’s checking you out.”

“Sam-”

“Ey, ey, hear me out here.” The statement is usually followed up by a lengthy and logical explanation, but Sam isn’t the most logical of people. He puts his hands on your shoulders as if he’s about to tell you his whole life story before saying, “You’re emotionally constipated.”

“Sam!” You groan.

He gives you an all-knowing look. “You know it’s true.”

You roll your eyes, shake off his hands and walk out the room angrily. As you do, Sam shouts at you, “You can’t run from the truth, (y/n)!”

You don’t know how you ended up here. You don’t know when you and Barnes got so close that you could see every little detail of his face. You don’t know why you needed to be up in his face in the first place.

All you knew was that you were angry and you wanted to punch the Winter Soldier.

“It’s not my fault you pushed me under a literal bus!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a literal supersoldier!”

This was why you shouldn’t be put in the same mission without a mediator, hell, just together! If it wasn’t for his mistakes, and if it wasn’t for yours, the mission would’ve been fulfilled.

Any other person would’ve been good for the job.

At some point, he slapped you - with his non-metal arm. At some point, you balled up his shirt and pulled him towards you so that you scream in each other’s faces even closer. 

At some point, you stopped shouting.

Your talk earlier that week with Sam sprung back into your mind. God, that motherfucker was right. Bucky glanced down, at your lips. His eyes snapped up to your eyes just as quick but they kept trailing down then back up.

Normally, this would’ve pissed you off, but at the moment, you were doing the same thing.

“Fuck.” He mutters. The movement of his lips causes them to brush against yours… this was torture, it really was. You wanted to lean forward, kiss him; every fiber of your being told you to pull away, but everything told you to lean in at the same time.

“Fucking kiss me, coward.” That was your pushing point.

Despite you initiating the kiss, he kisses you with a fervor surely fueled by his anger. You don’t know how long it lasts, but by the time you pull apart, you’re both desperate for air.

“I like you, you idiot.” Bucky’s voice is softer now. His eyebrows furrow, though the gesture is no longer irritating to look at.

Instead of giving a reply, you kiss him again. His lips are gentle and tender, yet they’re chapped at the same time. It’s not a nice texture to be kissing, but you weren’t being nice either.

As you get lost into the kiss, your grip on his shirt falters. He takes both your hands, delicately, and brings them together to hook around his waist. His own settle on your hair, tugging you as close to him as possible.

“Do you like me too?” He sounds desperate. 

“I-” Your chest warms up, like it always does around him; and fuck, you realize it’s not anger, but attraction. He looks absolutely beautiful. “Does the kissing not tell you enough?”

“No,” He doesn’t banter with you. “tell me how you feel.”

Your heart tells you yes, your brain tells you yes, you like him and you want him. “I like you.”

Bucky smiles genuinely, but it’s not long before his face changes entirely. His eyes are half-lidded, and he smiles lazily yet playfully as he hooks a leg around your hip and pulls you closer to him. The grunt you let out as your pelvises press against each other only spurs him on.

The only space between you two is now between your lips, but he’s soon to seal that too.

Neither of you care that you’re at an alleyway out in public, despite that, neither of you bother to move. 

He wants your right here, right now, and nothing’s stopping him.

[0poole]

I LOVE No Straight Roads

Honestly it’s hard to keep me away from a game with great visuals and even greater character design. I knew from the INSTANT I saw these characters that I was going to love it. I just finished it because it’s (unfortunately) pretty short, and even though I cheesed the final boss through it’s very lenient death mechanics (Instant respawn at the cost of a good rank) I actually appreciated that it wasn’t a pure cake walk. I’ve yet to rematch all of the bosses, but since I had genuine trouble with the later ones I’ll hold off on that.

But who cares about gameplay, am I right? I sure as hell don’t. I would’ve bought the game no matter what the hell it was. I wanted the characters (and the music, although I realized that second) and that was it. 

First of all, I love any world that is super fantastical but cheesy in its concept, ala a city powered by music, and battles between artists using music. Ideas like this only spawn from a mind that wants to create a fun atmosphere, if nothing else, and it was sure as hell fun. I genuinely love when someone goes so far into a crazy idea and doesn’t waste your time explaining it with real world logic. Wanna know how a city can be powered by music? Shut up and look at the cute virtual mermaid. Lord knows I did. Every once in a while, it does you good to just let the player/reader/viewer just revel in the idea without having to go out of your way to make things seem realistic. It’s not about “turning your brain off” or whatever, it’s picking your battles.

Also, I can seriously love a world with great background characters to it. Any game with the right situation to insert the random nobodies you find onto the streets into the art in the credits really played into the greatness of the world’s less important characters, and that’s always a good thing. It’s technically world building. But, since I always love to pick favorites, I’d have to say my favorite background character is easily Mia, the NSR infodesk assistant. It’s funny, because you can literally search “nsr characters” into Google and she’s the third image result. I love how jumpy she is when you first interact with her, since NSR probably spread the word about B2J suggesting they’re rock thugs who’d beat up anyone, so for all she knows she could die right then and there with a guitar lodged in her skull. She’s probably just some intern trying to pay for college. She don’t want trouble.

Also, I just realized that 90% of the characters in this game have the same body structure that I always love, that being having arms/legs that sort of fan out in width into relatively large hands/feet. It’s a kind of limb structure I fall into so much because it just really hits me right for some reason. I really can’t explain why.

Anyways, I gotta talk about the big boys individually:

Mayday and Zuke are an amazing duo. I’m always a sucker for a cute and crazy girl, but honestly Zuke hit so many of the right notes too. I will say it’s weird to pair the martian Zuke with the humanly-skinned Mayday, but honestly it doesn’t even matter because he looks so cool on his own. I love his weird blocky blue dreadlocks, and his weirdly shaped shirt which bares his chest in the weirdest way... And, oh my god, Mayday’s weird Spongebob background flower eyes? It’s little tidbits like that that really make me jealous. How could I have ever thought of that? It looks so perfect, and I don’t know why. And her little booty jig she does in her idle animation? Adorable. I played as her as much as was reasonable not only because I’m a filthy button masher with little strategy but also because she’s so damn cute. I can also appreciate how she has a tough-as-nails persona while still keeping a semi-girly attitude, like with her falling for 1010 and Sayu. Characters are so much better when they’re a perfect blend of characteristics, instead of being all one-note, like how Zuke is the quiet one but gets heated against DK West, and all. 

Honestly the voice acting for every character is great, but I love when Mayday’s VA’s accent shows through. It’s a perfect twang to accent (consider this the only acknowledgement of a pun in this post) her snarkiness. 

DJ Subatomic Supernova was going to be an easy favorite since he’s all space-themed. Also, I don’t know why I always end up liking the egotistic characters. Not in the sense that I like their egotistic-ness, but in the sense that I like everything else about them and they just so happen to also be egotistic. The same applied with Empoleon (maybe like my 2nd favorite Pokemon) and Rarity from MLP, probably among others. Either way, I’ll never not love space themes. Not to mention he’s got a funky disco theme, and I’m slowly starting to realize that I am in extreme love with techno-funk styles of music. The instant I heard his music he cemented his place into my playlists. 

As for design, I still have no idea what the fuck he is. Clearly AI is at human levels in this world, but if he’s a robot why does he still have hairy legs? But, if he’s a human, is that weird orb his head? Is it just some sort of puppet which he controls from inside his giant jacket? I know I dissed explaining things realistically but I actually want to know with this guy. Even the wiki doesn’t say. Either way, he’s clearly the logical extreme of “being at the center of your own universe.” Even his jacket depicts a solar system, with his hood being the sun. Didn’t see that until I tried to draw him. I really wish this guy wasn’t so tied to his DJ stand so I could reasonably draw him without it. I don’t want to draw his hairy ass legs. It is a great touch for his design though (although I prefer his beta look with pants and long boots, another design trait I tend to gravitate to) since DJs could reasonably not wear pants, since they’re always behind a table.

Sayu is my favorite. It’s so plainly obvious. It’s weird to say that sometimes, because some characters like Sayu are so clearly engineered to be as adorable as possible, to the point where they’re basically a parody of whatever they’re supposed to be emulating, but then they do that so well that they are still likable for what they’re trying to parody. Also, even though I’ve never looked into any vocaloid superstars myself, the fact that they exist and are loved in real life is absolutely perfect to be used as a character design in a world like this. It’s so weird conceptually, but we all know it’s normal and realistic. But yeah, she’s a giga-cutie whom I’ve already drawn and I’ve listened to her theme on loop on many different occasions. Favorite character, favorite track, favorite weapon of choice (What did I say about Empoleon?), which, and I wouldn’t have noticed this myself, looks like the USB symbol you see above USB ports on computers. How crazy perfect is that?

Even apart from my unbridled love for cute monster robot(?) girls, her boss fight is probably the 2nd greatest of them all, at least conceptually. She’s just a hologram, so you can’t touch her, but you CAN disconnect the artists which control her in order to defeat her. It’s the kind of concept for a boss fight that could only work for this type of character. I’m a sucker for the cute girl that provides her voice, but I love how the animator (video editor? the yellow one) actually attacks you with a mouse and lowers the brightness of the setting once he appears. Also, the mocap guy being the deeply-voiced type but still providing the adorable movements of her body. It’s such a great combo of characters, and their little extra art in the credits makes me like them even more. I just wish we could interact with them individually.

DK West was probably one of the most interesting characters visually, especially since I knew of every other NSR member long before the game came out, but I only just heard of him closer to the release. I wasn’t sure where he was placed, but I definitely assumed his gig was the weird shadow demon we saw in the trailers. When I finally saw him in game, I was shocked to hear him speak an entirely different language most of the time, which was really cool. Also, finding out he was tied to Zuke and wasn’t strictly an NSR artist really made him more interesting. You know, if his fucking shadow clone magic didn’t make him crazy cool enough. Even though I suck at his game and am not especially fond of his raps, the visual of him rapping with this giant monster behind him and dozens of weird shadow wingmen by his side hyping him up was probably one of the coolest in the entire game. The dark way they were hyping him up too gave such a bizarre atmosphere, especially since it parallels his seemingly chill and smiley demeanor. 

I definitely hope they’ll introduce new bosses as DLC in the future, and make them sort of in the same vein as DK West, where they aren’t the biggest artists ever, but they want to pick a fight with B2J. I’d kill for any extra content this game can provide.

Yinu is obviously special since she was the subject of the demo they put out for the game. Even though I knew all her bells and whistles, she and her mom still beat me a few times in the full game. Considering she’s semi-tied to story-ish spoilers I kinda want to go more into her in a separate section. It is worth considering playing the game first since it’s not hard (with the easy going deaths) and it’s short length.

1010 seriously grew on me as I learned more about them and interacted with them. I got their shtick when I first looked at them, but after seeing that animation of them touring the city on Youtube I was kinda falling for them. Then, I learned that they’re apparently repurposed navy war robots? I mean, maybe not them specifically, but it seems to heavily point in that direction, with the warship cars and “attention!”s and all. It took me a bit to get into their music too, but once I actually fought them and put their actions to the music I fell in love with it. I swear, Neon J’s weird dancing can has some of the smoothest moves in all of gaming. I don’t know whether they mocapped out those movements or got one of the greatest animators ever, but it looks so impossibly clean his part of the song gets me like 30x more hype than it would normally. 

Also, their little art piece of them looking at fan mail in the credits is probably one of the most adorable things ever. Even if they’re just Neon J’s puppets, that piece of art really makes it seem like they love every one of their fans. I’m not gonna lie, I might swoon a bit too if they picked me out and gave me some special attention.

Oh yeah, and the fact that Mayday was super sad in her showstopper against them was adorable and hilarious at the same time. The little tweaks they made to the showstopper for each fight were great.

Eve just has to be Lady Gaga, right? Like, an even crazier Lady Gaga. DJSS is Daft Punk (or any artist with a helmet persona, you know what I’m talking about), Sayu is Hatsune Miku, DK West is Kanye West, Yinu is a generic child protege, 1010 is a KPop boyband (just pick one) and Eve is Lady Gaga. That’s just how things are. But, again, this is the kind of boss fight that only this type of character could provide. It’s not just surreal imagery, it’s ARTISTIC surreal imagery. The fight is so mesmerizing in every way, especially by how it starts off so slow and calm and progresses to insanity, as well as the increased emotional investment in the fight making you feel so much more into it than just “That’s the boy band. Let’s fight.” Not only does it get you more invested, but it makes her artistic persona go deeper than just “she looks weird.” She is genuinely conflicted about her relationship with Zuke, and naturally that leads her to literally split him and Mayday apart. That mechanic specifically was the coolest, although I do wish they made it more obvious when you needed to switch over to a different side. I was getting pulverized by her fight too, since there were so many things to pay attention to. Her fight was definitely the best one. 

Tatiana and Spoilers:

Let’s be real with ourselves, the twist was so obvious. I do also think, though, that obvious twists aren’t bad if they’re just good reveals. At some point, a person just has experienced so many stories that “only pretty good” twists are easy to spot. It doesn’t mean that the twists are bad, it just means you yourself experienced.

I feel like her transition from rock to EDM was pretty understandable, even as a non-musician. She was so caught up in what she assumed was popular that it basically consumed her. It’s easy as an artist to want to forgo what you truly want to make in favor of what makes you popular, and clearly since her transition to EDM made her the CEO of the biggest company in the city (world?) that probably made her think she truly needed to change her outlook. Then, when she saw B2J try to bring it back, she sort of coined them as being as misguided as she was and knocked them down a peg. Plus, they were kinda being jerks about it.

It’s kinda like the Trolls sequel, where everyone pegs rock music fanatics as being too stuck up in their own heads to appreciate other types of music, which honestly seems more like the case than the alternative. When I first heard of the story of the game, I was seriously hoping they did put an asterisk on B2J’s ambitions because they were a bit sketchy from the start. 

That’s kinda where I want to talk about Yinu, because she was the true turning point in what they were doing. She’s literally 9 and yet she’s getting dragged into all this BS. When she said “I hate you all” at the end of her fight, and played a somber tune on her broken piano after the fight destroyed it, you kinda got a kick in the face to realize you’re kinda being an asshole to some of them. Sure, they fight back, but they wouldn’t fight in the first place if they didn’t have to. They are just people who play music under a joint name that B2J just so happened to get in hot water with. 

Then, of course, there’s Kliff, who also reeked of surprise villain, and who’s basically the embodiment of the bad side of B2J, where he just wanted to destroy for his own sake and not for the actual greater good. Once B2J realized their mistake, they backed off, but Kliff was so hard pressed to do what he planned on in the first place he wouldn’t stop. I kinda wish he got a bigger fight to his own since he’s clearly a big enough tech genius to divert a whole satellite into one specific building. Maybe the Elliecopter chase bit was his thing, but I do kind of wish he was there to fight against them too.

Even though Tatiana did kind of reform a bit quick, It’s still not too crazy to assume she could see that B2J was just misguided and the fact that they worked to revert their wrongdoings for her sake would make a pretty strong impressions. They clearly can hold their own, so it’s not like she wouldn’t want them to join NSR too. 

Oh yeah, and her boss fight was clock/time themed. If there’s a theme under space that I love, it’s clocks/time. 

And If I am to be respected by the internet, I must provide a negative opinion to balance out my positive one. I will say that the character model physics (like Mayday’s braids, DK West’s vest thing, Neon J’s fluffy neck thing, etc) got kinda funky at times. Especially DK West’s vest, which was completely messed up for every scene he was in... Also, even though the voices are mostly great, some lines felt a bit off. Just a bit. That good enough? Good.

But yeah anyway that’s another favorite game to add to the pile. Eventually I’m gonna have to compile a true list of my all-time favorite games/movies because I do kind of want to have a solid idea of what my all-time favorites are.

[shadowfae]

We’re all pretty aware that the tumblr otherkin community is at a huge decline; I was wondering if you have any theories as to why that is?

American Protestantism, the decline of queer oppression in North America and the AIDS crisis, helicopter parenting, web 3.0, morality politics, and  Tumblr’s porn ban; roughly in that order and rolled up into one bombshell that was a few years in the coming but nobody really saw it and understood it until it was far too late.

That was a mouthful and probably only made sense if you follow current cyberpolitical theory. For some of you reading this, as with every other hot take I have this has a chance of being passed around, that alone is enough. But for others who had no idea what I just said and need the ELI5 version, let me explain that. Buckle up, this’ll be a long one, and will go into fandom history a bit as well because it is actually relevant.

As we know, tumblr is a very American-centric platform. Twitter is also this way, but less so, but tumblr has it bad. Now, I’m ‘lucky’ in the fact that I’m Canadian and a twenty minute drive from the American border, so that puts me in the ‘privileged’ majority. (I say privileged because I’m not really sure what else to call it. Most of the information going around about politics either directly affects me or indirectly affects me approximately one or two links of contact away. Someone who’s only influenced by American politics because it makes their sister’s online friends sad is not going to be privileged in that way.)

This means that American politics and their social climate overwhelmingly affects tumblr’s social climate. This also bleeds through into other fandom spaces, on twitter, instagram, and Pixiv to name a few places; but here’s where I spend the majority of my time so here’s what I’ve witnessed.

America’s main religion, as far as I understand (from the raised agnostic and currently neopagan view I have), is some weirdass capitalistic-Protestantism that is so many miles from what the actual Bible says that if I were a betting man and knew more about cults than I did, I’d say it’s some weird fucking cult and never set foot in the country again for any reason that isn’t gaming free shipping through a PO box. If you have no idea what I just said but are at least vaguely familiar with Christianity, this graphic explains it pretty well. So we can see there’s some glaring issues with that ideal.

The decline of queer oppression and the rise of queer rights in North America, which is to tenderly include my own country but we all know when people say ‘in NA’ they mean ‘America, and Canada where it applies because the right-wing Republicans are really good in the propaganda department to convince everyone that Mexico is a drug-lords-and-anarchy wasteland to the point where even I don’t actually know what’s down there other than bad drivers and heat’; means two things. One, it’s a good thing by a long shot and do not mistake this as me thinking queer oppression being lessened is a bad thing. But two, it means that thanks to the AIDS crisis, queer folks lost a lot of first-person sources as history.

The queer elders in NA who survived are typically either a) bitter anarchists who are often POC, probably still dirt poor and do recreational drugs or b) university-tenured TERFs (trans exclusionary radical feminists). Category A are the people who Republicans have deemed worthless in every way, because racism, queerphobia, ableism, and all the other ways to be wrong and different and Evil that they can’t handle, because Jeezus would never want them to actually learn to love someone who wasn’t just like them, and they don’t have the compassion to do better. Category B are the people who want to be different in just a teensie little bit, typically with TERFs they want to be lesbians, but they don’t want to challenge the status quo. They’re fine with the way things work, they just want to be on top oppressing others over ripping the whole damn thing down and building a more forgiving system.

Now, due to all those ‘isms and the cheerfully malicious aid of the Republicans, pun not intended but drives home the cruelty of it all, we also see the rise of helicopter parenting. The invention of the internet did not really help this. Basically what you’ve got is a whole bunch of parents who saw the civil rights movement, just got access to the internet and things going viral, know the world is changing, and like all parents, they’re scared for their children. Now instead of parents knowing one or two people in their classes who just went missing one day and everyone assumed they ran away, they hear about eight homicides in the city of kids going to parks at night and dying. The Satanic Panic was another event around this time that contributed to that, but I’ll let you research that one.

This means that all of these parents, instead of doing what their parents typically did and let their kids wander off for the day so long as they’re back by sundown, they can’t let their children out of their sight. There might be a freak accident where their child is decapitated on the playground swing! Their baby might get murdered by an evil Satanist walking home from school! Their dearest darling might go online and tell their address to someone who’s got a 100% chance of being a pedophile who will show up and kidnap them in the night!

…You get the idea. 

Combine those three things I just established, what we’ve got is a lot of queer kids who have a lot of internalized shame for being different and wrong, because they’re queer, and they can’t find spaces offline to be themselves, because all of the elders who would do that are dead and/or inaccessible and their parents won’t let them go to any clubs that aren’t school-related, which they’ll never find a GSA or queer club because Republicans, ‘isms, propaganda, and the war on Category A queer adults have all done their best to ensure that those spaces don’t exist.

So you have a generation of kids who I am the youngest of. The first generation on the internet. The late Web 1.0 (usenets and Geocities) and early Web 2.0 (livejournal was the big one, ff.net too, also 4chan but fuck those guys) generation. What we were taught was: trust nobody on the internet with your real info no matter how much you like them, this is a wilderness and any crimes that happen won’t be punished or seen so don’t put yourself in a position where you’re going to be the victim of one, and everything you put online is never getting taken down so don’t put anything up that you’re not willing to have on the front page of your local newspaper.

This worked out pretty well, actually! You had kids who knew that if they got in trouble, there was no backup coming to save them. Because the form that backup might take - parents and police - wasn’t going to help. Best case, they’d be banned from their friends and online support groups for being queer. Worst case, they’d be jailed and put in juvie and conversion therapy and turn to drugs and become evil Satanists just like everyone says they secretly are already. So they learned very quickly to take care of themselves. Nobody was going to save them, so they learned to not need saving.

And then, well, Web 2.0 shifted to Web 3.0. Livejournal died because parents - the Warriors for Innocence was the big name - went “gasp how horrible my children are being exposed to the evil pedos and homosexuals they’re going to do drugs and die of AIDS!”. Which is uh. It’s filled with a lot of bigotry, and I’m not excusing them - absolutely I am not - but you can kind of see where they’re coming from, if you tilt your head and squint.

Either way, LJ died, tumblr took its place, Facebook was fast taking off, and the fandom folks who had seen mailing lists go inactive, web admins take their fanfic sites down due to copyright, entire fandoms burnt to the ground in flame wars, said ‘fuck that we’re making our own place’ and that’s how AO3 got made.

That’s important. A lot of folks move to AO3, because well, the rules let them. The rules say ‘you can throw literally anything up here so long as it’s fan content and is not literally illegal, so we don’t get taken down’. It’s a swing for the first generation internet users, those kids who know this place is a wilderness and are carving out our own sanctuary.

But. The children under us. The children for whom AIDS is a nightmarish fairy tale, for whom the ghost stories are conversion therapy, for whom know they can’t really talk to their parents about being queer but can trust they probably won’t get kicked out over it. The children who haven’t spent ten seconds without supervision except online, and their reaction isn’t ‘oh thank god I’m finally free to express myself’ but ‘if I get in trouble, who will protect me?’.

And there’s nobody there. Because we went in knowing there was no backup. And that was fine. But now, the actual adults have figured out that hey uh, maybe we should make cyber laws? Maybe we should make revenge porn and grooming children over the internet crimes? And they grew up with that. They grew up learning that no, even if your parents are suffocating and controlling, they’re always be there for you! Some adult will always be there to protect you!

That isn’t the case. It’s not. But they expect it, because it’s always been done for them. They don’t really want to change the status quo, because that means doing it themselves. They can’t do that, because they don’t know how, they’ve been controlled for every single part of their lives thanks to helicopter parenting and without that control, they don’t know how to keep their lives together, and they demand someone come and control it for them, without restraining them.

Effectively, they want someone to ensure they never face the consequences of their actions. Helicopter parents will rescue you from whatever you did, because you’re their precious baby and it doesn’t matter if you punched a kid, you can do no wrong and the other kid clearly started it.

But being queer is doing wrong. Being queer is something Jeezus doesn’t approve of. So they want to make it something he could approve of! But if it’s too off what they consider to be okay, if it’s too different and weird and wrong and evil, that can’t do, that’s still bad, and they’re precious angels, and children, and minors, why are we the adults not protecting them and letting them see it? Why aren’t we being just like their parents  but queer-friendly, why aren’t we protecting the children?

The adults who taught us were the children of those who died as a result of AIDS. The eldest of my generation knew some of them personally. My therapist’s younger brother died at 20 of AIDS, and she told me what it was like. But they don’t have that. These kids of web 3.0, they don’t have that. What they have is over-controlling parents, and the expectation that someone will always be there to protect them but hopefully in ways that don’t hurt them this time, no real understanding of why Category A queer elders are the way they are, and so much internalized shame that they have to do some pretty fancy logic-leaping to keep them from collapsing entirely.

They can’t turn into Category A queer youngsters, because they don’t know how to unravel the system around them, because they’ve never had to actually make choices in their lives and live with the consequences, because they don’t have the example of how to do it. They can’t unravel their internalized shame because again, that’s hard and they don’t have their parents to take away the consequences and pain. It doesn’t come easy to them, so it may as well not come at all.

But, you ask, if Category A queer elders aren’t around to teach the kids, then how are they learning anything positive at all? Well, Category B, our university-tenured TERFs, who don’t want to change the status quo but want to just be at the top of it instead.

For a lot of kids who don’t know how to make hard choices but want to be queer, this is an extremely attractive option. But when they go online to queer spaces, a lot of them say fuck terfs, we don’t support your hate, and they go ‘yeah okay that makes sense’. They can say fuck terfs without ever actually questioning why terfs are bad. They’re Bad and Evil, just like drug addicts, just like fairytale nazis, just like the evil homophobes.

And we saw them say ‘yeah fuck terfs’ and we were like, ‘aight you got it’ and we never questioned if they actually understood us. They didn’t. They didn’t, and we didn’t do enough to fix it, because not enough of us realized the problem. So terfs got a little sneaky. They hid behind dogwhistles and easy little comments, hiding their rhetoric in queer theory that you’ll absolutely miss if you just memorize it and never actually question it and understand why that point is being made.

This goes back to America sucking, because their school system is far more focused on rote memorization over actual logic and understanding of the text. They’re engaging with queer theory the way they’ve been taught, which is memorize and don’t think, don’t question. Besides, questioning and understanding is hard. Being shown different points of view and asked what they think is not only hard but requires them to go against all of the conditioning that says to just listen and agree and never question it, which goes back to tearing the system and internalized shame down, and we’ve established they can’t do that so naturally they don’t do that.

This begets, then, the rise of exclusionary politics. They’re turning into Category B queer youngsters, because we told them ‘hey that’s a terf talking point what are you doing’ and they never questioned why. They learned you can do all sorts of things, just don’t say X, Y, or Z, because they never thought deeply about it.

The children who have grown on Web 3.0 do not want to do any heavy lifting to make things easier for themselves long-run. They want to do as little as possible and have things get better for them. There isn’t enough of us left in Category A, because Category B terfs are very good at recruiting young folks and Cat. A is overwhelming poor, dead, and easily dismissed in the system as evil and bad, so we can’t exactly convince the young folks to listen. If all of the young kids could agree to tear down the system, a lot more older folks might listen. Change always starts with the young, and there’s a reason for that.

But Republicans have figured out, if you get people fighting, they never put together a force that can actually stop you. TERFs, who want the exact same thing as Republicans but with themselves on top, are doing this to queer youth, and Cat. A elders can’t fight back because there isn’t enough of them and the odds are against them, and the young folk like me who follow their lead.

People can kinda handle gay people. It’s not so far from the acceptable normal that it’s impassable. But you want them to handle kinky people? Gay people of colour? Kinky gay people of colour? Trans people? Those are bridges too far to step across. The original idea was to get the foot in the door with marriage equality and inch our way through with racial equality, sex positivity, dismantling ableism and perisexism (forgive me if that isn’t the word for anti-intersex ‘ism), and see if we can’t patch up the system instead of inciting a civil war over this and have to tear down the system entirely.

Well, we might’ve managed that if not for AIDS being the perfect ‘Jeezus is killing all the evil gay people for being sinners’ propaganda machine. As it stands now, not a chance in hell. So long as Republicans and terfs keep everyone fighting, nobody has the power to dismantle their empire, and they stay in power.

So then, you ask me, “Lu what the fuck does that have to do with the decline of otherkinity on tumblr???” and now that you’ve got all that background knowledge, here is your answer.

Those children who want their experiences curated for them and the evil icky content they don’t like to be gone because it disgusts them and anything that disgusts them is clearly sinful problematic and should be destroyed, are what we call ‘antishippers’, or anti for short.

They like being progressive. Sort of. They learned what Republicans and terfs have honed to a fine talent: keep people fighting, hold them to a bar they have to constantly make or risk being ostracized, and harass the people who don’t play along into getting out of your sight forever. Sound familiar?

They learned of otherkinity, and particularly fictionkind, because web 3.0 means if something goes viral on one site, it doesn’t just go viral on that site, it makes it to worldwide newspapers and twitter and nobody ever, ever fucking forgets it. They realized the following: “Hey wait, if I’m this character for realsies, not only does it help me deal with the internalized shame I’ve done nothing to actually fix because that takes work, I can also tell these people who draw gross content I don’t like they’re hurting me personally, and that actually sounds credible, and I can shame them into stopping”.

If this is your first time here and that sounds sickening, it damn well should, and I am so, so sorry that any of us had to witness this, and I am more sorry I and everyone else who personally witnessed this didn’t realize what was going on and put a stop to it. I answer asks and browse the tags and clear up misinformation and it isn’t just a genuine desire to help. It’s damage control, and my own way of trying to deal with the guilt of not stopping this. I’m well aware I couldn’t have seen it coming, I was a teenager myself still learning and no one person has that much power. I still feel like I should have done more, and I’ll do what I can to fix what’s within my power to fix.

So back to the story. This all culminates around 2016 or so. Trump wins the election, and every queer person ever knows they’re fucked, and the younger generation’s only ever heard horror stories, never seen actual oppression that this could bring. We’re all scared. We all don’t know what to do. Nobody has any answers or any control over the situation.

So they lash out. They attack others for drawing things they don’t like, for challenging them in literally any way, for asking them to reconsider the vile shit they just said, for so much as defending themselves from the harassment they just got. And when challenged, they yell “But I’m a minor! A literal child! How dare you attack me, clearly you get off on this, you evil pedophile!” and they sling around every insult in the book until one sticks. Pedophile is a pretty good one, so is abuser, and sometimes zoophile works out too. Freak is great, everyone gets right pissed off about it.

The fact that Category A queer elders were called pedophiles and freaks is not a fact they know or care about. The fact that they are quickly making every fandom community super toxic is also not a fact they care about. The fact that the ‘kin community has words and terminology and they actually mean shit, and the fact that they’re spreading misinformation faster than we can keep up with, are not facts they care about.

So they come in, take our terms, make it impossible for us to find new folks. They realize our anger is easily a power trip, because we’re already made fun of, so they get off on the little power they can find and make fun of us too, and then when we get rightfully annoyed and pissed off, they can hide behind being minors.

Then tumblr implements their porn ban, because nobody’s stopping them, because it isn’t profitable to have porn on here. Considering most of the otherkin community, and most fandom communities, are full of adults who do occasionally talk about NSFW things, and the fact that they’re just banning everyone who so much as breathes wrong, this begins the start of a mass exodus, scattering already fragile communities to twitter, pillowfort, dreamwidth, and a few other places. Largely, twitter, where you can’t make a post longer than a snappy comeback and where the algorithm is literally designed to piss you off as much as possible.

So community elders have largely left, because they can’t stand the drama and the pain of what’s happened, and that’s if they didn’t get banned for being kinky furries who do talk about how their kintypes merge with their sexuality. Most community members have also left or stopped talking about being ‘kin, because they get associated with antishippers and toxicity and it’s just not worth it. Those of us who are left get drowned out by misinformation and trolls and wishkin and antishippers who appropriate our terminology because it supports them getting a power trip, and whenever we argue, we get called pedophiles and freaks and worse.

And now there isn’t much left. I hope we get to find a better place. Othercon was a good place to talk about it, I did a whole panel (it’s on Youtube!) about what we want to do about it. But I don’t really have any answers. 

But to sum it all up... America’s political climate ultimately culminated in destroying queer spaces, and we survived, and then people who wanted to destroy smaller communities to get on top showed up and we were all but defenseless against something we had never, ever dealt with before on this scale.

One of my twitter mutuals mentioned how kinning and otherkin are now completely separate communities. It’s really the best I can do to keep hoping that continues, until nobody realizes the words are at all connected to each other. It’s the best anyone can hope for, now. I hate it. I hate every part of this. But maybe we can salvage what’s left.

[angelguk]

→ trial and error — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 2.1k

genre: college!au + angst + best friends!au

warnings: nothing extreme folks just jk being kinda sad / vague mentions of past mental health issues / oc is an aries / love confessions / unrequited love

soundtracks: hand over hand, roland faunte + lvr boy, awfultune

The first time he felt it he was seventeen. It didn’t hit him quick or hard. Instead, it was slow, a gradual drifting of his heart closer and closer to you until he felt it fall right out of his chest and into your hands. He didn’t mind it, the fall. What hurt was that you didn’t know you held his heart. And within it the undying adoration he had for you, thumping painfully against his rib cage as if it was begging to be released. He knew it was love. There was no other word for it. It was there in the way his cheeks would burn whenever you smiled at him, there when you’d tackle him in the hallway with a hug and Jeongguk would feel his insides melt with giddiness, and there when you managed to coax a laugh out of him even on his bad days. There was no other word to describe the security he felt within your presence. Seen and loved and acknowledged. You listened when no else would, held him together when he felt like he was crumbling apart, tended at the bruises marring his heart. Jeongguk needed you like he needed oxygen. Even when you’d argue (usually over something trivial) he found himself crawling back to you. Ribbons intertwine your souls together, and Jeongguk has happily lost himself in the mess of them.

He thought you’d see it too one day. Thought you’d feel it in the way he held you, the way his gaze lingered on you. Instead, he watched you fall in love with everyone but him.

It was easy to subdue it in high school, observe the flowers you received from admirers on Valentine’s day with a bitter smile. He’d never had the courage to slip a note in your locker or hand you a bouquet of roses, too terrified he’d destroy the most important relationship in his life with the greed of his heart. So he swallowed the confessions on his tongue and trudged through life pretending the only person who he wanted to be with wasn’t you. Yet, somehow, it got a million times worse in university. There had barely been any barriers in your relationship but suddenly Jeongguk felt his walls appear. It’s kind of hard to act like everything is normal after walking in on your best friend (and the love of your life) getting rawed in the bathroom of a frat party. Jeongguk had laughed it off, of course. What else was he supposed to do? But did he seek out the prettiest girl in the party and fuck her just to get back at you mentally? Maybe. That’s his secret to tell.

And from there it had descended into a spiral of boy after boy climbing into your sheets, touching you in ways that Jeongguk can only dream of. It infuriates him, spiking a pit of jealousy in his soul that he didn’t know existed. Because what did you see in them that you didn’t see in Jeongguk? He knew you better than any of those brief flings. You’d been friends since that day on the playground when Jeongguk hadn’t been able to push himself on the swing so you’d volunteered to help him. Back then, you towered over Jeongguk, big enough to control the playground during recess with your domineering and direct mannerisms. He liked that you controlled the world around you, fearless with every sure step forward. Jeongguk had looked up to you then - both literally and in admiration. Then his growth sprout hit him and you had stayed under his chin despite the bizarre stretches you did every morning religiously. Yet, even as you aged together, the spark in you never went out. In fact, it shone brighter. So bright that sometimes you blinded Jeongguk with your fervour. But he liked it too much to ever flee from the glow of your orbit. You held him in place with the secret glances you share, the soft smiles you gave him after hours of being cooped up in his room, studying together for your respective majors. It’s the history that gives him hope; even though you still fall into bed with men Jeongguk thinks are beneath you and he still distracts himself with faceless girls who don’t hold a candle to your light.

But lately, he’s been seeing that light waver, flickering into a darkness he recognises. Even now, in the midst of your joint study session, Jeongguk has been silently observing you. He’s known you long enough to note that you’re frustrated. It’s evident in the subtle way your bottom lip stays caught between your teeth, gradually shifting rouge from the pressure you’re applying on it. Despite the concentration painted across your face, you stare at the journal article on your screen blankly. There’s a void in your gaze. And it provokes Jeongguk forward, stumbling off of his seat as his desk.

The mattress dips underneath the weight of his knees, but you don’t look up, hands automatically reaching for Jeongguk as he crawls into your lap. Your assignments get pushed to the side and you allow it because you’re both due for a break anyway. His curls feel soft underneath your fingertips, a result of the numerous times Jeongguk had persuaded you into rubbing jojoba oil onto his scalp. He smells good too – a scent you can’t put into any other word than comforting floating around you. For a moment, it abates the despondency that’s been slowly creeping up on you.

“You’re thinking,” Jeongguk says it firmly but tenderly like he’s wading through deep waters.

You make a noise of acknowledgement. “I am.”

“Care to share your thoughts?” He’s looking up at you imploringly, doe eyes wide enough to make you kneel over and comply with his request.

“I’m thinking about Minjae.” You feel him stiffen underneath you, but it’s a minute movement, one that passes swiftly. You can’t even pause to question Jeongguk’s reaction.

“Why?” But the question is spat out, oddly venomous. It ignites something in your blood. You’re already on the verge of tipping over the edge – frustrated from the lack of satisfaction in your relationships. Minjae was a cause of several headaches but lately, Jeongguk had been lingering at the back of your head, a fluttering thought that kept resurfacing despite your best efforts to keep it locked in its cage. But you’ll deal with that later, the heat in your tummy as Jeongguk shifts deeper into your hold a threat.

“He’s just…” You pause because it’s difficult to put into words. How do explain that you think your boyfriend was falling out of love with you. If you can even call him that. Minjae was someone who you carried about but your feelings never ran that deep. Not that you didn’t try and push them there. It felt like he was a placeholder most times. Or a bookmark until you finally got the courage to flick open to the page in life where you’re truly meant to be.

You dig your hands deeper into Jeongguk’s hair. You hate how he sighs into you, falling lax in your arms.

“He’s just what?” Jeongguk mumbles. There’s a hand stealing underneath the sheets you’d wrapped around your waist. His fingertips skip over skin, drawing swirls along your bare thigh. You hate the tingle that slips down your spine at the feeling of his warm hands on you.

“Not satisfying me,” You grumble, the scowl on your lips a consequence of the warmth the ebbs from your chest every time Jeongguk pushes himself into your space.

There’s a sigh escaping his lips, one that sounds oddly like relief.

“In what way?” He covers the sigh up with a false laugh. “Aren’t you guys, like, dating? Shouldn’t you tell your boyfriend that?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You retort. “And in every way. He doesn’t love me. I know that. He barely listens to me when we talk and he only calls me over when he wants to sleep with him. Last time we fucked he just focused on getting himself off and he rolled right off me and got on his phone.”

The intake of breath the slips through his teeth is sharp. “Fuck, really? I told you he wasn’t worth your time.”

“You say that about every guy I start seeing.” You glance down, surprised to find the gaze on Jeongguk’s face rather serious.

“That’s because none of them are worth your time. They don’t deserve you.” It’s said so resolutely that your heart flips in your chest. And just like that, the air around you feels different. It’s charged with the promise of a thousand whispered words. You hold his unwavering gaze, feel the stillness of the hand on your thigh with caution.

“Well, who deserves me then?”

Me, Jeongguk thinks. I know you better than any of them will. I’ve loved you more than any of them have.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Stares at the ceiling. Hates the silence in the room. Abhors the hesitation in his heart. And then his gaze falters back to you. 

You’re waiting, the patience in your eyes making his heart thump fast. He wonders if you can hear it, in the quiet that lingers between you. Because he can hear it. Can hear the words he wants to say so clearly in his mind. If only he had the balls to say them. To ask for more with you. That’s all he’s ever wanted. More. It’s just a flash, the image of you in his arms, your mouth on his. The idea of calling you his makes his head swim. It’s why he does it. It’s not a thought through action. Jeongguk always assumed his confession would be more than this – but it felt perfect at that moment, a clarity in his brain that drives him to shift upright, push right into your space.

It’s barely a kiss, just a graze of your mouth on his, but it zips through him. His lips burn with the print of your mouth, engraved in his memory for eternity now. But then he feels you gasp, draw anyway, the shock in your eyes plummeting his heart right into his gut.

“Jeongguk?” The rapid flicker in your eyes coupled with the heated gaze you’re giving him makes his stomach roll.

“Shit – sorry. Fuck, I didn’t mean to-”

“Well, why did you?” You bite. “You can’t – you can’t just do that.”

He’s never wanted life to have a rewind button more than now. “I know – I’m sorry I really fucking am. Please, just listen okay – listen to me.”

But you’re not. He’s never seen you move so fast, snatching up your things in one swift motion. Your textbook is tucked underneath your arm and your laptop is thrown right into your bag, the highlighters you’d stolen from Jeongguk’s desk a long time ago going right in after it. He tries to reach out for you, but the slight flinch you give at the touch of his hand on your arm makes him wilt right back into himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” But you’re off his bed, searching for your shoes vehemently.

“Don’t, Jeongguk. Don’t. I just – I just don’t know why you would do this?” The strain in your voice is the final nail in his coffin. And when you twirl around, the fierceness in your glare makes him want to crawl into the depths of the Earth. “Why? Why would you do that?”

He knows why he did it. But he holds his tongue, afraid he’ll push you even further away.

His silence prompts a hard sigh from you. And then you turn, walking right out of his room. Jeongguk stares at your retreating back. Feels the slam of his door in his chest. Waits until he hears you bid Yoongi a rushed goodbye. And then he puts his head in his hands, falls back into the bed that’s still warm from the reminiscence of your body. Rakes his fingers through his hair, tugging hard like it could extract the memory of this event from his brain forever. He doesn’t cry though, despite the stinging in his eyes. But he feels it, every crack in his heart. It splits so deep it feels like its’ bleeding to him. Maybe that’s where his tears were; in the spilling of his heart inside his chest.

He says it because in the solace of his room no one is here to hear it. It would be nice, to just say it once. Without fear, he was destroying something he cherished so dearly. Well, he’s already ruined it. There is nothing to lose anymore. Not with the way you looked at him liked he’s betrayed you. And perhaps he had, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He couldn’t pretend to feel about you the way he did. Not like a friend. More than a friend.

“I did it because I like you,” Jeongguk says to the air. To the ache in his heart. “Because I love you.”

[dylshoney]

good for you

a/n: i wrote this in about four hours so let’s be nice sksksks this is a one-shot based on some sub!shawn anons i got a while ago. even tho im a bigger fan of dom!shawn  (cause im a slut for that shit) this was a lot of fun to write and im happy with how it turned out. hope you enjoy! huge thanks to @shawnsmoose and all the anons that sent in ideas, ily!!

warnings: smut, oral (female recieving), no condom (safe sex is great sex, better wear a latex), basic filth,, literally just filth (w a little fluff?)

“P- please, honey.”

 He’s on his knees in front of the bed, doe eyes staring up at you with a small pout gracing his lips. He can tell you’re mad at him, deciding to stay still until you give him permission to get closer.

 You’re laid out in front of him, your legs hanging off the bed, thighs spread and exhibiting your most intimate part to him. Completely naked, propping yourself up on your elbows as you stare down at your boy teasingly, “What do you want, Shawn?”

 “Wanna taste you.” You can tell it’s taking everything in him not to break and submerge himself in you, but he’s already been bad, and knows the punishment will be worse if he steps out of line again. “Please baby, please let me make you feel good.”

 You hum, spreading your legs further as you watch him. His pretty eyes are almost mesmerized by you, watching your wet folds glistening in the dim lights. “Do you deserve that though, honey?”

 He’s silent for a moment and you decide you’ve had enough, sitting up abruptly and leaning closer to him. He’s on full alert, those hard muscles tightening as he holds his breath in anticipation of your next movements.

 You take his chin in your hand, pulling him into you to place a small kiss on those rosy lips. You’ve barely touched him and he’s already melting into you, moaning against your mouth as the light taste of corona fills your senses. He’s quick to slip his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around in a way that makes your head spin.

 He seems to get a rush of confidence at your momentary compliance, bringing a finger up to slide over your slit. You flinch back at the sensation, slapping his hand away as he sinks back down on his knees, knowing he’s overstepped.

 “Such a greedy boy.” You tut, leaning away from him again, his cheeks so brightly flushed that you can’t help but think of how good he would look between your thighs. But he hasn’t earned that yet.

 “I think you need to be taught a lesson.” You say softly, lying back onto the bed with a small smirk on your lips. You can hear Shawn’s breath catch as you spread your legs again, this time bringing the balls of your feet up to the edge of the bed to expose your dripping center.

 You stick two fingers in your mouth, swirling them around and releasing with a pop, before slowly making your way down your body. You reach your slit, lightly running a line over your already soaked core.

 You hear a throaty whimper escape Shawn’s lips, and you smile, knowing that he’s aching to touch you, aching to replace your fingers with his tongue. You flick your clit gently, arching your back as you release the softest moan, repeating the action a few times.

 Shawn’s barely breathing as he watches you, reacting to you almost instinctually as he tries to stay calm. His hands are itching to hold you, and he almost debates just tongue fucking you now, and dealing with the consequences later. But he’s your good boy, and he stays put.

 “Shawn,” you mumble after what feels like an eternity to him and he’s so lightheaded that he barely hears you. “Please.”

 He doesn’t have to ask what you mean, his head dipping between your thighs almost instinctually. He’s flattening his tongue over you and lapping up your wetness like he’s been starving for it, and in some way, he has.

 His grip is tight on your thighs but you love it, your head thrown back as you mutter his name over and over again.

 There’s a sort of worshipping about the way Shawn treats your body. It’s like a choreographed dance that only he knows the steps to, following the curve of your body with his skilled hands and tongue, ravishing you completely.

 “So good, baby.  S-so good for me.”

 He seems to spur on with the encouragement, sticking a long finger through your folds, only adding to the increasing pleasure. You scream out, but he’s showing no signs of hesitation, slipping another finger inside and pumping them in and out of your hole.

 He loves the way you twitch and squirm under him, and he swears that he’d do this every second of every day if you’d let him.

 You’re mewling over him, shaking against his face until you can feel him grinning between your legs, and you almost want to make him stop because he shouldn’t be enjoying this more than you, but he is doing too well and you love yourself far too much to make him stop.

 He’s slurping up your juices at an exhilarating pace and your back arches off the bed. You slip your fingers into his soft curls before you can stop yourself, gripping them harder than you intend to, but the guttural groan that leaves him makes your head spin, and you’re tugging even harder.

 “F- fuck Shawn.” Your legs are twitching as the familiar tingle begins forming in the pit of your stomach.

 “C’mon honey,” he’s mumbling into you, “Cum all over my tongue.”

 His words throw you over the edge and the feeling of floating surges over you once more, a feeling that only he can elicit. Shawn quickens his pace, leading you through your high, rubbing and sucking until you’re shaking from the overstimulation.

 He places a small peck on your clit before pulling away and crawling back up your body. His hands travel over your shivering frame and he places his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

 You open your eyes after a few moments, once your breathing finally calms down and you meet his eyes in the dimly lit room.

 The look in his golden colored ones almost makes you want to shy away, the intensity that radiates through them making you feel like he’s looking into the deepest parts of you. But this, you realize, is how he always looks at you, and the thought brings a small smile to your face and Shawn swears he’s never seen a prettier person in his entire existence.

 You take his cheeks in your hands before you can stop yourself, and practically smash your mouth to his. Your lips touching his seems to ignite him, and he’s pressing into you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he seemingly tries to merge your bodies together.

 His tongue slips into yours gently, almost teasingly and you curse silently, for subjecting yourself to someone that knows how to work their mouth this well. The sensation jolts you and you find yourself grinding down into him.

 Shawn separates from your mouth and finds a soft spot below your ear to lightly suck on. You gasp as his teeth graze the sensitive skin and you arch back again, closing the space between your naked core and his bulge.

 He whines at the feeling and bucks his hips into you, making you whine and repeat your action, loving how worked up you can make him. He’s so overworked and sensitive that you swear you’ve never felt him harder, his precum seeping into his boxers, making you spin your hips against him again.

 Shawn whines into your neck again. “Please.”

 You throw your head back, eyes shut as you try to hide your grin. “P –please what, baby?”

 You bring your hips down again and the sound he makes is the most desperate one you’ve ever heard, and it takes everything in you not to get on your knees and take him into your mouth over and over and over again.

 “Use your words, Shawn.” You try to keep yourself from screaming out as he bucks into you again.

 “Please honey,” he grunts through gritted teeth. “Please let me fill up this pretty pussy.”

 You moan out loud this time, making no effort to hide how much you wanted him to do exactly that. “Yes.” You manage through a gasp as he bites down on your neck again. “Fill me up, baby. Fill me with your cock.”

 You can feel him smirk against you, before moving back up to look at you through hooded eyes. “I love you.” He pecks your lips once. “You know that?”

 He pecks your lips again. And then your cheeks. And then your forehead, and you’re swatting him away and giggling so hard you almost forget how much you want him to nail you right now.

 “Shawn!” He kisses you over and over again, hitting your ticklish spots until you’re shaking under him and not in the way you want to be. “Stop!”

 “No.” He mumbles against your chest, kissing your boobs over and over again. “Not until you say it back!”

 “Nu-uh!” You mumble, shaking your head, but this only seems to make Shawn smile wider.

 He places the biggest, sloppiest kiss on your boob, before looking up at you, blinking innocently. “You know how much I love these. I could do this all night!”

 You know he can. “Fine! I love you! I love you so much! Now fuck me!”

 Shawn pecks your lips again, winking down at you, “Thought you’d never ask.” He gets up off the bed, slowly peeling his Calvin’s off, and you have to close your mouth to stop the drooling as his large manhood flops up onto his stomach.

 You shake your head to stop the filthy thoughts and sit up onto your knees. He recognizes the look in your eyes and practically crawls onto the bad, settling on his knees as well. He’s inches away, taller, and looking down at you with a fervent intensity that has you soaked.

 Your previous orgasm has washed away, and you’re aching for more. His hands are around your waist before you can blink, his warm tongue effortlessly slipping into your mouth and washing away all previous thoughts. The kiss is a mess of touches and whimpers but it speaks volumes and soon Shawn is seated at the headboard, with you straddling his hips.

 “God.” His head hits the hardwood as his eyes shut tightly as you suck on the soft spot under his left ear. A spot that never fails to have him twitching under you. His hands are gripping your ass so tightly you know he’s leaving marks, but it’s exactly what you want. A reminder of another perfect night in a string of memories tied to him.

 He’s hot to the touch, almost feverish and you melt into him, your chest pressed against his as you wrap your finger in those soft curls, massaging him until he’s groaning again.

 “Baby.” He swallows, trying to catch his breath. “Please let me fuck you.”

 You hum against his neck, running your soaked core over his dick and you swear he twitches.

 “Please.” His voice is three octaves too high and you know if his eyes weren’t closed that the pupils would be completely blown. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

 “You are?” You mumble into his skin. “Gonna be good for me, eh?”

 “Yes.” His eyes snap open, curls bouncing as he nods his head. “So good for you. S- so … ”

 His words are replaced by the gasp that leaves those rosy lips as you take his hardened cock into your hand. You moan in unison as you pump him a few times, running your thumb over his tip to collect the precum spilling out.

 You think about fisting him for longer, but you can’t ignore the tingling in your core,  needing him desperately.

 You sit up on your knees, lining him up with your wetness, running him up and down your slit a few times. His hands find a home on your hips, digging into the soft flesh as you slowly sink down on him.

 Your moan is instant and joins Shawn’s as you fill yourself completely with him. You place your forehead on his for a moment as you try to collect yourself, almost always having to adjust to his length.

 Moments later you straighten back up again, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down. Shawn’s groans have you hotter than ever and you’re desperately chasing his sounds.

 You quickly find as pace, bobbing up and down on him, trying your best to keep yourself upright. He’s hitting the deepest parts of you and you swear you’ve never felt this good before.

 “Fuck baby.” He whispers, leaning into you as you pick up speed, bouncing faster and faster as you chase your high. “So fucking tight. Love your sweet cunt.”

 Your eyes roll back as he bites into your shoulder, thrusting up to meet your pace. You try to say something in response, nothing but a bunch of high-pitched sounds leave you.

 “S-Shawn!” You finally manage and he recognizes the urgency in your tone, immediately picking up speed.

 “You gonna cum baby? You gonna cum all over my cock?”

 The filthy words coming from him, make your head spin and you can feel yourself clenching and unclenching around him. “Wanna cum – Wanna cum with you.”

 The growl that leaves his throat is unlike anything you’ve ever heard before and you almost release then and there, but his tight grip and heavenly pace keep you unable to think about anything.

 “You feel so good. So fucking good.” The sound of his balls hitting your skin is pornographic and you’re barely sitting up straight, thankful for Shawn’s strong arms wrapped tightly around you. “Wanna cum inside you. Please baby. Please let me cum inside you.”

 You waste no time in nodding, pulling at his hair as you crash your lips to his. “Cum. Fill me up… please…”

 His thumb is rubbing circles on your already sensitive clit and you’re twitching in Shawn’s arms as your head starts to spin, your orgasm washing over you at an unforgiving rate. Shawn doesn’t slow his pace, instead, throwing his head back as he thrusts into your pulsating core.

 The feeling is almost too much and he comes apart with a whimper of your name, shakily thrusting into you until he’s completely emptied out.

 You collapse onto him as you both try to catch your breath, your entire body sore. Shawn kisses your shoulder once, before rolling you over and laying you down on your back again.

 Your vision is hazy as you slowly blink your eyes open, settling on the sight of him ogling at the place where you’re still connected, his dick slowly pulling out of you. His groan is loud and visceral, wide eyes trained on his cum spilling out of your core.

 He seems almost transfixed as the view, his fingers trailing over your slit.

 You flinch back, shutting your legs, the sensitivity proving to be far too much. “I can’t.”

 Shawn separates your knees, exposing you to him again. “You have no idea how fucking good you look right now. Full of my cum.”

 You hum, a drunk like smile grazing your face as you imagine how good that must look.

 Shawn licks his lips, sticking a finger into you again, your cunt clenching around it immediately, “What’re you …”

 He pumps in and out of you a few times, muttering something under his breath before softly mumbling, “Fucking my cum back into you.”

 You whine, shutting your eyes as he adds another finger, the overstimulation making you reach your high in record time. You cum again, screaming his name until your throat is sore.

 You’re completely out of it, finally registering your surroundings as you feel Shawn’s light touches and the washcloth between your legs as he cleans you out.

 You try to mumble out a thank you but it comes out as a light hum, and Shawn chuckles softly, covering you with a sheet and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

 “Thank you for letting me take charge tonight.” You say after a few moments, cuddling up onto his chest. “Even though you went off script at the end.”

 His laugh is contagious and soon you’re both giggling. “Sorry honey. Hard to contain myself with you looking like that.”

 “Oh shut up.” You hit his chest. “You cheeseball.”

 “You love me.”

 “Yeah.”

 “Say it.” Your silence makes him tut loudly. “Do I need to assault your bo –”

 “I love you!”

-

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[hisakata-resutomoshibi]

Not to bother you, but I've been wondering what would happen next in that Inner Demon! Kuro au. It randomly popped into my head and now im curious lol. I'm not asking for another chapter if you dont want to write it, I just wanna know what u think would happen next! Your ideas are amazing and I love hearing from you! 🧡

Ah, you’re so sweet! Don’t take this too seriously as I haven’t planned any of it and barely edited it LOL but here you go my dear~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, and what am I supposed to make of that?"

It was hours later, or perhaps just minutes, and Mahiru found himself staring up at the slightly damp, bug riddled ceiling of the cave. He seemed to have fallen to the ground after Kuro had released his grip; maybe he had taken too much blood? The thought froze his muscles in visceral terror and his mind in a bid to remain sane immediately rejected the idea. Either way, he did distinctly remember hearing Kuro say that he belonged to Mahiru now, or something to that effect, and really, who wanted to have a psycho like this?

"What does what means?"

 Kuro's eyes popped in to view over Mahiru's face and he flinched back, bashing his head further on the cold stone. Frowning in irritation, at the pain in his skull, the situation in general, he sighed. "What do you mean you're mine?"

 The bright red that had flooded through Kuro's irises hadn't faded, in fact it seemed to have almost solidified against the former blue, looking like a small pool of swirling metallic paint splashed across the sky. As he watched, entranced, Kuro grinned.

 "Pretty, right?" He blinked slowly, demonstratively. "The red is a nice touch, a very easy way to identify contracts."

 "Contracts?" Mahiru repeated curiously. "What- no, I mean, how did your eyes change color?"

 "This is your blood, Mahiru." Kuro said matter-of-factly. "I didn't expect it to be so beautiful, to be honest. Most blood mixes in like mud. Such a disappointing shade of brown. But this!" Kuro paused, fluttering a hand in front of his face.

"This is gorgeous. We must be compatible."

 "Compatible..." Mahiru echoed, laughing weakly. "Great."

 "You wanted to go home. I'll take you there."

 "Hold on just a second." He pushed out a hand into the scant air between them and Kuro obligingly sat back, his head cocked in innocent puzzlement. "How do you know where I live?"

 "I know everything that is YOU, now."

 "Again, what exactly does that mean?"

 Kuro smiled wickedly, leaning forward suddenly, a blur of vitality in the dank air of the cave. "Take it literally. Anything that means something to you, makes up a part of your identity, it's mine now. And in exchange-" He gestured down at himself, "you get this, anything you could possibly want."

 Startled into silence, Mahiru felt his tongue form the sardonic comment before he could think better of it. "You're quite confident." As soon as the words were out he regretted them, praying that the offense they caused wouldn't be enough to get him ripped into little pieces, but Kuro only laughed, lighter and softer than anything Mahiru had heard before.

 "Of course I'm confident. Do you still not know who I am, Mahiru?" His lips curled up mischievously and he ran a graceful, delicate finger, along Mahiru's jaw. "You're a bit thick, aren't you? Ah well, no matter! You're mine as well now, no turning back." Before Mahiru had the chance to feel offended, he continued. "I knew you were special the second I saw you."

 The conversation was running in circles and it was only a matter of time before Mahiru got motion sickness trying to follow it, so, trying to decide the simplest course of action, he chose, simply, to ignore it. Obviously Kuro was not who he had originally thought, the eyes, the horns, the preternatural speed, no, there was no way to fake that, he was something else entirely, but the question was, what? Mahiru glanced over to find Kuro staring at him raptly and he couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped. "Where am I supposed to hide you?"

"Is this just something that people like you can do?" Mahiru asked flatly, staring down at the tiny kitten at his feet. It turned it's wide, luminescent eyes (red like his blood, he thought) up to him and blinked. "I don't know what that means."

 "You really are a demanding little one." Kuro muttered as he phased back into existence, occupying the space the cat had previously. "Of course not all of us can, it is something unique to I and a few others." He paused, seeming to think carefully before speaking. "Eight total."

 There are seven others that can turn into animals?"

 Kuro nodded slowly, almost regretfully. "Yes. Seven. But you don't need to worry about them."

 "I'm not particularly worried." Mahiru sighed. "More like amazed." He watched for a moment as Kuro crept around his room, so cat like in his movements Mahiru almost laughed, and began to poke at several of the books piled haphazardly on his desk. "I do have a question."

 As though he had been in anticipation, Kuro spun on his heel, books and exploration forgotten and a lopsided smile in place. "Yes?"

 "Well, er-" Mahiru hesitated, biting his lip. "Not to be offensive or anything but, you're acting very... different now."

 "Oh?"

 "Uh, yeah..."

 "How so?"

 "Well." Mahiru glanced over, quickly looking away again when he met Kuro's amused gaze. "Well, to be blunt, you're not acting like a total nut job anymore."

 "A nut job." Kuro paused, digesting the phrase for a moment. "I do not know that one either." Four rapid steps had him directly in front of Mahiru again and he grinned. "There's so much you must tell me! But before that, what is the question?"

 "Why?" Mahiu blurted. "Why are you suddenly..." He trailed off and, at a loss for definition, gestured vaguely at Kuro. "Like this?"

 Shrugging casually, Kuro raised a brow. "One would act differently after becoming someone else, no?"

 Putting a finger to his brow in fatigued annoyance, Mahiru groaned. "No w I just know you're fucking with me."

 "Not yet, I assure you." Kuro said brightly, his grin widening impossibly when Mahiru blanched. "What can I say to make you understand?" He crossed his arms, gaze traveling lazily around the room. When his eyes lit upon the chair near the door and he paused. "I took from you and so you must take from me." He glanced over, his eyes shining through the shifting blacks and whites of his hair. "Give and take, tit for tat, you are a part of me and so I must honor that change. Act according to the new blood."

 Mahiru frowned, attempting to construct something realistic or even vaguely understandable from what Kuro had just said. "So, you're different because of me?"

 "Precisely. Perhaps if you were less stubborn I would not be quite so composed?" Kuro laughed, just a shadow of the maniacal, wild abandon from previously and shrugged. "It's an interesting change." He raised his eyes to the ceiling, as though looking up into the sky. "Not unwelcome. Certainly different from what I am used to."

 "What you're used to?" Mahiru prompted him after a moment.

 "Things at the court can be unbalanced." Kuro said slowly. "And so for the most part we are... unpredictable."

 Forgoing asking who exactly "we" was because he was fairly certain he didn't want to know anyway, Mahiru frowned darkly, remembering the shattered stalls and engulfing flames he had so barely escaped earlier."You seemed like a psycho."

 Kuro laughed happily. "That sounds like a compliment!"

 "It's not." Mahiru said flatly. "Psycho is bad." He too glanced around the small room quickly, taking in the limited space and lack of guest furniture. "So now what? I accept that you are some kind of- of- mythical creature. But I do not accept that I am stuck with you."

 "Whether you accept or not is of no consequence." Kuro sang, reaching out and plucking a sweater from where it lay draped over the foot of the bed. "We have a contract." He began to twist it back and forth, inspecting it from every angle, eyes wide in puzzlement.

 "About that. I didn't agree to any contract. So I don't really think it's legally binding." Mahiru crossed his arms, attempting his best impersonation of authority.

 Kuro shrugged, pulling the sweater over his head, horns turning to a bright translucent fog for a moment to allow for the collar to pass over them, and smiled, something quick and genuine, and Mahiru felt his heart skip a beat. "Unfortunate for you then that the fae do not care for legality."

It was an hour later, Mahiru standing in front of the cupboard contemplating it's bare shelving, that he finally admitted to himself that he was not the best at entertaining visitors. Not even a spare loaf of bread. He slammed the door shut in frustration and glanced into the living room, finding Kuri still curled up on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. Mahiru had turned it on in desperation about forty minutes ago and Kuro had not moved since. It was currently airing some strange episodic gum commercial but judging by Kuro's expression you would have thought it was a documentary of the end of the world.

 "How do they do this?" Kuro asked suddenly and Mahiru turned fully, watching as he pointed to the screen upon which was a helicopter view of the city.

 "Do what?"

 "Record this? Is that what you called it? It's so detailed!"

 Mahiru wandered closer, unable to ignore the impulse and peered over Kuro's shoulder. "You said you were some magical being but you've never seen a TV? Where have you been all this time?"

 "In the woods, mostly." Kuro answered casually. "It seems I should have ventured farther into town sooner!"

 Briefly imagining the utter devastation Kuro would have wrought unchecked had he indeed entered the heart of the town Mahiru held back a shiver and shook his head. "No. No way. You are way too much trouble."

 "It is not I that wishes for such destruction." Kuro said, flicking his sharp gaze up to Mahiru. "I only embody what you desire."

 "You keep saying that." Mahiru muttered, looking away in discomfort. "Listen. Do you need food? Or..." He trailed off in embarrassment, completely gobsmacked that the next words were about to leave his mouth. "Or are you actually a vampire?"

 "Vampire." Kuro rolled the word around for a moment and shrugged. "Call me what you will. You humans have always had such curious need to name everything. Regardless, it will not change that I simply am."

 Mahiru sighed. He really was getting so tired of all this mystical bullshit. "So then, did you want to get dinner?"

 Kuro froze, his shoulders going taut beneath the blanket he had huddled up in. "Dinner?" His eyes were darting from side to side as though in worry, though there was nothing but an innocuous soap opera preview on.

 "Yeah? You know, we go somewhere and get food? I honestly hate the idea of bringing you in public, but I don't have anything here." Mahiru admitted, frowning. "You have to behave."

 "Ah, I see." Kuro turned, fixing Mahiru with a strange look. "You need to eat then?"

 "I take it, based on this conversation that you don't actually require food." Mahiru muttered sarcastically. "But yes, I'm hungry."

 "Very well. Let's go." Kuro stood in one quick move, the blanket falling from his shoulders and to the couch and Mahiru flinched back a step, having completely forgotten just how tall Kuro really was. At his jerking retreat, Kuro raised a brow and a mocking smile flew across his face. "Do you truly find me so frightening?"

 An immediate affirmation withered on Mahiru's tongue as he studied Kuro's expression. It was neutral and empty but somewhere, deep beneath the veneer of indifference, he thought he could see a wiggling of disappointment. He didn't know what possessed him to do what he did, or even why he would care to do so in the first place but he found himself snorting and reaching out to wrap his hand around Kuro's wrist, tugging him roughly around the back of the couch and towards the kitchen. "Of course not, idiot. What's scary about you?"

[theseerasures]

so you wanna revolution (but everyone’s being so mean)

this post is a response to a lot of little flare ups that have happened in the past few weeks, but most particularly this post, and responses like these. my usual approach whenever someone has an opinion in front of me in this septic tank of opinions is to just ignore them to death, but this line of rhetoric has been flying around a lot lately, and isn’t going away anytime soon. i don’t think banging my head against this particular pinata will finally break it wide open to reveal the sweet sweet candy of complete and total anti-racism, but as an ally in this fight i’d still rather it be MY head instead of, say, someone with even less time and mental energy to spare, and more cranial trauma.

you all want a civil, even-handed explanation for why you need to put aside your opinions and hurt feelings and just learn? why these activists aren’t giving you the patience and understanding you feel you deserve? then let’s unpack this shit.

for the sake of argument i’m gonna take it as a given that the allies who protest that they’d be better at helping/more people would help if everyone were nicer to them ARE coming from a place of sympathy and desire to help. i’m not here to question anyone’s motives: i’m sure you’re also heartbroken about senseless black death and have been shaking your metaphorical fist at the injustice. but i want to dig a little deeper to figure out why your sympathies manifest so frequently and comfortably in critiques of how people talk to you/other theoretical allies rather than actions or conversations that actually dismantle the systems you’re supposed to be against, and to do that, i’ve laid out a few things that motivate comments like the above.

1) Don’t I have a right to feel hurt when someone is mean to me?

this is already a very commonly discussed point. yes! you do. but get a god damn sense of perspective about it, people are dying. it is perfectly normal–particularly if you’re coming from a position of privilege–to feel shocked or hurt when someone brusquely corrects you for doing/saying something you thought was on the level. no one is asking you to get rid of these feelings (at least, not all at once); what we ARE asking is that you not make the whole thing about your hurt feelings, rather than trying to learn from the critique. derailing productive discussions about what you’re all ostensibly here to do (ie., antiracist activism) so you can bicker over Robert’s Rules does not a good ally make. when you do that, you are implicitly declaring that there is nothing in the world so important that it can’t be postponed in favor of how YOU feel. your feelings cannot be more important than black lives. if the implication is that you won’t help if people are mean to you, you are essentially trying to hold the movement hostage for the sake of your own feelings.

2) We’re all working together. Shouldn’t I get equal say in how we do things?

short answer: no. long answer: if you’ve just jumped onboard the antiracism train, it might help to think of it as a skill that you need to practice and develop like any other. activism requires training and work, and the people who have been doing it for longer generally tend to be better at it. you should try listening to them and thinking about what they say instead of going with your gut response, because your gut response at the moment of criticism is most likely guided by emotional defensiveness. this doesn’t mean that you don’t get ANY say; saying something wrong and being corrected is an essential and constructive part of the process, but Jesus CHRIST learn to read the room. if you’re with people who have been immersed in this work for years, try LEARNING from them instead of criticizing the way they say things. if you all can appreciate asshole artists, critics, and comedians in other aspects of culture, you can definitely learn from activists who don’t have the patience to hold your hand every time you make a mistake.

3) You catch more flies with honey–that’s just how the world works.

sure, okay–i want you to take a moment to recognize the incredible gall and presumption to come freshly into a history and movement that has existed in some form for more than FOUR HUNDRED YEARS and speak to it as if it has no experience with “how the world works.” what you are just now realizing might be an actionable issue is a lived reality every day for black people. the fact that you immediately feel comfortable telling them how to secure their liberation and aren’t comfortable when they correct you is the height of white privilege. this is how knowledge and politics get colonized: colonizers come in under the guise of “helping,” adopt a position that they say is more “rational” or “worldly” compared to that of the colonized, and try to take it over for the colonized’s “own good.” if you are in fact trying to help marginalized people improve their situations, DO NO PRESUME to know how to address their problems better than they do. and if someone calls you out on it, learn to be better.

4) Shouldn’t we be on the side of reasonable discussions? People don’t learn from being namecalled a white supremacist, even when they get over themselves.

you know what? you’re right. education is a hugely important part of activism, and even beyond that, the cohesion and efficacy of activist movements do depend on its members treating each other with a certain generosity. black people have shown us a remarkable level of generosity by letting us–those who have been complicit in their oppression for centuries–into their movement, teaching us how to be most constructive and forgiving us when we make mistakes. so practice being generous to THEM instead of demanding more from them. recognize that it takes an immense amount labor to offer well-thought-out critiques to your shitty actions, and even more to have a long conversation with you. realize that attempting to communicate to you why you should care about their lives and livelihood is a deeply painful and traumatic experience. have some of the fucking empathy that you’re demanding from them! think about how terrible you’re feeling about all the 2020 tumult, and then think about how everything that’s happened this year has been orders of magnitude worse for the black community, and how terrible they must be feeling as a result. think about the fact that these moments of high activism DO NOT LAST FOREVER, so many activists are rightly prioritizing direct action and do not have time to guide you through your emerging wokeness. of course learning about why what you did was wrong is important, but the right way to do that is not to pester black people to educate you. the resources are out there. other, more experienced allies are out there. if you’re behind in a class, the solution isn’t to demand that the rest of the class stop to help you–the responsibility is on YOU to do the extra work to catch up.

5) But aren’t I being generous already? I’m offering to help these people even though I’ve never done anything wrong to them.

short answer: go fuck yourself! long answer: yeah, let’s go back to the “name calling” thing again. i fail to recognize why it’s so difficult–particularly for predominantly queer and/or feminist spaces–to recognize complicity and privilege in THIS arena compared to all others. we don’t say “not all white people” for the same reason we don’t say “not all men” or “not all straights” or “not all cis”–because white supremacy is baked into every aspect of our lives. it is inescapable. white supremacy cannot be restricted by the things other, cartoonishly racist people do. it is blood that is on ALL our hands, and we benefit from it daily. it IS uncomfortable to realize when you’re not the oppressed but an oppressor in a situation, but the way to resolve that is to sit in that discomfort, and learn to be better.

so the next time someone sharply corrects you, or tells you to check your privilege, and you’re upset about it, remind yourself that it is NOT ABOUT YOU. you are literally here because it’s unfair that so many things ARE about you. watch this video to remind yourself of what’s at stake! (it’s also in gif form!) revisit these slides about what you’re experiencing! (they were made by a high schooler, so you can really put yourself in that education mindset.) sit and process that feeling and learn why you were wrong without getting publicly defensive or asking a black person to coach you through it. donate to some MutualAid funds, legal defense funds, and personal fundraisers. badger some elected representatives about defunding the police. and realize that you’re still alive. you lived. you learned how to do better, and it didn’t kill you, and there’s still so much to do.

and if that still isn’t sitting well with you, you can also try eating an entire dick.

[serendipityjxmn]

I Hate You, Park Jimin!

Chapter 3

Words Count: 2.7k

TW:

Link to Chapter 2

Link to Chapter 4

I was done with classes for the day. I glanced at my watch. Ah Young should be done by this time too. We had the same class this morning but she had taxation classes just now while I took financial reporting. I texted her but there was no reply so there I was standing awkwardly in front of my locker looking at my empty phone.

I sighed as I looked up. About 3 metres away, I noticed a familiar back, Park Jimin. He was at his own locker, and seemed to be forcing his books into his locker. Beside him leaning against the locker was Kim Taehyung, his ultimate best friend and absolute partner in crime. He too had the divine visuals, perfectly sculpted features. Damn those jawlines. A combination of Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung were very dangerous.

At that moment, Kim Taehyung’s eyes flickered at me. I froze. Is it possible that Kim Taehyung can read minds? Then he looked at Jimin. He said something and there’s a high probability that it was about me because Jimin stopped whatever he was doing and turned around, his eyes finding me.

My eyes widened. Shit. Thank God I was saved from the embarrassment of staring at the two Godly handsome men by Ah Young running towards me.

“Hana!” She said as she flung herself towards me, breathless. “I’m sorry I was late! I got called by Professor Kay on my essay.” She rolled her eyes as she opened her locker door and stacked her books inside.

“It’s fine,” I said. My whole body still tensing because I was unsure whether Jimin was still staring at me. I sneaked a peek. And yes- I regretted it instantly. My eyes met his. Immediately I looked down at my shoes.

“Hana-ya.” Ah Young nudged me.

“Hmm?” I said without looking up, pretending to be particularly interested in my shoes today.

“Hana.” She called me again.

“Hmmm..”

“Park Jimin is staring at you.” Her voice went serious.

As if my whole body could get anymore stiffer. “No, he’s not.”

“He. Is. Coming. Here.”

“What?” I looked up and momentarily I thought I forgot how to breathe as Jimin made his way towards me.

Suddenly I felt a firm hand clasped my elbow and the last thing I saw before I was whisked away by Jimin was Ah Young’s shocked expression with her mouth wide open. He steered me away for a good five minutes and I could see other students turning twice at the sight of us. He pulled me into an empty lecture hall and after closing the door carefully behind him, he turned around to face me.

Wait, I was mad at him right? So I put up the coldest expression I could.

He cocked his head to one side and I swear he looked so hot. I cursed my own brain as I felt my anger evaporated effortlessly. “You’re bad at being angry.” He smiled in amusement.

I snorted. “What do you want Park Jimin? I don’t think we have any business with each other anymore.”

“Let’s do it.”

What? My eyes went round. “What did you say?”

“I said let’s do it.” He calmly repeated.

I regarded him for a moment. Was he trying to pull a prank on me? “Why?”

“I need to graduate and there’s nothing for you to lose I guess.”

I considered his point. It was true, there was nothing for me to lose. The amount of money offered to me as mentioned by Ms Choi was lucrative. Triple the amount I earned from my part-time job at the cafe. Does Jimin know about my financial situations? I mean, I can live by but it would be nice to have savings or being able to afford nice gifts for my mom. But I wasn’t going to let him get his way so easily. “No thanks.” Before turning on my heels and making my way out of the lecture hall, I could see his shocked and confused expression. Oh, how I want to picture and savour the image of shocked Jimin forever.

The next morning I woke up feeling content. As I brushed my hair, I smirked as the image of shocked Jimin crept into my mind. The rude, obnoxious, vain, self-centred and full of himself Park Jimin. Park Jimin, THE bad boy. And to think that I somehow managed to put a shock expression on that Godly features of his face.

I arrived at the campus feeling giddy. I don’t have the same classes with Ah Young this morning so I was saved by her infinite inquisition, for now.

As soon as I was done filling my bag with the next subject’s books, someone shut my locker door. I looked up to see Ah Young. She crossed her arms.

“What?” I said, feigning innocence as I turned on my heels. I knew what was coming.

“Oh no girl. You’re not running away.” She blocked my path.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “What?”

She threw me an incredulous look. “You need to spill the tea, sister! You and Park Jimin. What is going on?” She was almost half screaming and her hands were now on both side of her waist.

“Oh my god- keep it low!” I glared at her as I glanced sideways, making sure no one was paying attention to us. I dragged her to the cafeteria and chose the furthest seat available away from any other human in existence. Then I told her everything. I was dead serious but I almost couldn’t suppress my laugh each time Ah Young ‘oohh’ and ‘ahhh’ at the appropriate time.

“What the fuck?!” She was literally hyperventilating.

I nodded as if saying ‘I know right.’

“Oh my god! I can’t believe it. This is your chance to get into his dick!” She shrieked while vigorously tapping the table.

My eyes widened. “Ah Young!!!” I glanced around. Thank God no one had their eyes on us.

She seemed oblivious to my state of panic. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t have a slight crush on him? He’s a fine piece of ass.” She stared into space dreamily. “I wonder how rough he is in bed.”

“Oh My God!!” I quickly clasped my hands on her mouth, afraid that she would drop another bomb. Trust my best friend to be this straightforward.

“Hhvgrnkk-“ Her voice muffled below my hands.

I chuckled but released my hands anyway.

“But I said no to him.”

At this, her mouth went agape. “Are you kidding me?”

I shrugged. “He was getting too cocky! I am sure as hell not going to feed his ego.”

“You can’t be serious! You have this golden opportunity to get his dick and you’re throwing it away just like that?”

“You’re making me sound like a slut. Girl, it’s just a study session.”

“I know. But it can always evolve to something else.” She winked at me.

“Yah!” I wanted to hit her but she was quicker. She stood up and ran away, laughing.

Days passed and every single day I caught Jimin trying to catch my gaze. He seemed pissed off that I’ve been trying extra hard to avoid any eye contact with him. Ah Young kept telling me to stop my act already though. Apparently I am throwing my chance away of getting into the divine man that he is, Park Jimin’s pants. I ignored her every single time. I smiled satisfactorily. This is my victory.

I was happily skipping my way out of Ms Choi’s room after I submitted my assignment that evening when I felt my wrist being pulled by someone and the next thing I know I was in an empty lecture hall.

“What the-“ I almost cursed when I saw Jimin pushing me against the door. The close proximity was making my breath uneven. Park Jimin with orange hair was illegal.

“So you thought it was fun to test me?” He said, his voice low. His hands on both side of my head. His face inching closer to mine.

“W-what are you going to do?” Damn it, I stuttered. I looked away.

“I’ll show you how fun it is to test me.” His tone laced with threat. I gulped. What is he trying to do?

He inched closer and closer. When I felt like he wouldn’t stop, I mustered as much courage and pushed his shoulders away while closing my eyes.

To be frank, I was scared of his next action. But I didn’t sense any movement so I slowly open my eyes and I saw Jimin blinking at me. His face confused as he stared at my palms on his chest and back at my face.

“I-“ I began but no words came out. I felt my cheeks reddening and I pulled my hands away.

He smirked. “I haven’t even laid a finger on you and your face is already this red.” To my relief, he backed away. “So, I guess if you don’t want anything of this sort happening again, I suggest that you accept the proposal.”

I considered saying yes, I really did. But my pride just won’t let me especially when he tried to threaten me with what-? Trying to touch me? Park Jimin is indeed a jerk. So, naturally and firmly, I replied, “No.” My pride stood up, clapped loudly and bowed with a flourish. I smirked at him and turned on my heels immediately.

Days after that, I think Jimin had sort of gave up trying to earn a simple ‘yes’ from me. I couldn’t care less. I was happy enough that he practically had to beg although obviously he didn’t because he tried to threaten me but it’s his loss so I just continued to fan my ego.

Ah Young on the other hand seemed to disagree with me. “You’re probably the only person in this world who dared to say no to Park Jimin.” She said as she shook her head at me.

Lunchtime that day, we both decided to eat outside near the bleachers. There were a few boys playing basketball at the court. We sat there munching on our food.

“You know, I really think it’s time for you to say yes to Jimin now.” Ah Young said as she took a huge bite out of her Subway.

I rolled my eyes. “Not again, honey.”

“I mean seriously! How long do you think you can run away from him? He may be hot as fuck but he is also scary as hell.” She reminded me.

As if on cue, we heard some noises that caught our attention. We searched the court to find the source. We sat quite far at the bleachers so I zoomed my eyesight to my best ability and could make out some boys were fighting at the court.

“Holy shit- see? I told you Jimin is some scary shit.” Ah Young said, her eyes fixated to the court.

What? I squinted my eyes. Holy fuck- I could see Jimin was in a fight with one of the boys playing basketball. I did not realize he was one of the players just now. The way he threw his punches mercilessly.. I shuddered. Perhaps Ah Young was right, I should probably stop messing with him. He’d beat me into a pulp in an instant if he wanted to. But would he? Another voice popped in my mind. I never see him beat girls. But best not test his patience Kim Hana. The small voice in my head nodded in agreement.

That evening, as soon as I was finished with my classes, I stood waiting at my locker. Jimin’s classes finished at four too today. I watched his locker like a hawk, waiting for his appearance while also trying to remain inconspicuous. A few minutes after that, he walked past me and went straight to his locker. Beside him was Kim Taehyung.

I had no idea since when did the prospect of talking to Jimin become so easy, I found myself taking strides towards him. Jimin had his back on me while Taehyung leaned against his locker. When Taehyung saw me, he gave a signal to Jimin. Shit, now that I’m here it felt like my legs had turned Jell-O. He turned around and there he was, his visuals blinding me as usual. I struggled to remain composure.

He raised his brows at me. “Yes? What can I help you with?”

Shit. Am I going to say it? Have I really decided this? My mental war must’ve gone on for quite some time as Jimin had now propped his elbow on his locker door. “Let’s do it.” There, I said it.

He then leaned in closer and closer to me I had to step back. “Are you sure about this?” He asked, his voice low. I cursed because it’s unfair to how sexy he sounded.

“Yes.” I answered.

He raised his brow as if perplexed by how easy I came to a conclusion.

I drew a breath. “I’ll tell you when to meet. Since this is very sudden, give me some time to prepare-“

“Tomorrow.” He cut me.

“But I haven’t-“

“2 PM. Library.” He finalised, already turning on his heels while Taehyung followed suit after regarding me for a moment.

Link to Chapter 4

Posted on 200505 09:53PM

[smuttymess]

bts astro soulmate reading | for christiana

sign: libra sun | cancer moon | taurus rising

lover: park jimin | soulmate: kim namjoon

This reading is for Christiana, a Jimin bias who regularly finds herself wrecked by Taehyung, Namjoon and Jungkook. The girl has taste! I hope this brings you some joy during this wildly uncertain time. Take care xoxo

Dreamy, empathic, and sociable are just three of the many words that can aptly describe you, dear Libra. As one of the most popular in the zodiac, people naturally gravitate towards your nature empathetic, enthusiastic and caring nature. Your interpersonal relationships are of great value and importance to you - people often come to you for your sound advice, to be heard, and to be understood. Your Taurus rising, however, does not let just anyone into your space, as you are prone to people trying to take advantage of you. While you supremely enjoy the company of others and enjoy a wide social circle, you are also fully comfortable to retreat into solitude at a moment’s notice. This allows you to pause before leaping forward into a job, relationship or important decision - providing you with a level of protection when it comes to your heart that many Libras lack. More than anything, you crave balance and harmony across all areas of your life, because that is when you are most at peace. You are likely to avoid anyone or anything that could disrupt said harmony like the plague.

With your sun in Libra and rising in Taurus, you are one that appreciates life’s many luxuries, and you are known to self-indulge in all that brings you joy. While you want balance in your relationships and work life, when it comes to physical and material pleasures it is likely that excess is not in your vocabulary. Often at the center of social gatherings, you love to be seen, admired, and adored with all eyes on you, preferably with a glass (or two) of champagne in hand. On one night out in standard Libra revelry, you can’t help but take notice of the dark haired boy that emerges next to you at the bar, his presence disarming as he flashes you a flirtatious smile. You can feel his eyes fixated on you with as he watches you try to order a drink before he intercepts the frazzled bartender with merely a swoop of his hair and orders a bottle of Dom. All of that for you? You tease, more than happy to talk to this handsome stranger. A devilish, smirk moves across his face as he hands you a glass. Well, there are two glasses and two of us. Why don’t you join me?

It is not long before you and Jimin - both Libras - become practically inseparable in a whirlwind relationship. Despite his sultry persona and ability to practically undress you with his eyes, you quickly discover his deeply sensitive and emotional nature, and recognize that you are kindred spirits. With his Jupiter in Sagittarius and Venus in Scorpio, he is equally charming, romantic, intense and enthusiastic. In him you see a reflection of a kind, genuine and peace-loving soul, in which you find true comfort. You are also thrilled to find that his shared love of excess extends into the bedroom, wherein he can never leave too many kisses along your neck (all over your body) whisper too many sweet nothings into your near. In bed with Jimin, time does not exist - he is fully devoted to enjoying every inch of you, however long it takes, and is not afraid of running late to his next engagement if it means making you cum back to back. You often lose yourself in intellectual conversation only to find Jimin on top of you, his eyes taking you all in as he presses his weight into you, making you whine against him as his cock hardens between your thighs. As meticulous he is with his dancing, he is equally deliberate with all of his movements, his fingers moving calculatingly over your most sensitive parts as you practically beg for him. Look how beautiful you are, and just for me.

While your affair starts of very passionate and filled with long nights into longer, blissful mornings, this fire soon subsides when you two of you emerge from the early-dating fog of sex, pillow-talk and champagne. Soon enough you two begin questioning each others actions, his jealous and possessive Venus in Scorpio emerging as your shared insecurities bubble up but never reaching the surface. Remember: you’re two Libras, after all, who are practically allergic to conflict. Eventually, your worries about where the other has been and who they were with become exhausting and at odds with to the equilibrium you both crave in a romantic partnership. Your shared inabilities to address issues head on, wanting to exist solely in the fantasy world of your romantic relationship, is not possible to maintain when faced with the complexities and hardships of the real world. You both need someone who will somewhat lead, and ultimately you cannot find that in each other. After the dust settles and emotions are quelled, this becomes a lifelong friends relationship...with the occasional benefits.

Reeling after Jimin, you’re certainly not expecting to fall into anything else so soon other than perhaps a quick rebound at most. So you are surprised to find yourself suggesting coffee exchanging numbers with the cute, tall guy you run to catch up to after picking up his abandoned airpod on the street. Its only hours later when you tell your friends about the encounter with the clumsy, slightly awkward stranger that you’re told its the Kim Namjoon. Of course, your interest is piqued further.

It is weeks before you actually meet again in person and you are happy when he invites you to a small, gorgeously designed cafe. You tend to idealize people and relationships, and you have of course had this idea of him formed in your mind since your first meeting. Namjoon is one of the few people, however, that is truly genuine and lives up to your expectations - he simply exists like that. He is a Virgo through and through, with the fully analytical, reasonable, and hard-working nature that comes along with it. He knows what he wants and the path to get him there, striving for perfection in every area of his life, and he does not shy aware from sharing his goals and dreams with you on the first date. You immediately admire how knowledgeable he is and how strong he is in his beliefs and convictions, while still open to learning more. Both cautious to trust too soon, you take time to open up to each other, falling in love with each others minds over months of long walks hand in hand through the city’s parks and many galleries. Neptune in Capricorn speaks to your sensitive, dreamy Cancer moon and he finds comfort in your ability to make even the most guarded soul relaxed and at home. His Jupiter in Scorpio grounds you - not in a restrictive way but in a way which helps you problem-solve quicker than you would on your own. Suddenly, you can begin to see all of your big plans, hopes and dreams begin to become your reality with him at your side. Your Cancer moon nurtures him, and he is elated to have someone who so openly and ardently loves and supports him and that enigmatic brain of his.

In the early stages of dating you may be intertwined - quite literally - in your own private fantasy world, discussing your current reading lists before his hands move to embrace and explore your curves.  As with everything else, Namjoon wants to be knowledgable when it comes to pleasing you, and it shows in his tender approach which is loving and affectionate with lots of touching and caressing, but also animalistic - think spanking and dirty talk into your ear as rubs your clit and fucks you from behind, endlessly enjoying watching you come undone beneath him. You can, and do, spend countless days and nights together this way, lost in each other’s presence and bodies. But it is not long before your Libra heart begins to crave more of that energy you gain from large social gatherings and groups of friends. His Saturn in Pisces protests, regularly and often. But baby, do we really have to? I’d much rather spend time with you here. His mind quickly changes when he sees you in your LBD, stilettos on, ready to paint the town red. its not long before he too is dressed and out the door to whatever night you have in store. 

Few people know how to get under this Virgo’s skin better than you, Libra. You love how easy it is to rile him up, often without even trying. Namjoon, with his Virgo in Scorpio, is equally annoyed and turned on by your sociable nature, which often has many pining for your attention. For however famous, powerful, and desired he is, he has nothing on your innately flirtatious aura which is akin to a bee to honey. This magnetism you possess is one of many things that attracted him to you, but it also is what gets his blood boiling, bringing out his jealous, controlling and possessive side. This is a man that hates acting out of character or losing himself in emotion, but you cause him to become someone else entirely. You looked so fucking good tonight, everyone couldn’t stop staring. Why do you need to be so sexy? You enjoy seeing him like this, his seeing his eyes darkening as he throws his keys onto a side table and loosening his tie before his big hands grip your waist, hoisting you up onto the kitchen counter to straggle his torso. I’ve been waiting for this all night. I couldn’t stop thinking about getting you home, away from those eyes. But I know you liked the attention, didn’t you princess? Your kitchen is fairly decorative (we know Joonie’s cooking skills) so you are happy to lean back, your legs raised supported by his hands as he devours you whole, making you drip all over the cold marble countertop. 

You and Namjoon are a true opposites-attract pairing, existing on two different wavelengths that manage to flow quite nicely and making you true partners in love. Namjoon adores you for how optimistic yet level-headed you are, and you enjoy his strong, disciplined and future-thinking persona. He needs to understand that perfection is an illusion, and life is meant to be savored. Over time, he learns to be less critical with your sensitive heart, which you remind him of whenever he goes into full Virgo-mode. Ultimately, you know that Namjoon means no harm - he simply wants you to be your best self because he sees you for not just who you are today but who you can be tomorrow. As you both crave balance and fairness, your home will overall be one with minimal turbulence as Namjoon is a problem-solver who will always seek to meet you halfway. It is likely that you cohabitate in a plant and art-filled abode high above Seoul, creating a comforting atmosphere for the two of you to retreat into and find peace. With Namjoon, you create a life that successfully balances autonomy with interdependence and teaches you how to trust in true, long-lasting love. 

[quietrainfan]

Okay! It’s the next day and I say that’s more than enough time for me to go back to my Unsympathetic ways! *evil laughter* You can not stop me! Let’s list off the observations, shall we?~ (Warning: Spoilers ahead! Also, obviously, Unsympathetic opinions of the Sides. If that ain’t something that floats your boat, by all means, ignore this post.)

- Patton not allowing Roman to say anything even remotely critical of Virgil

Like, seriously. What Roman said wasn’t even an insult. I mean, I guess it could be considered insensitive to Virgil’s feelings. But how many times has Virgil took jabs (oftentimes low ones) at Roman and was not asked to be nice or apologize? It seems to always be Roman who has to moderate how he speaks while Virgil can mouth off all he wants. Roman wasn’t being malicious, he was just poking some fun. His tone and smile clearly communicate he’s just fooling around and isn’t intentionally trying to get under Virgil’s skin.

I’d have less of a problem with this if one, Virgil was called out more for his behavior. Two, his and Roman’s banter was more equal and friendly rather than guilt-trippy and one-sided. Three, this scene not ending with Roman forcing himself to agree with Virgil’s opinion and Virgil’s condescending little thumbs up afterward. As if to say: “There you go, nice and obedient.”

- Roman using Deceit’s hat for something he isn’t even apart of and without permission (more on that later)

I’m actually going to save this one for last. Because there’s so much to unpack there even though it’s not at the center of attention.

- More of not allowing Logan to have a say in things. Roman taking away his votes because he isn’t wearing a onesie.

Okay so, he’s being excluded from a decision simply because he wasn’t wearing something. I know this may seem like a nick-pick but come on. Give this poor man a break. How many times are the other Sides going to completely brush Logan off and invalidate his input? Even for small things like this he’s being treated like an afterthought. I know Roman pretty much rigged it for everyone and Virgil gave him a look...but this was mostly centered around excluding Logan, yet again. And they still give him flack for not trying to open up. Poor Lo, I wanna just hug him and maybe read something with him just to give some form of comfort from this. And of course, dear ol’ Patton sees no problem with this but was so quick to rush to Virgil’s defense. Then again, this is normal for them. So no one bats an eye at it.

- “I can think of a few ways.”

Not an argument here. Go OFF, Virgil!!! Sorry not sorry, I got SO much satisfaction out of Patton’s face fall here. I was prepared for that line to just be another “Hee Hee Patton line” without so much as an acknowledgment about his actions lately but then I hear THIS! Just good old Patton about to not at all try to address how he treats Thomas and the others as always but then Virgil of all people comes in and lets him have it! Just to rub salt in that well-deserved wound! Yes! That’s right, frown! Frown, HARD! Jeez, that felt so good to see!

I hope we get more of that in the future. Just dissecting Patton’s mistakes and not explaining it away with “he’s trying”!

- “Thomas made his decision and I think we should just try to settle into it.”

HA! That is RICH, Patton! No joke. I laughed so bitterly at that line. Patton, how many times have you tried to sway Thomas in a direction that YOU wanted no matter whether or not it made him happy or was the best decision for him overall? How many times did you guilt-trip him, guilt-trip everyone? How many times did you ignore Roman’s misery (S v S is the most recent example), ignore Virgil’s anxiety? Or amplify it? How many times did you ignore Logan’s advice until it actually had an effect on YOU? You have NO room to talk about allowing Thomas to come to his own decisions when you spent SO long swaying the movement of things to end in your favor. I’m-

How many times did you just “ease into” the changes in Thomas’s life or the other parts of his personality that made you uncomfortable and tried to adjust without judgment? I can’t- *wheeze* Here’s hoping you get some really good character development later on because I just can’t stand you like this.

- “How are you telling me to settle into something right now when you’ve taken your sweet time to settle into things you were uncomfortable with in the past?”

Once again, go OFF, Virgil!!! Call. Him. Out! Patton has been nothing but judgmental and guilt-trippy with whatever he didn’t approve of. He’s made the same mistakes over and over, hardly showing any remorse for it. Only when others point it out does he look bothered. From where I’m standing, it doesn’t feel like he’s ever made as much as an effort as the others. It’s very irritating, to say the least. Him just treating Deceit and Remus like infections rather than apart of Thomas all the time, for example. Trying to repress them rather than understand them, like he did with Virgil. But he likes Virgil, so of course, he didn’t have the same reaction. He doesn’t like Remus or Deceit, so he acts accordingly. Which is really messed up.

Don’t give Virgil that look, Thomas! You know he’s right!

- “There’s nothing wrong with talking! Sometimes you just need to air things out and get a second opinion.”

I’m sorry. Did I just hear that right? *checking with an imaginary person* Who was the one that said that? It was Patton? *non-existant “yes”* Oh, alright.

*clears throat* Getting a second opinion? Getting a second opinion?? Getting a second opinion?! 

...My dude, since when have you wanted a “second opinion”?! Especially from Deceit! Since when did you confront a problem head-on, talk about it without bias, and was satisfied with a conclusion that didn’t cater to your liking?! I genuinely want to see you take initiative, not try to control everything, listen to everyone, and take your role seriously. Without trying to steer everything towards something you personally approve of.

I want to see you go through that change so badly. Drop the goofiness for a bit and commit. Please! *deep sigh*

- Virgil hissing at Deceit

He literally just came to get his hat, dude. He didn’t even acknowledge you. What is your deal? But I guess all Dee has to do is breathe and that’s enough cause for hostility. Jeez. There better be a really good explanation for Virgil’s attitude or I swear I will reach through the damn screen and deal with Virgil myself.

 - Logan putting his onesie on out of sight.

I think this really speaks volumes about how he’s treated. He’s so afraid of being ridiculed and not being respected that he has to hide what he likes. Logan feels if he actually indulges in his other interests openly, he won’t be able to actually enjoy it because it’s “silly” and of course Logan can’t be “silly” because it’s going to cost him his comfort and dignity. And it’s not like he’s wrong for feeling that way. 

There is such a lack of respect for him from the others, day in and day out. He can’t ever let his hair down and relax for a bit. The others complain about him being so closed-off but when opens up, he always gets shut down. When he makes jokes, he can’t just laugh with the others. It’ll be used as material against him later on if he does. (Ex: He misuses a word, it’s used against him later even though it clearly bothers him. It’s not teasing if the recipient isn’t laughing along.)

Logan wants a say in what they watch as a family? Yeah, no. Unless you wear that onesie that we’ll likely make fun of you for, your opinion is invalid.

I can’t imagine what this is doing to Logan’s mental health and self-esteem. Or can I? Because that last clip is pretty telling. Honestly, I respect Lo so much. He has to put up with so much bullshit yet he continues on and does his job anyway. Hopefully, he’ll find some way to feel better about himself.

- Roman using Deceit’s hat for something he isn’t even apart of and without permission (here we are)

Speaking of a complete lack of respect, what the fuck, Roman?! And literally everyone else!

Okay so, Deceit and the Light Sides are not anywhere near on good terms. Especially after S v S! They are not friendly with one another. There’s no dynamic here that allows any of the Light Sides to borrow something from Deceit. While I did laugh at Deceit’s reaction and Roman’s face after was genuinely priceless it still...got me thinking.

Deceit is mistreated all the time. He’s ignored, demonized, villainized by them at every turn. He and Remus aren’t included in any family get-togethers. When he was literally having an emotional breakdown he was laughed at (Virgil) and still ignored. Deceit did everything he could to be heard in a debate and was called “edgy” for expressing genuine concern over Thomas’s well being.

Then Roman obviously sneaks into his space and steals his hat to use for another debate that they’re having??? That also doubles as quality family time that he’s never included in??? Do I really need to explain how utterly disrespectful and messed up that is? And this is after they had the courtroom scenario and left on really tense terms. And they likely haven’t spoken since.

So not only is Deceit going to be constantly demonized, made fun of, and excluded from anything remotely affectionate...but he’s also going to get his personal items stolen on top of all that? How nice. And just...the salt in the wound of using it for a voting and family time...

I’m sorry if I’m repeating myself but I just can’t get over it! The nerve, the audacity...it’s so low!

I honestly don’t know how Deceit remains so civil with the others, it’s truly remarkable. I applaud you, Dee. Respect. Hopefully, you’ll get fairer treatment in the future.

[lordeasriel]

lord asriel’s quick analysis

Or why redemption isn’t always necessary.

Given that some people asked me to finish it and that I want to finish it, here’s my stroke over Lord Asriel’s arc. This is based on a post someone made it on reddit about the lack of redeeming traits on his part and this is my personal take on Asriel, so ok, here we go:

Let me get this out of the way: the thing about Lord Asriel is that he is not a redeemable character; that is not his purpose nor his story. He never seeks redemption, nor he sees his actions as a product of villainy or evil; in fact, Asriel believes he is quite righteous and he is willing to do whatever the fuck it takes to achieve his goals.

We never get a direct understanding of his motives: he does say he fights for freedom, he states his disgust with the Magisterium and the Kingdom of Heaven, and those who surround him believe in his cause and say, constantly, that his side is the right side, and that he fights for freedom and against the tyranny of the Church.

What is contantly overlooked is the fact Lord Asriel doesn’t require a redemption, this isn’t some sort of requirement a character needs every time they screw up. This, well, aversion to Asriel and the need to have him either punished or redeemed is solely based on the fact he killed Roger in cold blood, sort of, to wage his war for freedom. Was that fucked up? Absolutely! Does this means he requires redemption over that? No, and Philip Pullman himself explains why when Mary Malone says:

“I stopped believing there was a power of good and a power of evil that were outside us. And I came to believe that good and evil are names for what people do, not for what they are.” (The Amber Spyglass)

This has a lot to do with the recurring themes of the books, about morals, ethics and the poor use of free will by some, and it personifies almost every character in the books, from Lyra to Iorek. Everyone has committed some sort of bad deed at some point, but that does not label them as evil, and the same rules apply to Asriel. This is a man who’s crossed the very limits of the multiverse to achieve his goals, by being good in looking after the destruction of the Kingdom, and by being bad while killing Roger (plus being a bad father, a bad uncle, a bad lover, but let us remain philosophical for now).

Asriel is relentless, ruthless and sometimes, even cruel, to Lyra, to Marisa, to anyone really. At Jordan, he walks in, puts the fear of God (unironically lol) into almost everyone, including Lyra and the Master, he takes control of the enviroment and sets on to do what he went to Jordan for: to get money for his plot, so he can tear the sky apart and defy the Kingdom of Heaven. Lyra fears him (righteously) and admires his fierceness, she respects strength and brute force, it is the reason why she is so drawn to violent figures or rude characters, being herself quite rude and arrogant because she mirrors her uncle/dad.

He is considered to be a passionate man by almost everyone, and he causes a great impression in everyone he meets, including the reader. He was written as a likable character at first, made from scratch to fit in the role of the aloof, sometimes austere but caring uncle, or the traveler who serves as the inspiration for the hero (Bilbo Baggins, for quite the literal example, or Professor Kirke in Narnia). Sir Philip describes him, in Northern Lights:

“Then Lord Asriel stood up and turned away from the fire. She saw him fully, and marveled at the contrast he made with the plump Butler, the stooped and languid Scholars. Lord Asriel was a tall man with powerful shoulders, a fierce dark face, and eyes that seemed to flash and glitter with savage laughter. It was a face to be dominated by, or to fight: never a face to patronize or pity. All his movements were large and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild animal, and when he appeared in a room like this, he seemed a wild animal held in a cage too small for it. At the moment his expression was distant and preoccupied.”  (page 13, Knopf edition).

He is, at first, compared to other men in Lyra’s life (the scholars, mostly) only to be extravangantly praised for being nothing like those men. Stelmaria, quiet and reserved, beautiful and pacifying, is the ultimate contrast for Asriel; together, they are one, and he is an aristocrat with wild temper, and she is a snow leopard, a predator, but beautiful and wise. These are the representation of Satan, as in Paradise Lost: forsaken and forgotten by history for fighting the Authority, Asriel and Stelmaria are the embodiment of disobedience and they are bound to rebel again because that is their nature. All that’s left to them is a reason and the Magisterium, oh boy, they’ve given them plenty.

Now, think about a man who’s had everything, then this rising power that was the Magisterium, comes and takes everything from him, from his money to his daughter over something, not trivial, but certainly something that didn’t require such harsh method of punishment; considering a lot of his wealth was confiscated and assuming he had to pay a lot of fees and taxes because of the Court Trial, he was very much not the man he was before Mrs. Coulter’s affair with him. He obeys the rules and stays away from Lyra, only to discover her mother is with the Church and that they intend to harm Lyra, even after he played nice. His friends in Oakley Street are trying to protect Lyra, but against the Magisterium, after witnessing how powerful they are, how far gone they are willing to go, things aren’t looking very bright for Asriel. He even says, in Northern Lights:

“They’re stronger than anyone, Asriel! You don’t know-”

“I don’t know? I? No one in the world knows better than I how strong the Church is! But it isn’t strong enough for this. The Dust will change everything, anyway. There’s no stopping it now.” (page 394, Knopf edition).

The Asriel we meet in La Belle Sauvage is younger and a man who’s just been massacred by the Church, as he reminds us of in Northern Lights; he is wounded after all that has happened, almost in a tender way, as if he had been softened by it. But he still is himself; proud, arrogant and scholarly, he risks Lyra’s safety and his own to indulge himself and be with her for a while, to spite the Magisterium and its distasteful influence. Under the moonlight, he loves her so immensely, in such a raw and fiery way, that for a moment Malcolm even thinks Asriel might leave with her, and so did I.

Everything Asriel does, everything that leads to his war in the name of the Republic of Heaven, has to do with Lyra’s birth and how he lost everything because of the injustice the Magisterium imposed on the world; how he had an affair with a woman he loved and how she could easily have gotten a divorce to prevent all of that; how they took his fortune and prestige because he was defiant. The murders, the oppression, his career as a scholar, his life as a whole, and then after the affair, his daughter’s, all was threatened by the Magisterium. It’s hard to say when he decided to fuck up the sky, but I like to think by the time he left Lyra at Jordan, he was already working on his revenge, because when he lost everything, that was his turning point. He doesn’t do any of this because he is a caring, loving person; he does out of hatred and indignation, two powerful tools that fuel his existence for the next twelve years, perhaps even before then, in small dosages. 

There’s constant evidence of his hatred for the Church and their dogmas, especially on chapter 21 in Northern Lights, when he monologues to Lyra about Dust and how the Church allowed such things as Bolvangar to happen, implying that as many others, including scholars, he knew about what was happening. There could be a number of reasons as to why he didn’t interfer, and the most obvious one is that he was in prison, so there wasn’t much he could in his position. A second, deeper reason, is Mrs. Coulter’s involvement with Bolvangar, and by involvement I mean leadership, basically. He was fully aware she was the one responsible for Bolvangar, even enlightening us:

“That’s why they had to hide away in the far North, in darkness and obscurity. And why the Church was glad to have someone like your mother in charge, Who could doubt someone so charming, so well-connected, so sweet and reasonable?” (page 374/375, Knopf edition).

He speaks of her work with contempt and distaste, but also in a tone as someone who once fell for her masquerade before fully understanding who she was and her ultimate goal. Being his former lover, he sees the fact she works with the very Church who ruined him because of her, as disgusting despite their weird relationship dynamic, (which I could write a whole essay on but I’m not, because I already did it in college and that essay took me to a very dark place lol) and he despises her relation to the Church far more than he despises the nature of her work. And, as we see in the Amber Spyglass, despite inviting her to come with him, he is not eager to be in her company because he simply doesn’t trust himself when it comes to her and neither does anyone who knows both of them.

But the main reason he didn’t interfere, it’s because Bolvangar’s action, however crude and in favour of his enemies, was something he could take advantage of and their cruelty simply didn’t concern his own work, even if it was a discovery of his own that allowed such a thing. While they were doing something awful, they were too busy to notice his domination over his own house arrest or his plans in general, giving him the time and space he needed to finish his work.

Cruel and straightforward, Asriel is too practical and indecent to say he cared about the children: he hated what they were doing because the Church was tied to it; La Belle Sauvage!Asriel might have interfered and cared about it (he saved gyptian children from a flood, restored Malcolm’s boat, was gentle and wise in a rough way), but Northern Lights!Asriel was simply far too blindsided by his wrath against the Authority and the Church to give a damn. The only moment we see him hesitate is when he sees Lyra in the North, and for a moment he is taken by the shock of thinking he might have to sacrifice Lyra to kill God and destroy the Church, who was trying to, you know, kill Lyra. An ironic and cruel position to put him in, and he would’ve killed her, make no mistake; he keeps away from her because he simply knows he would’ve sacrificed her, or anyone else, including himself, to destroy God and the Magisterium.

Understanding this wild, carefree and inconsequential man is a crude task. The thing is, redemption is an overused trope and not everyone that does something bad needs it (or wants it for the matter), Asriel being the person who least requires it, because:

He is not a villain. I have seen this a lot and it honestly confuses me. Asriel, if anything, plays the part of the antihero, and even then he does so very loosely. We are constantly reassured by him and by basically every third party in the book (Ruta Skadi and her infatuation, John Parry and his wise comprehension, Baruch and Balthamos and their first-hand experience of the Kingdom’s brutality, amongst others) that Asriel is the “hero” of the war, that he is righteous and the one with the right views. He is not your conventional saviour, in fact, he is human and flawed, self-centered and ambitious, but charismatic and knowledgeable; that blur our senses and the lines and we’re stuck thinking he is either a hero or a villain when Asriel is, in fact, neither.

His ultimate goal is clear, albeit readable only between the lines sometimes. He is a liar, arrogant and wrathful, but once we get to the Subtle Knife, his goal is more clear, at least from Thorold and John Parry’s points of view (Ruta Skadi too, but she is far too unreliable for being too infatuated with Asriel): he wants to kill God and take down the Kingdom of Heaven. He says it’s for freedom and blah-blah-blah, and although I believe he seeks that outcome in the end, the reason he is doing this is much more self-serving and closer to revenge rather than doing what is right. He is a spiteful man, whom has been robbed of his wealth and his life by a religious institution who serves God and does anything in the name of God. Asriel wants to take them down because it satiates his need for vengeance, alongside his scholarly nature, by being a pioneer and an explorer of multiple worlds. It’s an ego booster, something to pat yourself on the back for.

He is unapologetic. He never apologises, or seems regretful over his actions. He isn’t apathetic, but he clearly does not resent his own choices. Killing Roger was a tough decision, but one he was intent on making because it was what he needed to do to achieve his purpose (hence his hesitation towards Lyra; he would’ve killed her if Roger wasn’t there). That was by far the most beautiful and sensible death ever written by Pullman: he doesn’t extend it or makes it purposefully dramatic and that’s because Roger’s death was merely a switch for everything else: Lyra and Asriel’s journey. Sir Philip makes us believe that Lyra’s ultimate goal is to stop her warmongering father, then he dismantles Asriel’s portrayal as the endgame bad guy for things of higher nature and Lyra simply stop blaming him, instead blaming herself, and everything she does from them on, is to spite Asriel by always staying away from him and his Republic.

These three aspects of Lord Asriel’s character core are relevant because they exempt him of a redemption arc. He doesn’t need to be redeemed, he asks for no forgiveness and he knew, from the start, where things were going. Perhaps not on Lyra’s account, but the overall outcome of his war. He never backs down, nor hesitates and Ogunwe claims:

“We’re not going to invade the Kingdom,” he said, “but if the Kingdom invades us, they had better be ready for war, because we are prepared.” (page 210, The Amber Spyglass, Knopf edition).

Despite the Republic’s claims of being builders, not conquerors, Asriel was the commander of a massive force and he was, fully aware, that the Kingdom would not leave them be to mind their business. They wanted that war, he wanted that war, and everything he did was because of it. That is why he only is granted peace, in a sense, in death as they plunge down into the abyss; it was a price worth paying for wrecking Heaven. He never truly dies, but instead is forged into oblivion.

A villain can be redeemed, and so can a purposeless character, but Asriel is neither of these things. He has a clear purpose, and he has done good and bad things in his life, he never apologises for what he’s done and he doesn’t intend to. He mimics great rebels of epic stories, and he embodies all that is truthful and essential to human nature: knowledge, passion, rebellious mind, the apex of free will and the wrath against those who do us wrong. He is neither a saint, nor sinner: he is both, as are every person in those books, and he embraces fully his nature. Once again, as Mary said: he’s done bad things, but he isn’t evil himself. No one truly is.

And this is it, sorry for the essay, I have thing for academic men in linen shirts who want to tear Heaven apart lol  @laciefuyu this is for you hahah 

[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and melting Walls (4/8) “Little Talks”

General

Summary: Lunch break rolls around. Remy and Emile make a deal.

Tags: food, eating, employer/employee, pining, remy, emile, kitty Virgil, quick mention of bereavement, sick days, systematic issues, ew world, fish, feeding the beast, mutual crushes, genderqueer characters, migraines, headaches, pain mention, exhaustion.

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tumblr:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 (you are here!) / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8.

 Story under the cut - Word count: almost 3k

Remy sighed and pushed his keyboard away, effectively managing to continue to press until the keyboard was unable to go any further since it hit the screen’s humble frame. Eventually, he just worked to drive himself away from the big desk he was working at. The swivel chair let him roll all over the floor, the tiled ground smooth and willing to let him pass without obstacle. Virgil commented his shenanigans with a little movement of their ear. It was just a quick flinch. Remy was not sure but he suspected it meant he was listening or registering noise at least.

 It was cute.

But.

This bastard cat was sleeping.

 The man sighed again.

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Queen, I swear-”

 Well, no matter how threatening the fancy man tried to be, it did not reach the napping cat. The little void was all comfortable in his lap. There was not a single motion at his dramatic actions, not even a simple reaction. There was nothing but a bundle of black, so black that they camouflaged themself into the blackness of Remy’s pants. All that distinguished one from another was the slow movement of rising and falling.

 Virgil was breathing alright. That was good.

Could cats have breathing problems? The vet said the cat was okay. Still, he made a mental note to look out for any signs.  

Knowing they were okay for now - with a pass by the vet - Remy felt like he could breathe much better himself. He had not noticed it but he released a soft sigh of relief. His eyes lowered to just watch the little blob of colourless something rest on his thighs.

 “I have lunch time, V, would you kindly get up and be awake and do cat things? You were awake all morning with me!”

 Despite his complaints, Remy’s words were barely audible. The receptionist was more or less hissing to himself and it sounded like a small snake cursing the world somewhere from the little hidden corner on the other side of the room.

Far, far away.

His threats were as empty as his condescension. Nothing but attitude.

 The kitten remained still and as much dopamine as there was being released within Remy, he could not help but wish to move...then again, the kitty cat was absolutely warm and the little weight on him was somewhat comforting in a refreshing manner.

 He had already finished most of his work despite having been late this morning and even needing to deal with a certain storm of emails and phone calls. Not to forget the actual real life human people that encountered him face to face.

Ugh - the worst kind of people.

 Oh fuck, he wanted more coffee. He wanted all the coffee he could ask for and then just nap for a few minutes and then get work done and go home and read some dumb romance novel.

Don’t judge.

He needed to get his prince charming from somewhere. It was not like Remy was dating anyone particularly... existing in the first place. And he just really craved some fucking love shit every now and then. You know, the soft trash with people holding hands and giving each other pet names and one bringing flowers for the others and that one thinking of a certain habit the one has so they are considering it in their regular activities.

 Remy’s facial expression faded from soft into something akin to receiving news of a bad weather day when you planned on doing any outdoor-activities with friends.

 It just ... it was missing.

 “Ah! You are done?”

 Remy flinched, his little dream world immediately breaking down as the voice cut through the silence of his new office. His fantasy bubble blobbed violently on impact of Emile’s intrusive words hitting him. He looked up. A person was standing there, apologising and knocking. Knocking after already standing in the doorway and having addressed him.

 It was not a knight in shining armour to save a bored damsel in distress nor was it prince charming, ready to sweep the sleepy man off his feet. 

It was just his boss, Emile.

 ...But it was his boss, Emile.

 Remy smiled and let himself fall back into his chair. He had not noticed how he had sat up with the sudden noise interrupting his thoughts. And his arms were slung around a sleepy yet awake little Virgil. As always, his grip was rather loose around the kitten. In a case of need, he would be tehre to hold and hug them, though.

 “Aw, I am sorry. I should have knocked before. Did I wake them up?”

 Remy blinked and nodded. Virgil was not awake but he nodded anyway, just doing it for literally no reason. Emile saw the sleeping kitten but did not comment.They squinted for a moment, worry shading their features.

 Was that just him or did it smell of food already?

Oh fuck, he had forgotten about the food. Bitch, this cat would literally make him forget and miss about everything and all. First his post-work nap, then his rave, his whole weekend, now his work and lunch break were affected, too.

 “You got food? Come in, come in.”

 This little void was easily eating away his whole life without any hesitation. He readily let him.. In his defence, they looked so cute when yawning. The charcoal demon was stretched out on Remy’s lap and pushed their tail against his chest, turning to Emile and meowing at the boss.

 Did they seriously greet them? Literally, Remy could not- this cat!

 Or maybe they meowed at the smell, it did kind of smell nice after all and the kitten had slept through his entire time here after he had gotten to work. Not even Virgil liked mornings or staying up. At least they could get back to napping, Remy jealously noticed.

 “Virgil just woke up, what a coincidence”, Remy spoke, words jokingly snippy as he carefully picked up the kitten and stroked through their fur.

“Good morning little sleepy head.”

 The kitten replied with a big orchestra of purrs and an eager bonk as they crashed their head against Remy’s. Little ferocious kitten attacking him.

 “Emile, I promise they want to kill me!”

 They laughed and held up a bag of food, slowly swinging it from one side to another.

 “Maybe we can bribe them with some lunch? It’s on me, meet you in the lunch room.”

 Remy carefully squeezed the kitten as his higher-up turned around to show their graceful behind, clothed in layers of pastels and beige. They looked the softest in the most boring yet also least boring way. It was weirdly hot, in a kinda cute and endearing way. Also, pastel colours just looked soft and somehow, they made it look professional but in a trustworthy and warm kind of way.

 It made Remy feel fuzzy and he hated loving it so much. Damn them for being so wickedly attractive.

 He swallowed his secret pining away and decided to get his kitten ready to follow Emile and get some food. Once he had his phone pocketed and his grip on Virgil secured, he was ready to walk after them. When they were close enough, he snuck over to the other side to handle whatever the heck Em wanted to talk about.

 Knowing them, it was probably something nice and soft or extra work that would get paid for super well because Emile was about the most considerate employer he had ever met. Also, because Remy was working as an untrained accountant while receiving full pay for handling literally all this business. Emile only made the official calls. Remy did not mind it because he knew, they somewhat advocated for this stance that employees were actual human beings. This meant they had needs and therefore were to be valued and appreciated and given space and freedom, so they could be creative and work effectively with as little restrictions as possible.

 Hence, Remy was allowed to hang up whatever kind of pictures and decorate his office in any kind of way. Well, nudity and such was not allowed, considering sometimes minors would enter the clinic as well, but other than that, Remy had challenged the therapist a lot.

They never let him down.

 Also, they handled his amount of sick days without issues and allowed him to hand in more sick days than he legally had to accept. They easily brushed it off as half-work day or employer-covered vacation. You know, like the stuff you got when sick days counted but in that case, you did not have any and still got pay and zero threats. Or like, bereavement leave and all.

 Emile and Remy got together and the former put out the meals and slid them into their respective places as Remy got some plates and cutlery. The lunch room was a small kitchen. It had the most essential things. Virgil was standing on Remy’s seat and lurked around. Their tail was showing despite the table stealing the view on them. Emile could see them and they saw the tail slowly swishing from one side to the other.

 Hovering, waiting. Patiently. Like a predator.

 Remy returned and put the plates down.

 “Kitty, what the fuck are you doing”

 Virgil meowed, eyes wide. Their tail stood upright with a little curl forming itself into its tip. This little void was living the life of luxury and decadence to just eat and be carried, then sleep and get woken up only to get some more food.

Remy was thriving on this attitude. What a luxury hoe. Such a Queen.

 “Remy, I think your cat will eat with us”

 His boss chuckled quietly and seated themself while Remy just sighed, rolling his eyes. By now, his head was hurting already. Not much but it was starting to hurt - moving hurt. It felt heavy and made him sleepy and exhausted.

Concentration was.. slightly off. Especially his sustained attention.

 He carefully picked up his void and put them into his lap.

 “Meow!”

 “Yes, Virgil, yes. You will eat with us, just calm down.”

 The kitten wiggled in his lap and put their paws on the edge of the table, looking at the hot sweating food containers.

 “Virgil, behave. Come on, honey”, Remy warned.

 Even his voice seemed heavy and tired. He missed his nap. In spite of this, he was being an attentive “temporary pet-keeper”. His hand moved to gently nudge the paws away from the table. Then, he picked them up to let the kitten dance dance dance a bit.

 “I am a good kitty and I will wait”, Remy mimicked softly and moved the paws from one side to the other as Virgil patiently stood on their hind paws and stared at the world in confusion.

 Emile giggled at the display while Virgil did not know what the heck was going on. Did their temporary owner go insane? They pulled out another chair on which they prepared a smaller bowl with a bit of fish in it. No seasoning or spice or anything. They had gotten it from a nearby store they had visited on the way to pick up the food order. After all, they had not been sure about whether or not Remy actually had brought some food for the kitten but apparently, this arrangement worked and Virgil’s interest was sparked.

 They watched the bowl move from Emile’s hands over to the seat and once the bowl was settled, the kitten launched themself over to the chair and ducked their tiny raven head into the big bowl. Their whole head disappeared in it and only these dark ears peeked out from within.

Silent chewing noise could be heard.

 “Remy! Remy! They eat the food I brought! Look at this kitten!”

 The receptionist couldn’t deny himself the joy of a small smile as he looked over at the small bundle of darkness hunched over the food bowl and purring in delight. In addition to this, Emile was giggling, beaming in delight and genuinely touched.

Remy looked up at them. For a moment, their eyes locked but they both looked away, averting their gazes to look at Virgil instead.

 It was rather silent for a moment, safe for the rhythmic vibrations coming from Virgil. Apparently they enjoyed their food.

 “Hey, hey - careful now!”, he warned with a grin on his face.

 He nudged his sunglasses off his head and let them slip down and onto his nose to cover his half-lidded eyes. They gleamed at Emile for a moment.

 “If you keep that up, maybe you will be their new favourite human.”

 Emile held their chest for a moment and settled opposite of Remy. Their cheeks seemed slightly reddened but they concealed it by tending to the food. They put some of the steamed vegetables onto their plate and added some fried rice. To top it all of, he had a bit of natural yoghurt from the fridge.

 They returned the playful shine in Remy’s eyes by smirking at him.

 “You say that as if this was a bad thing, Remy “

 Remy snorted.

 “You say this as if you were planning to take this poor little cat away from my horrid claws, Emile.”

 Remy had finally arranged his food on his plate, steam curling upwards from his curry and rice. Even the food containers were still sweating and smoking in heat. They looked as if these containers acted like some sort of sauna. He fed himself a first spoonful of fried rice - the tiny brown one that looked like some holy glazed rice and so small it barely qualified as anything at all - and leaned into his seat.

 Oh, this was just delightful.

Savoury flavour bloomed in his mouth, exploding in contrasts to the soft and squishy rice with the slightly harder vegetables. The different tastes stimulated his tongue just right.

If someone said foodgasms were a lie, they were missing out on this delight. It was the most subjective of all paradises.

  “The thing I wanted to talk to you about-”, Emile started, taking a bit of time to drink something in between.

 Talking all day made their throat as dry as a sand dessert.

 “You can keep my office and let your cat come to work with you but I need to ask a little favour of you. I am sure you will want to agree! “

 Remy shifted in his seat. He blinked for a moment but gave a small nod to indicate he was not just listening to probably on board for whatever Emile was planning to have him do. The therapist let their lips curl into a genuine smile.

 “We need to give our new offices a makeover! I bet you would feel more comfortable in a novel set of four walls, huh?”

 The receptionist’s cheeks darkened by a whole shade and his chest jumped for a minuscule moment. Just a little harder. He was sure it was visible and even the kitten raised their head to look at the two, staring into Emile before letting their gaze rest on their temporary owner.

However, they quickly lost interest and returned to chewing on their food.

 “Well, that sounds amazing but I.. Virgil isn’t mine.”

 Emile blinked and the kitten meowed, nudging back the bowl and retreating to Remy’s lap. He willingly picked up the void and brushed through their fur as always. The bowl was licked clean and absolutely blank. Apparently, the cat was more than just a bit into it.

 It was silent once more. Even the cat did not purr despite the soft head scritches they got. Remy pursed their lips, a shadow hitting their face.

Their whole beauty was obstructed.

 “See, their owners still might answer. I put up some signs and made a few posts on forums about missing pets. When I went to nearby shelters and called vets, I gave them a picture of Virgil and left my contact details around. They are not tattooed but they are too tame to be a wild cat.”

 Remy shrugged, voice deflated as he continued. The narrowed their eyes at him. The idea of an unaffected Remy seemed unrealistic. The man was cuddling the cat and wanted to call in sick - while knowing about how scarce his sick days were.

 “What if someone moved and accidentally left Virgil abandoned? Or they ran away during the chaos of moving?”

He sighed.

“You know, if nobody responds within a week, I think I will take you up on it. Until then I will just steal your office, honey.”

 His low voice swung up at the end of his sentence and he even let a small smile grow on his lips. Anyway, it was time to pay attention to his food. It was so much better than to look at Emile’s doubtful face.

 “You know what”, Emile countered, “I have the feeling Virgil will stay with you. Nobody responded in days and they are attached to you. It would be cruel to separate you know.”

 They helped themself to a bit more vegetables.

 “Just you wait, Remy.”

 The receptionist smirked back at them.

 “Whatever, honey~”

[tenitchyfingers]

Ok this is completely random but we should face the fact that if people’s knee-jerk reaction to media criticism is “oh so you think everything with this theme should stop existing” and “oh so you think everyone who enjoys X is a Nazi/racist/homophobic/etc” that’s because for a long time that was actually what people were saying. You had people literally saying shit like “if you like Marvel movies you’re a fascist and should kill yourself” or “Dante’s work should literally stop existing and if you like it you’re *roll a dice for a random buzzword*” and it wasn’t just fringe elements, it was everywhere.

I like to think we learnt to analyze media in a bit more of a nuanced way, but we can’t just say “you’re invoking a strawman/making a hyperbole out of nowhere” or “nobody said that”, because that is what people have been saying until not too long ago and we all were influenced by that shit ass online environment. And we should take responsibility for it, because going straight for someone’s jugular like that has proven to be entirely counter-productive and push people more and more towards the right wing or extreme right wing, because nobody wants to be yelled at for enjoying a piece of media (unless they’re saying Birth of a Nation or Nazi propaganda footage has good content and cases like this, obviously, but back then you’d have people twisting themselves backward to look for something, anything they could use to attack others, like the Chihiro situation in the Danganronpa fandom where white kids literally chased a Japanese trans woman out of the website by hurling relentless abuse, death threats and anon hate at her for telling them that they were wrong, actually, and honestly she was completely right but... white kids on here were really feral all the time back then).

I like to think it was fascists pretending to be leftists and liberal in order to create chaos, but... I cannot assume that of everyone. Most of them were most likely teenagers repeating some shit someone else was saying without thinking of the repercussions that would fall on the minorities they were speaking for. The fact that every social justice matter now can boil down to “sjw bullshit” and be dismissed is a direct consequence of people being extreme in their reactions and criticism of media, where they might have had a point but their methods pushed everyone else away and towards a more conservative philosophy, because again... if you yell at people you’re not going to make them listen to you, they’re just going to think you’re insane and go somewhere else. Right in the arms of the “rational and logical” right wingers.

What I’m saying is that every action has a consequence and we all fucked up years ago and now bad actors are taking advantage of it, and I’m absolutely certain those behaviors are in some part a contributing factor to how much of media discourse spaces is filled up with people who think feminism is all about genderbending male characters and censoring boobs from comics and “taking the videogames away”, or that queer people are irrational heathens who want straight people to die. They didn’t come up with that out of nowhere, they were told exactly that for a while and came to their own conclusions. So now if you’re advocating for trans people you’ll always have that one dude being like “so you want me to kiss the ground you walk on”, because people on here for a while were basically saying that.

And the other thing we fucked up on is the whole white savior and cultural appropriation thing. Because both are valid concepts that should be discussed... when they actually apply. But towards 2013-2014 you could get accused of being a white savior and hence a racist for saying ANYTHING in support of minorities, so the default behavior would be leaving it alone. If BLM had been a mainstream movement back then, you can bet you would’ve had people saying like “stop being a white savior, stay in your lane” or shit like that. Which is the entire reason why you have people now being AFRAID of speaking out about racism sometimes, or thinking it’s not their battle: because they were yelled at and sometimes harassed for it. James Corden said this just a few days ago, that he was keeping quiet about BLM because “it’s not about him”, and that makes complete sense to me because literally for a while we were telling people “this discussion is not about you” and maybe sending them anon hate too. This happened, I’m not making anything up, and I’m sure people who have been here for more than 5 years have seen this behavior around.

And speaking of harassment: if you repeatedly send someone anon hate and death threats and doxx them you are telling them that your side isn’t friendly, that it’s aggressive and they are not welcome to get educated and check out what your side is about, your point of view and your points. Which is ultimately damaging for your side, because you want people to increasingly approach it and maybe change their mind about things. Which is why a welcoming environment is CRUCIAL. And i don’t mean that you should kiss people’s ass or anything, but simply realize other people are humans just like you and you should not bulldoze them looking for a gotcha or a win the way Ben Shapiro fundamentally does, you should always assume someone is misguided or didn’t see a different angle and you should start by helping them see that angle, without going for direct personal attacks or shaming them for being ignorant or misguided right away. You should also always assume that a good conversation is going to have an impact and the person you talked to might come around eventually. Or not, but the seed should be there and it should be a seed of understanding and humanity. People respond to that a lot.

Things are better now, but again, people’s reactions to these themes don’t come out of nothing, and if people go “you hate men/white people/straight people/etc” even though you said something different, it’s for a reason.

[b0x]

i hate that post that's like “we would've gotten a better trilogy if they'd just let rian johnson write all three films than playing hot potato with jj” like i get the point it's trying to make but you're forgetting that rj was fighting tooth and nail for the tlj r*ylo narrative since day 1 so you do realise we would've just gotten the same trilogy as we got now.......

further Thoughts on the trilogy as a whole and a few troc spoilers under the cut

also you KNOW that even if jj COULD have had a hand in saving it... there’s no saving a screenplay written by the guy who did the justice league films

No Comment. No Thoughts. Head Empty. everything post tfa was doomed from the start

have you SEEN the screenwriters for tfa? THAT’S why that one was so good, THAT’S why tfa succeeded as an excellent reboot of a long-dormant franchise. kasdan and arndt and jj should've been on for ALL THREE, and if they couldn’t, then a hiatus was the way to fucking go. rian never should have Touched it, never should have even Looked in its direction.

tfa had the essence of sw BECAUSE the essence of sw wrote it! tlj and tros isn’t sw!!!! 

they rly just tried to make Anakin..... 2! with kylo... but somehow... even Worse. you can’t make an anakin story Without showing kylo’s motives and morals - oh, except, you Did show his motives and morals, and they were in no way redeeming whatsoever! anakin had a whole ARC of complexity that allows for endless discussion on morality and justifiability that led him to earn his redemption. all kylo had was a blood tie to han and leia, which!!!! if anything!!!!!! made his motives and morals WORSE, knowing that he had the most IDEAL most loving and perfect upbringing and he still chose the dark side. that makes any love received from han or leia or luka or even fucking rey completely insignificant because we ALREADY KNOW what it means to him. all of this shit was so worthless!!!!!!!! fuck!

and i have a lot to say about rian johnson because i Cannot for the life of me believe the guy behind BRICK (2005) was taken on for tlj, WHILE TFA WASN’T EVEN FINISHED YET. i really didn’t think this had to be said but that is just NOT how you make a Trilogy. that is how you make Three Separate Films and guess what! that is exactly what we got! and it honestly saddens me to think that the guy behind the beautiful 6 minute music video ‘oh baby’ by lcd sound system, inspired by some of his greatest work in looper (and even brick!), would then take the absolute worst of his worst and apply that to a star wars franchise that desperately needed his best. and there’s something hilarious about that too, that you have this huge sandbox FULL of belief-suspending ridiculousness and STILL somehow make it fail? make it atrocious? that takes skill. it’s like that one post that was like “you have to ACTUALLY put EFFORT into making something this bad” like it’s no longer silly mistakes or lacklustre energy, this was ACTIVE sabotage.

the fact rian Had the Understanding of the core concepts of star wars right in his hands, but somehow completely missed the entire point of them? if you look at the films he screened to his story group during the development of tlj... this handful of culturally and historically significant war films that just seem like he screened for aesthetic and reference purposes only instead of actually exploring and analysing the importance and criticism of the exonerating war propaganda and racist source materials and using these films to inspire the actual groundwork of some of the root themes of current climates and today’s culture in a sw universe... i bet big bucks on the fact that twelve o clock high was only screened to inspire the air battle on crait (red salt planet) and because of ‘VIII Bomber Command’ because ha ha hee hee tlj is episode VIII and hoo hoo hoo *you’ve been gnomed.mp4* 

the general rule is this: when reading ANY report on tlj and tros and something like “the characters came first” is mentioned, just exit out the window, it’s already a botched article/thinkpiece.

i’m also thinking a lot about how arndt translated his first draft for tfa into a script for eight months and said he needed 18 more, which disney and jj said no to, so he left, and IMMEDIATELY after jj kept saying how relieved he was that the release date was delayed and gave him more time that he also needed. like.. you had your lesson then and there. did they learn from it? *disney forcing rian to write tlj at the same time as tfa was still being made* No!

i am ALSO thinking about how they had considered fincher, brad bird, jon favreau, del toro, even getting development suggestions by spielberg.......... and rian johnson is who they called up for tlj.... my head is... empty.

just give the fucking thing to taika waititi he understands the nuances of the socio-political climates of sw’s narratives built around a guise of a fun sci-fi fantasy adventure-drama. he understands. that’s literally the very definition of his style of writing and directing. Makes You Think Why The Mandalorian Is A Hit.... they already gave him 2 mandalorian episodes just give him the whole franchise i cant take it anymore. 

AND NOW THEY’RE GIVING RIAN JOHNSON A WHOLE NEW TRILOGY? RIAN? RIAN JOHNSON? THEY’RE GIVING HIM A WHOLE NEW TRILOGY AFTER WHAT HAPPENED... HERE. SURE.. OKAY . ALRIGHT. IT’S HONESTLY MIND-BLOWING. THE THOUGHT PROCESS THAT GOES INTO CONSECUTIVE DECISIONS SUCH AS THIS. like i would LOVE to see footage of the board meeting for this. no sarcasm i am GENUINELY curious to hear what was said to greenlight this. i have GOT to know what post tros board meetings about this will be like. 

anyway! op of that post! i will be thinking about you when the new rj trilogy drops!

what’s worse about this whole trilogy is that.. they Had it. they had it in the bag with tfa. they HAD the original idea they HAD the power to make a sw trilogy set to current climates JUST LIKE THE PREVIOUS TRILOGIES DID, cos that’s what sw is all about! what it was ALWAYS about! a space opera reflective of current times and climates. but disney turned it into a Keeping Up With The Skywalkers reality tv show that’s nothing more than a sci-fi fantasy light show and vfx flex to keep the brand alive, and personally, i think that’s ultimately one of the reasons it’s so hated and why it failed (of course rampant misogyny/sexism, racism, homophobia under the guise of geek culture within the sw community and in the production itself is a whole other discussion and is another humongous part of why it’s hated and why it failed)

and it’s why hamill had every right to criticise tlj the way he did with rotj, why boyega and isaac and ridley had Every right to their commentary on their distaste of the second and third instalments. how the only reason they’d rescind what they said was due to their contracts. how their silence was necessary to squeeze every last dollar out of consumers because god forbid a potential boycott due to their own star’s “controversial” (Correct) judgements and disapprovals

they really had it in the bag..

a female protagonist who could be a chosen one regardless of her blood and family ties, a protagonist that reflected the importance and validity of found family, and the idea that Anyone can be a “Skywalker”, a symbol of hope and a fighter for justice and goodness and love in the world, especially in the darkest of times... a young woman being just as powerful, as Chosen, as essential as Luke and Anakin were... a narrative that couldve been commentary on the necessity of women needing to do double the work, make double the effort, to earn the same spot of her counterparts. and with the second and third instalments, especially NOW, with the growth and vocalisation of the MeToo movement, the narrative of strength to speak out against abusers, to fight back and to thrive, a symbol of justice, to teach that men such as kylo who refuse consequence, who actively and soberly choose violence and manipulation for the strengthening of the self, who will ignore and deny all opportunities to better the self, to know their guilt, to make up for their actions, are the ones who are irredeemable. that people like him are not owed any time or understanding or belief in, when that belief perpetuates the violent and oppressive nature they are indefinitely attracted to and make themselves defined by.

a black hero raised by violence and refusing to be defined by it and unlocking the force within as a symbol of that strength within over encompassing goodness, to have a hero that breaks that harmful narrative stereotype that black characters have had for decades and still continue to do so, to have a voice and a hero that fights with love and kindness, that is able to find family and support in a place beyond what he believes he is allowed to have, the significance of a hero being deemed a “traitor”, a term that holds weight in the shame of seeking your own independence and identity, versus the cathartic empowerment of thriving in the independence you make for yourself in the end. a black hero that defeats his oppressors, oppressors that belong to a policing fascist regime, a faction that has always from the very beginning been a depiction of nazis, of authoritarian nationalism. 

a canonical gay latino man freedom fighter, being the best in his career as a literal symbol of hope for the resistance, a literal symbol of the climates for lgbt folk in regards to resisting those same fascist nazi regimes, resisting laws against lgbt existence, lgbt employability, lgbt success. a man who grew into a legacy of heroism, surrounded by it, something that could have been powerful poignant commentary on the necessity to sacrifice lives so others like his didn’t have to, the very narrative to fight for a world that the innocents and the ones he loves could have peace in, could have a future in, could Exist in. poe fights in the skies because he knew damn well the effect of believing in someone that is human, like you, instead of a force that is bigger than anything you could ever know or believe in. poe brings humanity and realism to an otherwise fanatical universe of magic and religion and chaos of endless war that means nothing, that is based on nothing. poe is commentary on fighting a fight that you have no choice but to fight, that you are forced to fight from birth just for the very act of Existing. his humanity and realism is a significant grounding necessity for our two protagonist heroes and it is appalling that he’d just be discarded the way he was, shallowly played off as sideline comic relief, much like lgbt narratives and characters are expressed in pretty much ANY media today, so it comes as no surprise. 

the three most vital narratives that should have been told in this trilogy but no of course not (disney voice) gimme my Fackin MANEY. it’s the silence of marginalised voices cleverly disguised under hollow face-value representation.

honestly, even rey being blood-related to palpatine as his granddaughter was such a strong and perfect set-up for The Narrative That Could’ve Been TM, but instead they had palpatine make it a whole weird pseudo-marriage thing that was just so. backwards and unbelievably shocking that it was in a 2019 era star wars film.

wow marriage story and the rise of skywalker really is the same movie huh

yes we wanted a grey jedi protagonist hero that gets tempted by the dark side but this was the absolute worst way that could’ve been explored. like if they were just gonna recycle old characters and old storylines and make them worse they could’ve at least looked at darth maul or asajj ventress and the nightsisters

and NO WONDER oscar looked so DEFEATED every time finnpoe was mentioned cos he fought for that shit tooth and nail and they? ? ? they gave him a funny ha ha hee hee hoo hoo straight flirt scene? ? with like his ex or something, where they imply they get back together? COMPLETELY destroying the ENTIRE narrative of his character that was so lovingly built and developed in the Official Canon Comic Series About Him ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

NO WORDS. there are NO WORDS. head EMPTY. no not even empty there's NO HEAD at all i am BEHEADED

finn had NOTHING in this film. Nothing. how are you gonna make him a joint-protag with rey and give him Nothing? 

anyone with brain cells knows that what finn truly was trying to tell rey the entire film was that he was force sensitive, i will take this to my grave, and that should’ve built up to this grand reveal where they empower each other and take down palpatine and kylo as one, as the joint-protagonists they were Literally Fucking Written And Built Up To Be. they gave EVERY antagonist to REY. what was the POINT. rey had her significant clash with kylo across two films, hell, even in this one (before the Final one), tros was the penultimate film about her family, her bloodline, so her significant final battle should have been with palpatine a la rotj. the person who DESERVED to clash with and take down kylo once and for all was FINN, even a TODDLER would understand WHY. 

but considering everything, i would take the thing finn was trying to tell her the entire film being that he loves her ANY DAY if it meant whatever the fuck we got instead Never Happened.

finn got made general and not only was it a blink-and-you-miss bit but it adds NOTHING, yes it’s something to celebrate and of Course he deserves it, but it holds zero significance to him as a character. like i mentioned earlier, when han was made general, that never defined him. he was still han solo and it took a Dozen other significant scenarios and twists to make him a significant and vital memorable character. han solo isn’t known for “being a general”. he’s known for being han fucking solo, a critical puzzle piece in the taking down of the empire, a scamp-turned-deeply-loyal friend and lover, a man who not only got his own personal storyline concluded to the level it deserved to be (the repercussions of his bounty hunter life, the importance of the falcon, his relationships with lando, luke, and leia, his triumph over his captors even when it was luke and leia who freed him). 

side note, this was maybe the one thing that tfa screwed up, the entire point and development of the original trilogy, it sort of felt a bit moot with how they put a “twist” on han, leia and luke’s relationship, especially when it came to kylo. but i think there are some forgivable aspects to it for the sake of the new trio, and that’s why those executive decisions kind of Worked! this is, of course, for another discussion bc this is about the new trilogy.

leia IS known for being a general because part of her entire storyline revolves around it and the significance of it!!! which is why finn being made general just feels so... i don’t know! just completely disrespectful, to both him as a character, and to generals who are defined by this position (such as, hello!!!!! poe!!! poe fucking dameron!!!! a man raised by the resistance!!! a man who’s entire life and prior legacy was entirely dedicated to the resistance!!!! him being made general MEANT something). it’s like rubbing salt in the wound of the fact that finn has been discarded as the protagonist he was meant to be, the story, development and conclusion he never got, just to slap general on him and call it a day and then write about his actual development in a novel that 3/4ths of the ppl who watch the films will never read. 

and that's just the core story stuff!!! do NOT get me started on the general lore proposed in this shit. i’m talking about the force ghost nonsense and the convenience of some of the timing choices (rewriting the way death works in sw, claiming that rey “didn’t really die/wasn’t really dead” since she didn’t fade which in itself completely destroys the entire plot they were going for with the resurrection scene, the timing of the fades themselves bullshitted for “dramatic cinematic purposes”), the entire palpatine storyline, the bullshit with snoke and the lack of explanation, all these one-off characters that have the lore capacity of an overwatch character when instead they could have developed the ones that already existed and had the opportunity to be fleshed out and CARED about

the FACT that HUX (hux!!!!!!!!!) had a more interesting storyline in all three films with a total screentime of maybe 10 minutes than these one-offs whose only purpose is to stroke the cock of sw nostalgia seekers and lore aficionados. to make these characters so inaccessible that to fully appreciate them, fans have to dive into hundreds of different novels and comics and games and whatnot. like if you make it so that the Only way someone can experience a character’s full essence is by reading their wiki page then you’ve failed in creating them, in writing them, in including them, in using them, in whatever them. you’ve just failed as a creator.

and the ONLY reason hux got a reaction (a barebones reaction but a reaction nonetheless) out of me was because they essentially just turned him into phasma 2 which is SO telling of the climate of this trilogy.

it’s a recycled trilogy. that’s all it is. it’s a recycled series of films where tfa’s originality was completely entirely scrapped and ignored because rian wanted to write his personal fanfiction more than he wanted to continue the story he was given, and did everything he could to insert that whenever he could, and kennedy, of course, let him, because she realised giving herself indulging content other than fifty shades and radfem articles that she could jerk off to was more important than telling a critical story where its wonder and valuable, influential morals could’ve stayed in this generation’s minds for years to come.

if you want to watch tros just watch the prequel trilogy instead you'll get the same story except actually good.

[mandysimo13]

hey! you wanted those prompts. how about: "i don't want to be just friends"? (good omens/ineffable husbands, pls)

Ooooooooh yesssssssssss, @ina-k, you speakin’ my language!  This is now also a fic on AO3, so please be sure to pop a kudos or comment on it, lovelies! 

                                                      ///~\\\

Two weeks after the Apocalypse-that-Wasn’t, the Nope-pocalypse, the Armaged-dud, the Ragnar-Went-Wrong, two celestial beings found themselves in a familiar setting, in familiar bodies, feeling decidedly unfamiliar with a variety of new feelings. 

First and foremost was relief - relief that the world was, in fact, not over. Relief that there were still ducks to feed, crepes to eat, and plants to spritz and terrorize. 

Secondly there was a feeling of directionless. They had not so much mislaid their intended purposes as much as they yeeted them into the heavens whilst flipping the bird for good measure. For the first time, since the dawn of time, neither of them could feel the little niggling tug that told them to cause mischief and to spread grace. Doing either seemed to them like going through the well oiled and practiced motions of blessing and tempting and it made them wonder what the point of it all was. 

Third, and most surprisingly considering their shared aimlessness, was a sense of urgency. Like there would be another Gotcha! moment and that the armies they had pissed off would be back with a vengeance and that there wouldn’t be enough time. 

“Enough time for what” is a perfectly acceptable question and one that both angel and demon would rather not have to answer, though both answers would be the same. They both wanted desperately to find their courage and scream I love you, I chose you, stay with me, pick our side every day for the rest of existence, all you need to do is speak and your will be done by my hands. But, you see, courage is a tricky thing. It comes and goes unexpectedly, even though it comes in times when all the signs and motifs and themes and histories tell you to expect it. Courage came for them when they faced down Gabriel, Beelzebub, and Satan. It filled their ribcages with fire and moved their hands, making them feel about as powerful as when Herself created the whole world. But then it seeped out of them, slowly and then all at once, leaving them deflated, tired, and with an irony flavor in the back of their throats. 

Now, when courage was needed most sorely, it sat back with a glass of wine watching the scene unfold and wishing for popcorn. 

The scene, in question, was Aziraphale and Crowley sitting in the intimate and well loved back room of Aziraphale’s “bookshop”. More parlour than back room, it contained the things it had always contained, plus a few extras thanks to Adam and his reshuffling of the universe. Before the End-Times-that-Wasn’t, the angel and demon would sit close but separate, always on separate pieces of furniture but close enough to touch should the occasion call for it. But in the After the pair decided that since they had shared bodies perhaps they could share a couch. Backs leant up against the armrests, knees turned towards each other as they lounged thoroughly drunk on the choice wine of the evening, they conversed as they ever did. 

“I’m telling you, koalas are the most useless lump of fur on the damn planet,” Crowley exclaimed, gesticulating with his glass. 

Aziraphale tutted and made a swishy swat motion in the air to bat away the, to him, unfair comment. “They’re adorable creatures! What with their big noses and their soft fur-”

“Their rampant chlamydia, their toxic bodies from eating toxic leaves-”

“They don’t all have chlamydia,” Aziraphale, defended. 

Crowley scoffed, “enough of them do. And ya know, nothing eats them either!”

“Why would you want to eat a koala?”

“Exactly my point!” 

Aziraphale began to laugh at that, slinking further into the couch as his body shook with ridiculous mirth. His knees slid along the couch until they bumped up against Crowley’s (not that that meant anything, it was a rather small couch). Joy and drink making him comfortable, he was reluctant to remove himself from Crowley’s space. A quick glance saw that Crowley had relaxed further as well, joining him in laughter, and looked to be in no hurry to part their small connection. 

Giggles eventually turned into happy silence, renewed glasses of wine, and lingering looks over the tops of said glasses. 

Crowley, glasses firmly placed upon the bridge of his nose, looked his fill without exposure. He watched as Aziraphale’s face creased with his smile, perfectly angelic in appearance, radiating love and happiness in such amounts that even Crowley could feel it. 

It was said that demons were not meant to feel love, that they had lost the ability to feel love when they fell. The truth of it was that they were able to feel love but it was often drowned out by the forced feeling of the absence of love. Her love. The love of her creations. Her love permeated everything from the grass, the oceans, the people, even the fucking koalas - though they had a funny way of showing it by literally showering one with chlamydia. Crowley could feel the Absence so acutely in every stare from a human who could feel somewhere in their primordial makeup that he was meant to be unforgivable, unfathomable, unlovable. Since the invention of sunglasses things had been a bit better, he could sometimes shrug off that feeling for a time. When the one real tell of demonic-ness was hidden, it took longer for people to catch on. He knew the other demons mocked him for his glasses, for hiding away his traits, but he figured they were just jealous because it was easier to hide snake eyes than it was to hide a persistent cloud of flies and the inherent smell of poo. 

But when he looked at Aziraphale, especially after the End Times ended, love radiated so strongly that he thought that, maybe, he could be forgiven and thought and loved. But even with the evidence wafting about his being like waves on a shore, he second guessed it. Aziraphale was a being of love, he loved everyone and everything regardless of their deserving of it. Unlike his counterparts who got caught up in the bureaucracy of it all, all the “who’s what’s where’s when’s why’s and how’s”, Aziraphale did everything just because he knew that somewhere along the line his actions would give pleasure and happiness, and not just for himself. What may seem gluttonous in a plate of crepes was actually a desire to make sure a local creperie, run by a Senegalese couple, would stay in business despite the hike in rent. What may seem prideful in buying an extensive wardrobe was really a way to ensure that the true art of tailoring never died, that there was always someone ready to pass down the knowledge of the old traditions, even if the tone changed with the times. He knew that Aziraphale felt bad occasionally for his indulgences but, even if it wasn’t obviously to himself, Crowley could see the angelic intent behind it all. 

Which is why he couldn’t read too much into anything Aziraphale said or did around him. Sure, he was often prickly with him and had often insisted they weren’t friends, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He had been unfailingly kind to Crowley from the very beginning, raising his own wing to shield them both from the rain as they watched the first two humans trudge away from paradise. He knew that Aziraphale loved him but what did that really mean when he loved everything? 

So, instead of gathering courage to speak, to declare, to move towards something, he sat and watched the angel giggle to himself, cheeks red with joy and wine. 

He could watch that face forever.

Aziraphale finally caught him staring, his glasses slipped down his nose without his permission or notice, and his expression changed to something unbearably fond and concerned. “Is everything alright, dear?” 

Dear, his heart clenched at the old endearment. Slowly, hand shaking slightly, Crowley pushed his glasses up to where they belonged. “Why would it not be,” he asked. 

“You just...you seemed lost.” 

Lost in you, he didn’t say. Instead, he shrugged and took a sip of wine. “Seems like we’re both a little lost. Having no bosses, no one to answer to, no agendas, having freedom. It all seems to be a little overwhelming, no?” 

Understanding filled Aziraphale’s face and he sat up a little straighter. He scooted just a bit closer, unwilling to part their knees from each other for the time being. “It does, doesn’t it. I’ve never really considered the consequences of freedom. Always seemed like something for only Her mortal creations and not for us.” He looked at him openly, questioningly, “what does one do with freedom?”

Crowley licked his lips, eyes cast down towards his glass and missing how Aziraphale tracked the movement of his tongue. “I suppose it’s up to us to make our own agenda.” He looked up and smiled at him, hoping to bring back their easy, happy glow from before. “Can’t be harder than making our Own Side, can it?” He chuckled, hoping that would sell it and make Aziraphale smile once more. 

Instead, it made Aziraphale lean closer in curiosity. “What...what’s on your agenda, Crowley?” 

Blinking, immediately uncomfortable with the direction they were headed, Crowley leaned back as casually as he could. “What makes you think I have one?

Aziraphale smiled, then. “My dear boy, I have known you for over 6000 years. And if there’s one thing I do know about you is that you always have an agenda.” He huffed a brief chuckle and added, “even if you don’t have a plan for it yet.” 

If Crowley were being honest he would tell Aziraphale how his agenda included nothing other than walks through parks, holidays to wherever was warm and sunny and abundant with good food, talks of books and plants and frivolous topics, and doing all he could to make the angel keep choosing him, them, until God Herself chose to end the world. But he wasn’t planning on being honest so instead he asked him, “what is your agenda, then?” 

“To live,” Aziraphale said simply. “To really, truly live and enjoy all the things I’ve done, have yet to do, and yearn to do.” He smiled shyly then, shifting back a bit, and added, “I’d love for you to be there, too, Crowley.” 

Crowley’s eyelashes fluttered against the glasses pressed close to his face as his blinked rapidly in surprise. He hoped he wasn’t too drunk and unable to keep his face cool. “Really? You’d want me there with you on all your post-heaven adventures?” 

Aziraphale’s voice was full of excitement meaning to assure him. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends!” Then he said softer, love dripping from him, “the best of friends. Of course I would want you there.” 

Despite himself, Crowley’s eyes became wet with an unasked for wave of emotion. He felt a lump in his throat at that threatened to choke him, if breathing was at all necessary for him. Without stopping to think he said, “what if...” He hesitated, feeling that creep of something monumental happening between them. He felt that same creep when something told him to wake up the 18th century because Aziraphale was lonely. He felt it when Aziraphale had taken a leap he didn’t want to make, for his sake, and handed over that thermos full to the brim with his “insurance policy” and he had asked the angel to tell him how to repay the favor. He felt it when Aziraphale threatened to never speak to him again. 

Courage was back. Most rudely and inopportunely. There was no way to sober and restart the conversation and not lose the...something that was there and bubbling between them. Fuck. 

Aziraphale swallowed, his throat bobbing. Hesitantly, he repeated, prompting Crowley to finish his thought, “what if?” 

Fuck it. All or nothing, Anthony J. Crowley. Both feet, nose closed, hope for the best. “What if I don’t want to be just friends.” 

Aziraphale sucked in gasp, shock on his face and Crowley couldn’t help feel like he had fucked up royally. That he had ruined everything beyond repair and that he would spent the rest of damned eternity alone. His tears finally spilled over and ran down his cheeks and Aziraphale said a soft, gentle “oh” and Crowley felt like death would be less painful. 

Aziraphale reached out to his cheek and Crowley ducked his head, trying to avoid the contact. But backed against the couch and heavy with the weight of his confession, he was unable to move and Aziraphale closed a gap between them, palm coming to rest on Crowley’s cheek, his thumb brushing away the salt of his tears. 

He opened his mouth to say forget it, it’s stupid, I know I moved to fast, I’ll stop it, I’ll be good, good for you, I’ll give you all the room and space you need, just don’t forsake me, don’t leave me alone, but was stopped by a finger pressed to his lips. He opened his eyes to see the one being in 6000 years who had ever given a damn about him looking at him with awe and such overwhelming love that he physically hurt. Beneath his ribs his vestigial heart beat faster and he braced himself. For what, he couldn’t say. 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, voice shaky. The angel’s eyes watered as well, tears shining in the dim light and it made Crowley hurt even more to see what his words had done. 

He tried to lessen the pain for them both, “just-”

“No! Don’t say anything. Unless it’s to tell me only good. Don’t,” Aziraphale choked on his plea. He physically swallowed around the lump in his throat and begged, “don’t take it back.” 

“W-what?” 

Aziraphale sighed and gently placed his forehead against Crowley’s. “I thought that I was too slow. That I had made you wait so long you could not possibly ever want me that way. That my own cowardice, my pride, had gotten in the way of the one thing I want most in this world.” 

Crowley dropped the wine glass in his hands, caring not a whit for a stain that could be miracled away later, and clutched Aziraphale’s hands in his own. Trembling, not daring to believe, he asked, “what is it you want, Aziraphale?” 

“You,” he said confidently and without shame. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see it. To acknowledge it. To feel its rightness.” He kissed Crowley’s forehead, lips lingering. “I can’t undo all the hurt I’ve caused but...let me try?” 

Crowley tipped his head up to look at him and whispered, “oh, angel.” He pulled his glasses off, willfully sharing vulnerability, and said, “you have me. You always have. You could never lose me. Even if I had buggered off to Alpha Centuri all it would take is a snap of your fingers to bring me back. You have to know.” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale sighed. Then he chuckled wetly, “look at us. Blubbering like old fools.”

Crowley’s low laugh joined him. “We have been for a long time, angel.” 

“May I...” Aziraphale hesitated, though logically he needn’t have. “May I do something I’ve been wanting to do since approximately 1941?” 

“Anything.” 

“May I kiss you?”

“You’d better,” Crowley said, barely getting the words out before he had a lapful of angel and lips pressed blessedly to his own. 

Their first kiss was tinged with the salt of tears, first of sorrow then of relief. It was full of joy, thankfulness, and above all love. It seemed to go on forever, as if they were making up for lost time all at once. 

When it finally ended Crowley said, breathlessly, “I love you, angel.” 

“I love you too, Crowley.” 

Somehow they had ended up laying stretched out on the couch, Aziraphale atop Crowley while he snaked his arms around the angel’s middle like a vice. He stroked Aziraphale’s hair and asked, thinking of their previous conversation with a smile, “what else was on your agenda, angel?” 

Aziraphale giggled, nuzzling his face into Crowley’s shoulder. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“I would, indeed. Whatever you like, whenever you like, however you like. And,” he paused, tipping Aziraphale’s face up with a finger under his chin, “we can even start with dinner.” 

Aziraphale beamed at him. “That is an excellent place to start.” 

Slowly, they detangled themselves from the couch and each other, never moving too far out of reach. They righted their creased clothes, sobered themselves and made their way to the Ritz which, incidentally, had a miraculous cancellation. Much like their first meal together after they both quit their respective sides, the meal was delicious and the conversation easy. Only this time, it was filled with plans that included the pair of them. 

And for the second time in history, and this time heard by one lonely bum on a park bench, a nightingale sang in Berkley Square. 

[theliterateape]

The Cinema of 2019: A Literate Ape End-of-Year Review

By Don Hall and Brett Dworski

Editor’s Note:

With projects like Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Watchmen, The Mandalorian, and pretty much everything produced for the CW, we are smack dab in the epicenter of the Age of Fan Fiction. The films of 2019 have some nods to this trend with Joker, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and Yesterday playing hard and loose with expanding the existing iconography to tell new stories.

We enjoyed a lot of movies in 2019. While not a banner year like 1968 or 1999, the year certainly had its standouts. Here is our end of the year list of the films that impacted us the most compiled by Don Hall and Brett Dworski, both film fans and people with acceptable vision and hearing.

NOTE: These are not ranked because generally, we believe the practice of ranking films is fucking stupid. However, we do rate them from 1 to 5 Apes. Enjoy.

Apollo 11

4 Apes (DH)

There really was a time when America was great. Sure, there was still segregation and violence, the war overseas, the draft, and the host of problems faced by the country but the men and women who took up Kennedy’s challenge to get a human being on the surface of the moon elevated us all. Apollo 11 is a documentary using entirely archival footage of this historic moment when mankind exceeded itself.

Honey Boy

1 Ape (BD)

The anticipated debut of writer Shia LaBeouf is choppy and disappointing. Newcomer Noah Jupe plays child actor Otis—based on LaBeouf—whose drunken father disrupts his recent success. The film’s inconsistencies stem across the plot, casting and performances. The father, played by LaBeouf, flops between abusive asshole and tender daddy by the minute; neither is compelling. Lucas Hedges, who plays Otis as a drug-abusing teenager, looks nothing like LaBeouf or Jupe. And once things get interesting, Otis forgives his pop and tells him he’s “going to make a movie about him.” Very original, Shia. The fact that Honey Boy is based on LaBeouf’s life is intriguing, but the film is ultimately a huge letdown.

Midsommar

4 Apes (DH)

Ari Astor gives us a twisted break up story wrapped in the bloody flowered crown of a horror film set in blinding sunlight. I loved Hereditary for a million reasons. I loved Midsommar for five: Florence Pugh, the bizarre mating ritual, the fucked up mushroom visuals, old people willingly plunging to their deaths, and a dude being stuffed into the skin of a recently slaughtered bear and burned alive.

Dolemite Is My Name

3 Apes (BD)

Eddie Murphy rewinds the clock to his Raw and Delirious days in this biopic of Rudy Ray Moore, a comedian and musician behind the Blaxploitation movement of the 1970s. While wildly erratic at times, it’s also an affectionate and sobering look at the hustle of show business. It took years for Murphy to ditch his affable family-man routine, but it was worth the wait: Dolemite Is My Name cements the raunchy, cocksure comic as one of the greatest talents of all time.

Yesterday

3 Apes (DH)

I wrote about this here. Loved it.

The Lighthouse

3 Apes (BD)

Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe are exhilarating in this delirious indie thriller. They play 19th century lighthouse keepers who struggle to maintain their sanity upon learning they’re stuck on an island off the coast of New England. The stunning black and white landscapes of Nova Scotia are overshadowed by Dafoe’s and Pattinson’s constant bickering, farting, masturbating, and binge drinking. The Lighthouse is bizarre, hilarious, terrifying, peculiar… and quite good. You’ll never view seagulls the same way after watching it.

Endgame

5 Apes (DH)

The culmination of nearly two dozen interconnected films all stemming from my Gen X childhood? I’ve been waiting since I read my first Avengers comic when I was ten years old for this and it did not disappoint. Packed with incredibly satisfying moments (Professor Hulk, Cap gets the Hammer, “...on your left...,” and “I... am... Iron Man”) this was the most fun three hours I could imagine that didn’t involve cheese or sex.

The Art of Self Defense

4 Apes (BD)

This deadpan and absurdist comedy highlights toxic masculinity through a ruthless karate class. Jessie Eisenberg plays Casey, a lonely, frightened accountant who enlists in the course after a mugging leaves him hospitalized. Led by a vain and puzzling instructor, the class soon absorbs Casey’s life and brainwashes him to commit barbaric acts beyond self-protection. Although clearly a blend of Fight Club and The Karate Kid, The Art of Self Defense carries an unusual rhythm that separates it from its predecessors—and displays a refreshing kind of filmmaking from newcomer Riley Streams.

Joker

4 Apes (DH)

The politics that suddenly surrounded this were nothing more than distraction. Was it a response to the humorless Woke culture? An Incel Fantasy? Who gives a fuck. It was a film that did something a lot of movies lately refuse to do—it surprised us. It also included an amazing, painful performance by Joaquin Phoenix and, like Logan before it, used the pop culture iconography of the comic book tropes and deepened them in ways that only a bold approach could.

High Life

4 Apes (BD)

Visually-stunning cinematography and a harrowing storyline carry High Life, one of the most daunting films of the year. Set in a futuristic world where death-row inmates are sent to conduct eerie experiments in outer space, High Life is as morbid as it is alluring. The movie—which was made in 2018 but not released in theaters until 2019—resembles a space version of The Shining with its isolation-leads-to-madness concept. While too edgy for some, High Life is one of the most uniquely made films in years.

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

5 Apes (DH)

Tarantino’s homage to revisionist history, the plight of growing old and becoming replaceable, 1960s Hollywood, and chock full of snappy dialogue, incredible performances, and both a sense of celebration and melancholy makes this one of the best movies about movies ever made.

John Wick Chapter 3

5 Apes (DH)

With next year’s Keanu-mas when they release both John Wick 4 and the Matrix 4 movies on the same day (yes, I will participate fully) the franchise that spawned the newfound love for all things Reeves is absolutely worth noting. Full of that comic book/video game world-building, odd but sensible rituals and oaths and rules plus plenty of head-shot, bloody violence, I sat in a Las Vegas theater with a crowd and we all gasped, laughed, and applauded at the absolute action-porn that is John Wick. Yes, these films are pornography of comic book violence and Reeves is our big-dicked John Holmes.

The Painted Bird

5 Apes (BD)

Those seeking a feel good shan’t see The Painted Bird, a bloodcurdling Holocaust drama seen through the eyes of a child. Petr Kotlár gives a robust performance as a nameless boy fighting to survive the violent societal breakdown in Eastern Europe. In doing so, he experiences one nightmare after another—each worse than the former—and loses hope in human kindness along the way. The beautifully shot black-and-white landscapes are a mirage for the routine abuse the boy encounters, leaving audiences as numb to it as he is by the film’s end.

The Irishman

4 Apes (DH)

Scorsese caps a triptych of films over decades with this much slower but no less magnificent look into the Italian Mafia from the inside/out. Goodfellas is an Irish kid’s ascent and is an explosive young man’s movie. Casino is a Jewish man’s climb up in the Mob and, while still explosive, is a bit more subdued and a decidedly middle-aged man’s film. The Irishman is an old man’s view, looking back, reliving awful and magnificent moments.

Together, the three films mark a masterwork in a genius director’s canon.

Ad Astra

5 Apes (BD)

Ad Astra takes a different approach than most solar-system journeys by exploring the man behind the suit. Brad Pitt is Roy McBride, an accomplished astronaut whose dedication to space has damaged his marriage. When called upon for secret mission to Neptune, the stoic McBride finds he’s more than a government robot, and his ascent to madness results in one of Pitt’s finest performances. Supported by a wonderfully played asshole in Tommy Lee Jones, Ad Astra is as much a family drama as it is a space adventure.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

5 Apes (DH)

Sure, there were unanswered questions leftover and I really didn’t care for that kiss at the end but I loved this film from start to finish. Completing a story as massive and, in many ways, disconnected, was a tall order and I think Abrams and team did about as good a job as anyone could expect. This will be in rotation at least a couple more times in the next few weeks.

Marriage Story

5 Apes (BD)

Oscar-worthy performances from Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson drive Marriage Story, a clever, poignant narrative about divorce. Noah Baumbach’s behind-the-scenes view of the crippling situation separates it from movies alike, exploring factors beyond courtroom troubles and custody battles. Marriage Story empathetically—and even comically—shows both sides of the fight, and its effect will last far beyond the screen. Get your box of tissues ready.

Alita: Battle Angel

3 Apes (DH)

Not a Manga-Boy so the inconsistencies with the story and characters didn’t bother me. I thought this was the closest to watching a dramatic video game with some cool performances and great use of camera and technology. It was also the film I saw first as a resident of Las Vegas so that counts for something at least to me.

Parasite

5 Apes (BD)

Superbly written, shot and performed, Bong Joon-ho’s account of class discrimination in Korea is an electrifying and emotional masterpiece. What begins as a lighthearted story of two families—one rich, one destitute—spirals into shocking sequences of deception. It has every element of an instant classic: witty comedy, sexual tension, thrilling violence, social themes and a stunning finale that mirrors the horrors of reality. Calling it the best movie of 2019 isn’t enough: Parasite is one of the top films of the decade and transcends the arc of modern cinema.