#more than you thought possible. but some days‚ you cannot tell fiction from reality so you ask the love of your life‚ you love me.

[malinaa]

if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing

[morgana-ren]

utterly lack critical thinking or comprehension and couldn't understand nuance or perspective if you gave them baby's first homework assignment on it

This. This so hard. And its always us that are wrong for blocking them or even god forbid trying to explain. I'm 34, my blog is full of dark content and it's so creepy and worrying to having kids following! I end up going through a blog check every week

I want to say thank you to everyone who has messaged me and pointed out the minors in my follows when I might've missed them. Some of them try to hide, others are unabashed, but all of them get blocked.

The ones that see this and snidely think I have missed them, the damage is on your head. I'm sorry, but that's the reality of it. If you lie to me, or hide yourself, there is quite literally nothing I can do. My responsibility over your life ends there.

Thing is, I remember being that age. I remember being a child and trying to worm my way into adult spaces. All my life, I had been told I was so mature for my age, and that I was an 'old soul.' I was "different" from other children; I could handle it. I understood 'more than they did.' I was smart and clever and everyone around me made a point to impress that on me, and I believed it.

I thought I could handle it, and I didn't learn for many years until after the damage had already been done.

Children are headstrong and stubborn, but they are also foolish and unlearned and have no experience. They haven't been alive long enough to realize this yet, though, and it isn't their fault. That is something that comes with age. They do not understand the depths of damage that they can cause to themselves or others. They do not understand that most people who tell you how 'smart you are' or how you're 'mature' for your age are usually out to manipulate you. They do not know how to engage in these spaces in a safe manner because it simply isn't possible.

They do not understand, and they do not care to. Children are selfish. It's not meant as an insult. Really. It's just part of growing up. It's why they invite themselves into adult spaces despite being told they are not wanted. Their viewpoints are correct and true and they are right and you're just a boomer. You don't get it.

They are still developing. Still learning. Still growing. They literally do not understand because they have no way to. They think that they can handle it because they have no reason to believe that they cannot. They do not have the life experience or wisdom that comes with that experience.

They do not know how to engage these fandoms, which is why you will find them arguing their viewpoints when no one has asked or starting fights over different characters or plotlines they don't like. They don't have the experience to be able to understand nuance or storytelling and a great many other things. It's usually children that are spearheading the 'fiction equals reality' movement because they are, and forgive me for saying this, but too foolish to fully grasp what they are saying and the long reaching implications and consequences of it. They are children in mind and body, no matter how desperately they don't want to be.

They demand to be accepted into adult spaces, and then demand to be protected by the adults in those fandoms who do not want them there (which, in my experience, is a relatively new phenomenon) despite the fact that it is not possible because the source fucking material was not made with you in mind. They engage in smut writing and violence and other themes that their brains cannot fully comprehend beyond an initial understanding of what the content is. They do not understand that they are causing damage with their presence. They are causing damage to themselves and others and the community at large.

They don't care. They have no reason to.

They don't care if they are putting you in danger. They do not care if they are putting themselves in danger. They do not care.

At the end of the day, there is only so much that we can do. We can try and explain it. We can tell them. We can try to appeal to the little bit of empathy they have developed. We can explain things as nicely as possible and hope that they see reason in our words. We can give them our personal experiences and our hardships and plead with them not to tread the same path. But most of the time, they will not listen. They believe they are different and special, and they won't learn for many, many years that they are not.

They cannot grasp this concept, so needless to say, it is entirely pointless to try and explain to them why they might be a bit too naive to engage with certain fiction. Why their ideas on characters and stories might be a bit underdeveloped and ridiculous. They get angry and lash out. They demand respect but do not give it. They demand protection and yet put everyone at risk.

It's not their fault, in a way. They don't understand. They can't. It's why we do what we can to keep them out.

I am genuinely sorry that their parents and the world around them has failed them. I am sorry that they are freely allowed to attempt to engage in things they do not have the ability to understand yet. I am. It's not their fault. They don't understand. How could they?

They can be angry at us all they'd like. They can lash out and throw tantrums, because it's all they know how to do. They can say how wrong we are and that we're old and the other arsenal of insults they like to throw out. They can set out to prove us wrong while ultimately proving our point.

I'm not trying to be an ass, here. I'm really not.

That being said, it's not fair to us either. Like you said, we end up in catfights with kids and we're the bad guys for engaging, we're the bad guys for blocking, we're the bad guys and get dogpiled even though what in the hells would you have us do? We cannot ignore them, clearly. But in their eyes, they're right and we're wrong and that's that. They don't understand. They can't.

We can put warnings and DNIs, we can actively block children that meander into our spaces thoughtlessly, we can try to protect ourselves. Being the bad guy to a thirteen-year-old is a small price to pay for trying to keep them safe, even as they hate it.

But again, there is only so much we can do.

I feel horrible for the creators that are experiencing the deaths of their creations because of this. Influxes of children in their space that make them feel like bad people for simply creating because there is nothing they can do. It's miserable and frustrating and ultimately, you have no choice but to either kill your own creation or be called a horrible person for persisting even though you have no control over who engages. To be called a bad person for engaging in fiction because children don't understand it or the reasons one might do so. I feel horrible for children who are ruining their future psyche and mental state because they don't understand. It's a horrible situation all around.

We do what we can. And we'll keep doing what we can. We will protect them even as they hate it. But there is literally only so much you can do. What do you want an adult creator to do when someone else posts their content on tiktok and attracts hordes of teenagers who are naive? What do you want them to do when children ignore the warnings on AO3? What do you want them to do when children follow them and they lie about their age?

It sucks. It's a genuinely miserable situation all around. All we can hope for is that children, in their own little way, will grow up and stay out of spaces not meant for them. It won't happen, most of the time. But we can dream.

[iamanartichoke]

People argue about what even is canon in the first place anyway. Even the starting point can't be agreed upon.

Including the 2nd ask bc I'm assuming they're from the same nonny? (pfft like more than one person would send me asks in one day lmao)

Anyway ... I mean, I'm mostly ambivalent on the first point re: people disagreeing over canon, bc ... like, idek where to start on all the shit that I could say about fans' relationship to and interaction with canon or even what canon technically is, like, by definition (and therefore what even qualifies as canon).

But I did want to address the second point bc I think it's a good opportunity to just sort of toss this hot take into the void: "Stating that fiction is subjective will ruffle some people's feathers at the minute" - so what? So. What. Fiction is subjective, all art is subjective, and that's something that is true, has been true, and will be true regardless of some fans' decision to just decide that things don't work that way.

They can get their feathers ruffled as much as they like, but people need to learn that their personal emotions and feelings about A Thing don't mean that they can just decide that That Thing is suddenly something else (or decide something else is suddenly That Thing). It's just like how words like gaslighting and narcissistic and abusive and torture and trigger have become so diluted bc people a) don't actually understand what gaslighting, for example, is, and therefore cannot possibly call it out with any real degree of accuracy, so they just end up throwing a really weighted term at something as basic, human, and everyday as telling a lie. Or an emotional argument becomes abuse, or being squicked by something makes it a trigger.

OR, on the opposite side of the coin, b) maybe they actually do know what gaslighting or abuse is, but then they will categorize anything that remotely falls within the realm of the same definition as being gaslighting or abuse. I, personally, for example, really hate the way that some people claim Mobius tortures and enslaves Loki. It drives me up the wall when I see those takes because - okay, are these terms technically correct? Yeah, technically, which is what they use to justify it - "Well, this source defines "torture" as xyz, and Mobius is clearly doing z, so Mobius is a torturer." But words mean shit, so are you really asking me to accept that Mobius tortured Loki just as Thanos tortured Loki? Yes? Okay, how? No? Okay, why not?

Here's the thing - Mobius never laid a hand on Loki, nor did he sadistically, literally play with Loki's mind. Remember, Loki was being influenced by the mind stone in Avengers and the Other had a constant connection to Loki's consciousness. Thanos (and the Other) tortured Loki. Mobius ... was mean to him during an interrogation and also lied about Loki being responsible for Frigga's death (and I've said it before, Mobius was being an unreliable narrator in this scene and anyone who believes - because of Mobius - that Loki actually killed Frigga is both factually wrong and also an idiot). Like, Mobius is shitty to Loki but Thanos is torturous to Loki. The two are not the same, regardless of how they may technically be defined. By calling the former torture, consistently, bc his behavior meets some arbitrary technical definition, you're actively diluting the word bc you feel like its weight lends credibility to your argument that Mobius sucks.

... I got off-topic for a second there, I'm sorry. But back to my point: fiction is subjective and I don't care whose feathers I ruffle by saying that. It's true, and acting like it's not so that you can feel like you have the "right" interpretation of the character (thus giving you personal validation which, I'm sorry to say, the Emperor thought that he was wearing fabulous new clothes but that didn't change the reality that he was butt ass naked) is just ... *gesticulates wildly bc words fail me* shitty.

[ybangtannies]

Hiii💜💜💜i just want to start off by saying i love your blog, your stories are really good. I just got through reading the bts profiles and i don't know if you are taking request but if you are i was wondering if you could do a scenario where yandere namjoon and y/n are best friends and one night he comes over and they end up doing it, but the next morning they just joke around because it was a mistake and they are good friends, then two weeks later she calls him tells him she is pregnant, and namjoon try to talk to her about keeping the baby because he secretly love y/n and is crazy about her.

[Here it is! I'm sorry it took me months to write this, but I hope you enjoy it! I got a little carried away and it's way longer than what I intended to be lol]

Masterlist

Word count: 2.7k

Namjoon’s eyes open wide suddenly, and frantically starts looking for your figure, and even though he doesn’t find it, he knows you’re around and awake because he can hear the shower from your en suite bathroom. He lets out a sigh and savours the memories coming to him from last night, your moans and whimpers, how good he felt being completely embraced by you and your scent; every single detail about last night and you both enjoying and pleasuring each other is engraved in Namjoon’s mind.

He knows you usually take around fifteen or twenty minutes in the shower, so he relaxes on the bed and starts thinking. What does this mean for your relationship? It surely changes everything, right? This must mean that you love him too. He knows you used to sleep around -much to his dismay, he still doesn’t understand how he put up with it, maybe because it was just sex with strangers and you made it pretty clear you wanted nothing with them- but it’s been a long time since that and if you decided you wanted Namjoon, your best friend, someone you clearly know and have already a bond formed with, to be the person you had sex with after such a long period of time, then there must be a reason behind it. Maybe you weren’t sure on how to tell him you love him too for fear of being rejected and thought sex would be the way to let him know without words? Namjoon smiles at the thought, his sweet and pretty girl, if only you knew how crazy in love he is about you. He’s been waiting for this to happen for way too long, have imagined it millions of times but reality surely does exceed fiction and now that he got a taste of what it would be really like to be with you like this, he doesn’t think he’d be able to give up this feeling for anything in the world; there’s no way, he would be insane to turn down his other half.

His stream of consciousness is cut off by the door of your bathroom opening and your figure emerging from it, you stand on the threshold and look at him with surprise.

“Oh, good morning! I didn’t think you’d be awake already, it’s pretty early and you always sleep until it’s almost lunchtime” you chuckle while entering the room, going to lift up the blind and open the window a little.

Namjoon is looking at you in awe, you’re not wearing anything he hasn’t seen on you before -a shirt and some worn out shorts- but he can perfectly see the hickeys he gave you last night on your neck since you’re wearing your hair on a side plait plus you’re still yawning even if it’s been surely more than half an hour since you woke up and adding that to the fact that now he is your boyfriend... he wonders if you’d be up for round two before having breakfast.

“Hello? Earth to Namjoon! Are you sleeping with your eyes open again or what?” Your voice is once again bringing him back to reality, your glance focused on your phone rather than on him.

“No, no, sorry, I guess I’m still a little tired. What’s up?”

You roll your eyes playfully while looking back at him, “I was asking if you wanted to have breakfast now, but you can keep sleeping if you want, I have things to do anyways.”

Namjoon accepts your offer and accompanies you to the kitchen to make breakfast; he loves how he knows his way around your apartment and how domestic it feels waking up together after having been making love all night to have breakfast and spend the morning at home, like a long-term couple.

He is about to open his mouth and address the elephant in the room once you’re both seated at your table and drinking coffee when you beat him to it.

“So, I don’t want to make things weird after last night and I don’t really think this need to be said since we’ve been friends for quite some time now and already know each other and where we stand,” Namjoon doesn’t like where this seems to be going, “the sex was really good and I think we both needed it after the stress from college but -and don’t get me wrong please- I don’t think it’s a good idea to make it something common, you know?”

Nope, Namjoon is hating this. He is quite lost, what is happening right here? What do you mean you don’t want to have sex with him anymore? Are you already breaking up with him? And what do you mean by ‘making things weird’ and ‘we’ve been friends’? What the fuck are you even talking about? Is he still sleeping? Is this one of his nightmares? That must be it, a nightmare, the worst he’s had so far.

You must sense his confusion because you chuckle a little and even blush; Namjoon wants to smile at the sight, you just look way too cute, but your words have him very confused right now.

“The sex was good, really! Amazing even, Joonie! All I’m saying is that we both know each other too much to have a friends-with-benefits relationship without fucking it up -no pun intended by the way” you laugh again lightly while sipping from your mug and grabbing a toast from the plate in between you both.

Namjoon is really thrown back by your behaviour but as much as he’d like to talk back and confess how ardently he loves you, he realises maybe now is not the right time; he is already sure about his feelings for you and what he wants but you don’t seem to be on the same page just yet and he, being the gentleman he like to think he is, will of course give you some time to figure out your feelings for him. Because of course you must be in love with him too, but maybe you’re more stubborn than he thought you to be and preferred to think your feelings for him were only of lust and not love. It’s okay, you’ll come to your senses and if not, he’ll help you find the right way to his side.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t worry about it, y/n. I know what you mean.”

Days goes by, then weeks and before Namjoon realises it’s been almost a month since that beautiful and extraordinary night he revives almost every day in the solitude of his room. It’s during one of those moments when he is remembering the way your voice sounded asking him for more, to please don’t stop thrusting into your tight and velvety walls and he is about to climax, saying your name like a mantra, that his phone starts vibrating making him jump on his bed and let out a groan, who the fuck? He is tempted to ignore it, too occupied with his hard and leaking cock on his hand to bother with answering the annoying prick that is calling him right in this moment, but then he takes a glance of your name on the screen and it’s physically impossible for him to ignore you. Namjoon sighs and tries to even his breathing and even covers his naked body with the sheet of his bed even though it’s just a regular call.

“Hello, babe, what’s up?”

“Namjoon,” uh oh, you’re using his full name plus your tone is way too plain, this cannot be good, “are you busy right now?”

He looks down at his now less hard cock and shakes his head slowly, “not at all, why? Do you need something?”

“Could you please come over?” Namjoon is already out of his bed and looking for his underwear and clothes, he doesn’t need for you to give him more details about wanting him to go to your house, but he still asks.

“Sure thing, but is something the matter? You sound serious”

A silence follows his question and Namjoon stops his movements altogether, looking straight to the wall with a frown adorning his face, “y/n? Is everything okay?”

“Just… please, come quickly, okay? I need to tell you something.”

He is about to interrogate you a little more or even ask if he needs to bring you something, but you don’t give him time and hang up just as you finish speaking. He looks at his phone with a deeper frown now and hurries up out of his house and into his car.

Namjoon arrives in record time, he’s been thinking about what could have possibly happened for you to be that dry on the phone; yesterday evening when he last saw you everything was okay, and even this morning you sent him an audio telling him how excited you were because the books you bought online finally arrived and were going to start reading them. So, what happened?

You open the door as soon as he rings the bell and without any words, sign for him to come inside. Namjoon observes your attire: sweatpants, a Superman t-shirt and your part of your hair is on a cute little bun, you look adorable and if it weren’t for the frown on your face and your apparent inability to look him in the eye, Namjoon would be cooing internally at you.

“What is happening, y/n? You’re making me worried,” he is now sitting next to you on the sofa in the little living room of your apartment.

You sigh for what seems to be the tenth time since Namjoon got here and start fidgeting with your fingers, “I don’t know how this happened… well, I know how it happened, but I don’t know how we both could be so irresponsible…”

“What happened? What did we do?” Namjoon is more nervous with each passing second, several scenarios running through his mind.

“I’m pregnant”, you guess the best way to tell him is by just doing it at once, to rip off the band aid.

A few moments of silence follow after your words, nothing can be heard, and it feels as if the world has completely stopped. You look at him cautiously and find Namjoon looking at you with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth like he was a fish. The image is funny, cute even, and you would have laughed have it not been a moment like this.

“What?” It’s the only thing that Namjoon manages to say, he’s not sure he heard you right and doesn’t want to get his hopes up like he did before, just in case.

You mumble a little ‘wait here’ and leave the room, in the direction of your bedroom. Before he can decide if he should follow you or not, you’re back with several sticks on your hands. Your face doesn’t show the same worrisome it did when Namjoon first got here but the frown is still present, and he has to physically restrain himself from softening it and give you a kiss on the forehead.

“Here, these are the pregnancy tests. I went out this morning to get them, they’re all positive. I’m three weeks pregnant, Namjoon.”

He takes them and indeed, they all show two lines, one of them even stating what you just said: 3 weeks pregnant.

“This… this is…” Namjoon is trying to find the words to describe how he’s feeling right now; he wants to cry, to scream, to jump, but overall, he wants to hug you and kiss you silly. He is going to be a dad! And you’re the one carrying his children! He could marry you on the stop. Actually, he should start looking for rings and think about a proposal. Would you prefer to wait until you give birth? Or maybe you’d like to do it quickly before your tummy starts showing. Either way, Namjoon doesn’t mind, that’s your decision to make.

“I know it’s not ideal, don’t worry. I’m going to start looking for abortion clinics today, I want to get rid of it as soon as possible. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, I think we should both pay it since, you know, we both did it.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing, ‘abortion clinics’, ‘get rid of it’?

“We’re not gonna keep it. I’m not gonna have it, Namjoon.”

You are both standing now in the middle of your living room, looking at each other, both with a surprised look in your eyes albeit for very different reasons.

“Why not? I want to be a dad; I want to keep the baby.”

“What? Since when you want to be a father?”

“Since always?” Namjoon is trying not to raise his voice and keep his cool, he doesn’t want to upset himself more than he already is and doesn’t want to upset you either, that wouldn’t do your children any good.

You scoff and roll your eyes at his answer, “you don’t have time for that. You barely have time to eat with how busy you are with college; how do you plan on making time for a baby? You surely won’t drop college; how would you find a job then? Look, if you don’t want to pay for it that’s okay, I can afford it, it’s no biggie”

“It’s not about the money, y/n. I don’t want you to abort our baby because I want to have it with you. I’ll make time for it, we have nine months to figure it out, okay? We’ll both see how we can manage it. Maybe next year I can take fewer classes at college, and you could stop your studies for a year until the baby is old enough to leave them in a nursery without too many problems. Let’s just focus on celebrating and making an appointment with your doctor, darling, don’t worry too much” Namjoon is making his way to hug you and finally kiss you, but you take a few steps back looking at him with wide eyes, as if what he has been saying is insane.

“What the fuck? What the fuck am I supposed to be celebrating? I don’t want to be a mother; you know that I’ve told you several times before. Once I get a fucking abortion it’s when I’ll be celebrating. Look, I’m sorry if you want to be a father right now, but I don’t and I’m not gonna do it.”

Namjoon is starting to get angrier with the moment, he doesn’t understand why you have to be so stubborn. Surely, you’ve told him before about your reticence towards being a mother and how you’d rather abort if you were to ever get pregnant, but he always thought you were saying that referring to carrying the children of another person, not his.

“There’s no need for that, baby, if you just…”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Namjoon! My word is final: I’m having an abortion whether you like it or not. Now leave, please”

That’s it.

He snaps.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re not fucking getting an abortion, and that’s final. Do you understand? You’re gonna carry my children and this is just going to be the first of many to come so you better get used to the idea, is that clear, baby? I gave you enough time to fucking figure out your feelings for me, but this is way too much, I’m not gonna let you murder our children just because you are way too stubborn to realise, you’re in love with me. Now stop fucking talking nonsense before I made you myself.”

With each word that abandoned Namjoon’s mouth he got closer and closer to you until he had you trapped against the wall. You’re looking at him with horror in your eyes and his chest is heaving. He raises his hand, and you flinch and close your eyes, a yelp escaping from your mouth, but the hit never comes. Instead, you feel his fingers on your stomach softly while his other hand goes after your neck in order to bring you closer to his body.

“We’ll be okay, baby. I get that you’re nervous, but we’ll figure everything out and be the best parents to our children.” His words are disturbing, but what scares you the most is the smile on his face and how his eyes are shining with excitement and utter happiness, as if just a moment ago he wasn’t screaming and threatening you. Namjoon is finally able to give you a kiss on the forehead and you can’t do anything but stay still and feel tears falling down your face.

[defdaily]

Arena Homme+ Magazine September 2021 issue featuring JAY B: Nature, Dreams and Music

Translated by defdaily.

That day, JAY B’s world was filled with grass that came up to his knees, sunset that briefly peeked through the dark clouds, and ghosts of the silent campsite. Insects flew about in the intimate conversation of creation, dreams, and the future. An interview with JAY B amidst the passing seasons.

So you are working on an album?

The album is almost finished. I couldn’t release it at the beginning of the year, so I’m releasing it now in the second half of the year. I’m thinking of preparing things early on for next time so [we] are preparing for the production of another album.

There was a big change this year, you moved from JYP Entertainment to H1GHR MUSIC, right? What did you expect before becoming a part of H1GHR MUSIC?

At first I was worried. and was concerned over what to do if I couldn’t adapt. My goal for this year was to adapt to the agency and its artists, but everyone has made me feel comfortable. I thought I would have to do a lot of adjusting to the new agency staff, but I was surprised by how understanding they were of the system I had experienced. The way there has been no problem in our communication has far exceeded my expectations. Things are flowing smoothly.

It must feel like a fresh start. You must be looking forward to getting to do what you couldn’t do previously, but on the other side you must also have hopes to learn more. Is there anyone that could provide you with blunt advice?

I’m not the demanding type. And I have never strongly demanded anything from the company either. But that doesn’t mean I accept anything the company makes and provides me. The difference is that my opinion is reflected in my work more than before. If I was going to lead everything at work, there would have been no need to join an agency. Joining the agency means communicating with their staff. I also think we should listen to other people's opinions a lot. And you have to give feedback too, of course. I am working well with the company. Be it a push or advice as help, I learnt a lot from my previous company. Since I have learnt a lot from there, I should trust myself a little more now. I try to relay what I know and learn about things I’m not knowledgeable of. I rely on Jay Bum hyung a lot. I contact him right away when there’s something I don’t know, and we have a lot of conversations.

Is it important that an artist is stubborn? Do you feel the need to emphasise your own music and personality?

Artists have different personalities, just as people have different preferences. I don't want to diss an artist who is stubborn, nor do I want to tell anyone who isn’t stubborn that they are not an artist. I acknowledge everyone. I, personally, want to express the way I live. I like making music. An artist should be clear about what they want to do. Whether it be to become a star, or to express themselves through music or to earn money, it has to be clear.

What is your clear stance as an artist?

Whether it’s fiction or reality, I want to make stories. I’m the type that wants to tell a story. It was like that too in my GOT7 days. I believe one should create and establish their own path in life. I think that's fun. It's hard, but it's worth it. It adds more meaning to my job and I think it becomes more valuable. If I didn't do it myself, I would feel less attached to it.

There’s nothing more fun than one’s own work. Showing your work and waiting for the response must also be thrilling.

Exactly. I love hearing that my music is good. I’m very shy so I cannot express it very well but I’m very thankful and proud too. And it reassures me that I’m not going down the wrong path.

It does feel like all the hard times disappear when you hear good feedback. But feedback isn’t always good. There are even people who avoid them because of fear of criticism.

To be honest, when it comes to unpleasant feedback, it kind of makes me feel… “ouch!” But I accept it because it is still an evaluation. It also gives me a boost. It’s fun.

You are a solo artist now. Do you feel a burden or pressure?

I don’t feel pressured, but I do feel the burden. I joined H1GHR MUSIC and I feel a sense of belonging. I gain something from this company, but I think this company should gain something from me, too. I have worries about things like whether I’ll be able to benefit the company or not. I feel slightly uneasy about possibly not meeting expectations too.

You feel a sense of responsibility.

There's always a reason and a purpose to start anything. Everyone starts music because they like it, and if they start, there must be music they want to make. So if there is criticism, one would feel down, but if the final product is good, the people that worked on it would feel good. That’s what I hope for.

You uploaded a bunch of your Def. songs onto your YouTube channel. There was quite a lot. Are you the prolific type?

I used to be but… I guess I’m still the type to make many songs. (Laughs). But compared to back then, my production has decreased a lot. My stamina can’t keep up. (Laughs). I used to be able to start and finish working on a song at dawn and when I felt like I could do more, I made more. Nowadays, even when I’m working on only one song, not only is it hard for my body, but I also feel drained so I can’t make many songs.

Isn’t it really fast to make even one song at dawn?

Ah, that’s true. I used to work like that three or four times a week, but now I work once or twice a week. Come to think of it, I don't think I'm the prolific type anymore.

Being able to make a lot of things means you have a lot of ideas.

Having run out of ideas is also a reason for having less work done. There are five mixtapes I’ve uploaded onto YouTube with four to five tracks each. At the time, I not only worked on those but music for GOT7 too. After hustling so hard, I feel like I’ve run out of material. I look around wondering where to find inspiration. When I finish making the melody and want to write lyrics, I feel lost.

In order to be prepared for those situations, creators keep a collection of material. How do you collect resources?

I often read or use my imagination. These days, I often put myself in others’ shoes. When watching a movie, one would empathize with the protagonist. It’s only natural since the plot revolves around them. But I would pay attention to the supporting roles or passerbys in the background and think about the story from their point of view. I would think about what I would do if I heard those words and if I were in that situation. I also pay close attention to any words that might be a good source of inspiration. In the past I would focus on how the plot developed, but now I look at the words that the author uses repeatedly. When I think of any useful words or ideas, I jot them down.

Observing the supporting roles instead of the central narrative is such a novel idea.

I suddenly thought of it while watching a movie at home. The protagonist had said some harsh and rude words to a supporting role. It was something like “Get out of my way.” I thought “How would it have felt to be the one moving out of their way? What would they feel?” These were the thoughts I had.

Has anyone told you that you have a unique perspective?

I’ve often heard that my personality is very unique.

People can say they don’t like something despite others saying they like it. That could come off as unique and fresh ideas come from an uncommon perspective too.

I think it’s 50/50. There are times when something might not feel like much for me while others like it, and times when everyone else seems quite indifferent while I like it. A song I recently liked the idea of is “Smile, Wait for the Flash” by Giriboy where he used the ‘kacha’ shutter sound as gunfire. Using ‘kacha’ like a gunfire as a metaphor for wrapping up your feelings after a breakup was a refreshing idea. It was great.

Do you also often use your instincts?

I try hard to. I don’t naturally use my instincts, but I try to look at things through a different lens. I tend to have random thoughts, and I had one today during the shoot too. This is a camping site, but there was no one camping. So I imagined how it would look when full of people moving about. Also during the shoot, there was a long blade of grass under my feet on a field of grass. I should have avoided it but I accidentally stepped on it. I felt sorry for the grass that got stepped on and out of instinct I said “sorry…”

Seems like you have keen sensibility.

I wish I could be sensible. I’m too cautious to say that I am sensible, though.

I think you would be considered a sensible person because you make music. But I noticed that the comments are disabled for Def.’s mixtapes on YouTube.

The songs that I make under “Def.” are 100% music that I personally wanted to make. I didn’t want to receive feedback, so I disabled the comments. If I release an album under “Def.” in the future, I probably won't be able to disable the comments. I don’t know. The reason I have disabled the comments is because I don’t want to see any praise nor criticism. I don’t look at the comments for my SoundCloud tracks either. Because they’re very personal projects, I’m worried I could be swayed by it so I don’t look at it on purpose. I don’t want to be swayed by anything when it comes to my personal projects. I guess that’s my way of being stubborn.

So it sounds like you’re saying the songs that are made under the name Def. are like a part of you. I can feel your sincerity towards your music.

I would pretend to be indifferent to evaluations, but I’m really scared of receiving negative comments. Not the criticism but I’m scared to look at comments that decide something as ‘not good.’ If they say that it’s not their style, then it’s just personal preference. There may not be songs that match their preference within my discography. But it’s difficult for me to hear people say ‘this is not good, bad, or meh.’ After all, those songs came from me and are like my children.

I remember many tracks with gentle melodies and discovered JAY B’s delicate side. Is this surprising to hear?

This is the first time I’ve been called delicate. I do have several sensitive/vibey songs. I want to try something like a pop, hip-hop, or smug and cocky vibe but I’m not good at that. I don’t think it’s my personality.

What is considered a good melody to you?

Something that feels good at the first listen. My music taste has been so diverse recently that even when I talk to my friends about music, the songs that we all like are different. It’s hard to reach a consensus. In the creator’s perspective, even if something doesn’t sound good to others but it does to the creator, I consider that to be a good melody. I used to stress over how to write a good melody, how to sing it, and if the company would like it. As I move on step by step, I found a standard where at least the melody should sound good enough to me to not abandon the song since everyone has different preferences.

Personal preferences are important but it must be an important job to cater to the general public too. No, I mean, a difficult job.

That’s right. I think I still lack the ability to create melodies that the general public would like. I will have to learn step by step. One thing I feel is that there must be a part that sticks. I can’t exactly describe what type of melody it would be, but to set a minimum standard, it would be ‘a melody that I’m satisfied with. If it’s one that I’m not satisfied with but the public likes, I should follow that.

Do you tend to use many tracks when making music? There’s lot of songs these days that use dozens of layers of tracks.

We used a lot of harmonies with GOT7. Because there were so many harmonies, there was a crazy number of tracks too. These days, I try to be minimal and reduce harmonies. I don’t layer many tracks. I usually have the main track with a few harmonies and some adlibs.

K-Pop in particular mixes many genres and harmonies to create complex music. They are very flashy. What do you think of this phenomenon as someone who prefers to be minimal?

I see it as a good thing, because it means that the general public’s preference is expanding to a variety. It’s rather better. Of course, the basics are also important and I do feel the necessity to study them but we also need to agree with change. We should accept change. Who knows, I might grow old to be someone that can’t accept change and wonder, ‘what kind of music is this?’ But I feel that now is a time to open our eyes to change. When I find that a song is difficult to listen to, I will purposely listen to it repeatedly.

It’s been 10 years since you’ve debuted. How much have you changed over these 10 years?

In the past I was ambitious and had high expectations, but now I am more relaxed. With age, I think my sensitive side is becoming more and more dull. When I let go of some desires, I get to be accepting of more things. The scope of my activities also seems to have widened. I used to have a stubborn side to me in the past. Now I’m like ‘don’t expect too much, don’t anticipate too much,’ just do my job diligently!

There are many artists that use other creative hobbies to ease the burdens of their main job. What do you do to cope with your fuel for creativity?

My hobby is photography so I take many photos. I also learned how to draw at one point but nowadays, I don’t have time to draw since I’m busy. I also make records of things often. I write down my thoughts, even useless things. I also use an audio recorder to record my mood, thoughts, and things I’m currently doing. I also write letters to my future self. Things like ‘this is why I’m struggling, this is what would be good for me now but how it would be for my future self?’ Wondering what I will be thinking about and what I would look like. I write letters to myself about stuff like that. I put them in envelopes according to the year and on the envelope I write down the year the letter was written.

So It’s like an archive of your time. Writing, journaling, letters, photos, music, it’s interesting. A very organised way of saving your thoughts to not lose them. Having said that, is there anyone else you would like to show your records to besides your future self?

Ah! I can’t show this to people. They’ll cringe. (Laughs) It’s sort of embarrassing. I can show the photos to everyone but I want to keep voice messages to myself. I hope that when I am older, I can look at them as I laugh and reminisce about my life. They’re records for myself.

Do you also record everyday life in any way?

I record when I find it interesting the way I thought about something. Even looking at my journal from last year or the year before, my thoughts were different from now. I find it intriguing to see the way people can change like this. I think I tend to have many thoughts, so I record them every day.

From the position of a creator, I guess journaling can be seen as an activity to collect one’s senses and emotions to use them as material for inspiration.

That’s right. My brain isn’t good enough for me to remember everything. There are situations when I recall a memory and decide I could write this down.

What was the most fun thing you did lately?

It’s a bit dangerous, but it was when I rode around on my motorcycle with my friend. There was suddenly a heavy downpour. Since I needed to go home, I rode the motorcycle in the rain. I was completely soaked when I got home. The journey home was super difficult, but I was fortunate enough to not have suffered any injuries. It was a completely new experience so it was very fun. I don’t want to experience it again but it felt like an adventure.

Wearing the Burberry 2021 F/W collection in the pictorial today must also be a new experience. Slightly different from the refined and classic Burberry, the collection shows a lot of change. What were your usual thoughts on Burberry?

I thought of it as a clean and straightforward style. Ever since some time, I noticed their young and bold changes. Although today’s outfits contained many new attempts and changes, I felt that their style was still well refined. I felt that Burberry used their own unique perspective to cleanly interpret nature’s elements. Wearing the outfits, I felt like they had a lot of fun ideas.

Which outfit left the biggest impression on you?

Choosing just one is very difficult. There was one that gave off the feel of a medieval knight, and made me feel like a monarch. I’ve heard that in medieval times, people would also wear bearskin from hunting. I think that has some influence on the Burberry outfits that I wore today. Every time I put on an outfit, I always felt like a medieval knight or king. The fur on the clothes had a strong animalistic feel to it. The scenery, weather, and concept were all very harmonious with each other.

Going back to the topic of music, you said that you like to tell stories. Do you also create a universe with music?

Yes, I create a universe for each album. This album creates this universe, while that album creates another. The albums won’t connect to create one universe, though. Each album is its own world, nothing more. I can’t make them magnificently connect into a grand universe. I like to put my story into each album.

Can you use a keyword to describe the universe of the album you are about to release?

It would be “SOMO:FUME.” This is the first album that I made after joining H1GHR MUSIC. This album consists of my energy, feelings, and thoughts, so it contains the meaning of my hopes for people to consume (somo in Korean) this product and and my wishes for my emotions to smear on to you like perfume, which is why I combined [somo] with the [English word] perfume, and named [the album] SOMO:FUME.

In which direction will JAY B’s music flow from now onwards?

I’ve pondered about directionality for a long time, but I couldn’t come up with an answer. The important part is to participate enough for me to not have regrets and be careful. I may disappoint myself if I have too many expectations for the future. I need to work diligently to not be disappointed when I look back; so that in the future, I can see that I worked hard.

Translated by defdaily.

Please support JAY B’s 1st EP album [SOMO:FUME] coming out on August 26 at 6PM KST. jayb1stsoloep.carrd.co

[engagemachine]

"You're so gentle," she tells me. They all say it. I hear it from my patients every time I take their arm to wrap the blood pressure cuff around it, or when I place my stethoscope on their belly, or when I rub circles into their back when I've helped them sit up on the side of the bed for the first time in three days. Sometimes they cry, because it's the first tender touch they've felt since they've been in the hospital. It's very humbling and at the same time very concerning -- why has no one else offered this tenderness to you? Why am I always the first?

But I don't feel gentle. Not when a pair of ribs are cracking beneath my hands as I'm doing chest compressions on a Covid patient who's stopped breathing--the second time I've administered CPR on a Covid patient in two days. I don't feel gentle when I'm wrestling with a patient and begging for them to keep their oxygen mask on. When I have to hold them down and hold them still so my coworker can draw a blood sample. I don't feel gentle when I'm inserting a nasogastric tube down someone's nose, then throat, and into their belly while they're gagging around the tube and their arms are flailing. And I don't feel gentle when I'm washing a sacral wound with bleach and they're crying because it hurts. I don't feel gentle when I have to shout, beg, and plead for patients to listen, when I tell patients they're going to die if they don't keep their oxygen mask on. I don't feel gentle when I have to place a patient in restraints, or when I call a family member and tell them that their loved one's condition hasn't improved. I don't feel gentle when a patient tells me they can't breathe, they can't breathe, I can't breathe, and I'm yelling for coworkers to call the doctor while I'm cycling through different oxygen masks and trying to administer medication to slow their respirations and calm their anxiety.

I'm writing this because I feel like I've been living a little bit behind a veneer on here, although I know deep down that's not really true; I have always wanted my blog to feel like a positive space for anyone and everyone, including myself. I come here to have fun and destress and that's why you usually don't see me reblogging content having to do with politics or global news. I think it's possible to create a healthy space where one does talk about those things and spreads awareness for important causes, but for me, Tumblr is where I come when I need to escape the harsh realities of real life. This is my platform where I can indulge in my fictional proclivities and interests, where I can appreciate art, photography, beautiful writing, my favorite films, music, and cute animals. That's what this space is about. I also have loved meeting new people and getting to know my readers and making new friends and chatting about my stories. That's why I'm here and I thank you all so, so much for indulging me in my passions and for encouraging my writing the way that you have: it has helped me weather the current storm of stress I am feeling in more ways than I could possibly convey.

But I have to be very honest with you all about how much I've been struggling lately, as I feel like I'm reaching a breaking point and I'm somewhat at a loss for how to handle it.

Since September of last year, I've been on an accelerated track to finish the degree I'm working towards, which is a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. I've been a nurse for four years, but I graduated from a two-year nursing program versus a four-year program because I wanted to get into the field earlier than some of my peers, which has been great. Anyway, my school counselor/mentor and I agreed that I could obtain my BSN in a year if I really pushed myself. The program I'm in is self-paced, which has been both a blessing and a curse. Most of my classes I have finished in about three to four weeks. Other classes, like biochemistry, took substantially longer, about seven or eight weeks, if I remember correctly. All of the classes have relied on my ability to self-teach, as there are no scheduled lectures to attend, only assigned readings and videos to watch, if you choose to do so. Fast forward to the end of May, when I went to visit some family, and, upon my return home, really started to lose some of my motivation to complete my classes. I was meant to finish my program in August (this month) but agreed with my mentor that I would take a short break and put my last three classes on hold so that I could resume the program in September. I've enjoyed approximately a month off from school, but "enjoyed" is a term I use loosely here as I was also picking up extra shifts at work because we've been so short staffed and losing nurses left and right.

Which brings me to the main cause of my stress. This pandemic has completely changed the landscape for how I administer care to my patients, and the stress of the care itself has been so utterly overwhelming at times I can hardly bear it. I broke down in tears at work on Sunday morning, shortly after 4:30 am, right there at the the nurse's station, and was sobbing so hard that my supervisor had to pull me away so that I could have some privacy. I wish I could tell you that I sobbed harder than I have in a long time--but I had sobbed at work with that same intensity just four weeks prior, only, I had been alone at the time. It's becoming a trend--I either cry at work or I cry at home--because the stress of this job has become unbearable.

I wish--I desperately wish--I could convey to you the seriousness of Covid. I think so much of the world has already decided to move on from it because they're so tired of having to deal with it and, quite simply, are ready to return to normal. I don't even know what normal is anymore and when--or if--we'll ever be able to return to it. And that has caused me a fair amount of stress and anxiety in and of itself. I miss traveling so much and I don't know when I'll be able to do it again. I haven't seen one of my best friends since the fall of 2018 for this reason, which kills me.

I've seen so much death. Transferred so many patients to the PCU and ICU. Frantically chased patients' oxygen saturation, trying to keep them from circling the drain. Being responsible for six or seven human lives at one time is a stress you cannot fathom unless you have done it yourself. I have cried with a patient, a young woman, who had lost her husband to Covid only hours before in the ER, a young woman who was now faced with battling Covid herself but also planning the funeral of her high school sweetheart from her hospital bed. I have wheeled a patient to the ICU so that he could say one final goodbye to his wife--married for over 50 years--before they pulled the plug and removed her from the ventilator. I have raced down the hallway with my patient on BIPAP, pushing his bed to the ICU and praying that he doesn't stop breathing on the way there. I've had to console crying family members over the phone who are worried about their loved ones, not to mention my crying coworkers who are as overwhelmed as I am. These are just a handful of experiences from the past month alone. There are so many more.

The discomfort of my job has become secondary. I expect, now, to be wearing an N95 for a full twelve or thirteen-hour shift because there isn't time to take it off. Not having a chance to pee or go to the bathroom during that time. Not drinking any water until I'm in my car and taking off my mask and finally taking a deep breath.

On a more personal note, I am continuing to lose weight and it's so discouraging. In high school I used to wear a size 2 or 4. Now, depending on the brand, I wear a double 00. My hair is falling out because of my stress. I haven't slept during the night in... I don't even know how long. I'm constantly tired. Exhaustion hits me like a great tidal wave and I am powerless to stop it. I expect now to crash during the middle of the day on my couch, only to wake up at 11pm and be wide awake for the rest of the night, and, if not wide awake, then in an out of nightmares and sleep paralysis. I have thought about leaving my job, but the idea of job hunting during a pandemic, and while I'm in school... it just makes me feel even more stressed.

I need a break, but it feels like there's nowhere to go to escape. I fantasize about some great adventure, going somewhere I've never been, but I also really miss my family and I'm scared to go home to visit.

This post doesn't really have a conclusive ending. I'm just exhausted and overwhelmed. Any prayers/thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

BTS Documentaries and Ethics

The purpose of music documentaries is usually to put a spotlight on a particular artist, band or major event, with an aim to cast a light into the behind the scenes. It can be intimate, offering fans a glimpse into the thoughts of their favorite artists. It can be expository, which is the main category of music documentaries, like No Direction Home, Gaga: Five Foot Two, Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck, or it can take other shapes in order to tell a story differently than what is the norm, like Scorsese's Rolling Thunder Revue, a mockumentary that used footage from Renaldo and Clara, a film shot by Bob Dylan in the 70s while on tour, slightly altering some facts which would be caught on only by hardcore fans. Another example, which is a favorite of mine, would be 20.000 Days on Earth, which was a musical-documentary which portrayed a fictional day in the life of Nick Cave.

Turning to BTS now, their documentaries are expository, focusing on their tours, beginning with 2017. Burn the Stage is frankly quite relevant as compared to others as it was also the first one released. It's relevance is in showing the band on tour and also how they work. Not only that, it revealed on camera something which is absolutely normal, that is disagreement and honestly, it made it all more real. Not only that, it worked in terms of a documentary structure, that glimpse of conflict. Besides that, it showed some hardships and hard truths about the effect of such a tour and what a hectic work schedule can do to an individual. It's interesting to note that in the BTS case the purpose of a music documentary it's not the usual one. Fans don't really need to wait for it in order to find out more about the band, since BTS has had an online presence ever since the beginning, exposing part of their work life as much as they could. Either way, Burn the Stage had all the elements of a classic on the road documentary that managed to offer information that was not usually revealed up until then. I will not delve too much into the rest of the releases, as they're not at the same standard and over the years, not only it became a bit repetitive, it did not offer a ''realness'' like in the first one, a lot of footage was recycled, as it was used for other DVDs.

What my focus is on today is the question of ethics in documentary practices and I will talk about what was shown in Burn the Stage, specifically the parts of Jungkook getting sick,  as this is an issue that was talked about a lot with many divisive opinions. My point stands for all similar instances in the BTS documentaries.

Documentary ethics is a very vast topic of discussion and a very complicated one, to say the least. A filmmaker has to think about what is considered to be necessary to get a story, how close can they get, is it ok to film some things, what impact it has on its subject, is it too intrusive? Or who benefits from it all? A filmmaker may say it benefits the subject or a certain community, depending on the topic, but it also benefits the filmmaker, as they can make money out of it, get some prestige if the documentary is part of film festivals, receives awards or it's shown on a major tv network. Or simply, money out of sold DVDs. There can be differences between what a filmmaker thinks and deems to be right, his subject and his audience. The first two can negotiate the lines of what is acceptable and come to an agreement and in some cases, a filmmaker spends years documenting, showing the subject what they have, what is their direction, getting their approval, while still maintaining artistic autonomy. It cannot be said the same thing when it comes to the audience, as there can be differences between what they think it's (un)ethical and the filmmaker's own position. I recommend this article that tackles this subject and the interesting part was the one that answered the question if the subject is to be treated differently, depending if they are average people of famous people:

“We say this to everyone at the beginning, we say you’re going to see this film before it’s done. You can see it when it can still be changed. We’re going to try to convince you that we need you in this movie; that it’s important for the story that it’s good for society in general to tell this story, and why your part of it is so important. At the end of the day, if I can’t convince you we’ll take you out of the movie.”

Quinn then went on to explain that the rules that apply to an average person, might not apply to someone who is already famous.

“If they’re already famous, they already have agency in the world,” Quinn said. “We want to get the facts right of course, and if it’s really something that bothers you or that you’re not happy with, you’re going to be listened to. But at the end of the day it has to be my decision.”

This doesn't mean there is a complete disregard towards someone just because they are famous, but the lines are drawn a bit differently when someone is a public figure and has consented to being filmed and appear in a documentary.

Now, how do all these ethical questions work on that particular part in Burn the Stage? When it comes to a documentary, in the best case scenario, the subjects consent to being filmed, they sign a contract. If there's something that should definitely not be seen, that part does not end up in the final cut or simply, not being filmed. As an audience, we have the outsider's point of view, which means we cannot possibly know what kind of discussions or agreements have taken place. The logical option is to understand that in that particular moment when Jungkook was sick, he more likely had not even payed attention to the camera as being intrusive. Not just because of the state he was in, but also because the camera is always there, ever since the beginning. If, after the entire situation, he would want that footage to not be included, he could have had the option to say so, but since that was not the case, we can assume that he consented to it. Of course we could come up with a bunch of scenarios, but that is too much speculation about information that we are simply not privy to so there's no point in going into that direction.

As I mentioned above, the way in which an audience perceives something shown in the documentary could be different than what was the filmmaker's intent, or in this case, also Big Hit. Before I proceed I would like to mention that when it comes to such situations we have to ask ourselves: is it gratuitous or it's there to reflect a reality? The purpose of the documentary was to show life on tour. It means that in such a work environment and given their profession, accidents can happen, people can get sick. It's not uncommon. And if the point is to show reality, then it makes sense that the decision was to film and include that particular situation. But why is there such a strong reaction to it? Is it because of the emotional connection fans have with the person being filmed? This is one answer and it's to be expected (I'm not judging it). Would this reaction be the same if the documentary was about a random average person? We should ask ourselves that, especially when we question intent because it's only fair that the audience as well can be aware of their own bias or preconceived notions.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could I ask for how the V3 boys would react to finding out their hope filled sweet s/o is the mastermind of the killing game and what makes worse is that they're the ultimate hope so for their s/o to be the mastermind of something so despair filled and have the title ultimate hope is completely crushing and we'll despairful!! Hope this isn't to much!

Dw! It’s not too much, it’s despairingly beautiful to consider haha

......

Kiibo

No...that couldn’t be possible! You, the Ultimate Hope, were the mastermind of this terrible killing game?!!

His inner voice kept telling him that hope was the only way forward--and you were the embodiment of said hope, always encouraging everyone and helping them survive the trials.

So he loved you..believed in you..and now....?

He feels devastated and betrayed that you kept this all under a sweet and kind façade.

It doesn’t help when you unveil Kiibo’s status as the “surrogate” for the audience outside. But you promised you gave him that role out of love.

Shuichi

His heart absolutely shattered at the revelation.

It was worse than learning Kaede was framed..worse than discovering this world was fictional..

You--someone he loved, trusted, and confided in--ended up being the very enemy he swore to defeat for the sake of everyone who died.

He couldn’t understand how your hope managed to orchestrate this whole despair-inducing ordeal.

You do pity him, though, explaining you kept him alive because you truly did love him and felt terrible he had to find out this way.

But with all the lies he’s been told..he refuses to believe you this time.

Rantaro

How ironic..the Ultimate Hope was the mastermind of the 53rd killing game.

Yeah, the reveal of the previous one was a shock, but that was nothing compared to this horrifying reveal.

He only sighs, admitting he did have his suspicions. Yet he thought he could believe in you if nobody else.

With a title similar to the one who led survivors to victory...who wouldn’t?

Instead of victory, it feels like utter defeat, even when you’re executed in the end.

Gonta

“No...s/o cannot be mastermind! P-Please say they’re lying, s/o!!”

As much as your beloved gentle giant pleads, however, the expression on your face speaks for itself.

“...I’m sorry, Gonta..”

He can’t believe it. He refuses to. He still thinks you’re a good person and you didn’t actually want to do this.

His stubbornness in accepting the reality frustrates you, as you wonder why he still saw good in you even after revealing your crimes to everyone.

Kaito

Like Gonta, he’d be outraged that someone he loved was the mastermind, even berating the others for even suggesting that.

But as Shuichi pieces everything together, and how it all connects to you, the astronaut can only turn to you in hurt.

“S/o....I-I believed in you..and I still do! I just...w-why would you put us through all of this?!”

Regardless of your motives, he still wants to believe in you. That it wasn’t too late to change and end this killing game.

You think he’s dumb as hell for sticking to that kind of mindset--even as his words bring you to tears.

Kokichi

He did have his suspicions as he started wandering off and poking around the academy.

Though it’s no-less shocking when you admit the truth right as he lies about being the mastermind.

Yep, hearing your boyfriend say that out loud just made you angry. And your tongue slipped big time.

At first he’s in disbelief, but it wasn’t a lie. It was painful truth that came straight from your heart.

You only confessed so the survivors didn’t target him and hate him even more than they already did.

He has no words..only giving you back the Exisal remote after you state you’ll reveal everything in one last trial.

Ryoma

He’ll probably have to hear your confession once..twice..no...three times before it finally sinks in.

You’re the mastermind..the one who put him into this game..and fabricated his whole story into something horrible and twisted.

It really shakes him deep down, because you were the reason he kept surviving this long. You’re the whole reason he even lived now. Your hope inspired him.

But for that same hope to be the cause of all this suffering?

As much as it hurts...he can’t forgive you for that.

Korekiyo

The revelation is certainly shocking.

But at the same time..it’s despairingly beautiful to him.

He did think your sweet personality was aloof to some degree, granted his observational skills.

It goes to show that humanity is truly unpredictable and terrifying--you’re a prime example of that.

What cruel irony...the hope you embodied turned out to be the motive for this game.

Even so he’s quite somber about voting for your execution. He truly did love you, and prays he’ll meet you in the afterlife one day.

[qqueenofhades]

so…now that we all know what you DISLIKE about star wars (and 400% fairly so, you have my full support here)…

what drew you into the universe, what keeps you around?

favorite characters, ships (OTPs or actual spaceships lol), overall themes, do you have a favorite random weird creature or robot that you adore? whatever you wanna talk about!

go off honey (again, but supportively 💖💖💖)

tax paid: the very nerdy star wars punk vest i made and the even nerdier matching vest i made for starsky

Lmaooo, entirely valid. You were like "star wars?" and I was like the drunk person at the bar who can't stop shouting about how much their ex sucks. But now that I have gotten all that off my chest, let's talk about why I love it (since if I didn't love it, I wouldn't have such strong opinions). Basically my feelings on the OG SW trilogy are similar to my feelings on the OG LOTR trilogy, as that tumblr post floating around somewhere put it: sure, they have flaws, but also, they're perfect. I have a complicated relationship with the prequels, as do we all, since George Lucas cannot write dialogue or direct actors to save his life (stick to what you're good at, George, hire other people to do the rest), but even they have their moments. Like. Hit me with that "Across the Stars" love theme, John Williams. Gahh. Just like that.

Because... Star Wars wasn't actually this omnipresent corporate global entertainment monolith when it started out. It was a dorky low-budget indie sci-fi film in the 1970s which everyone thought was going to bomb. But it told a simple and compelling story in an interesting way, everyone agrees that ESB is one of the best films/sequels ever made, and then ROTJ gave it a happy ending while it was still okay to do that. My main thematic gripe with the Disney trilogy (I will try to keep those to a minimum, lol, but I have to bring it up to compare) is that it very clearly fell into the "actual happy endings are naive and unrealistic and a cynical postmodern audience won't accept anything less than things being Bad" trap that, yet again, we have GOT to thank for. It obviously existed to some degree before that, but GOT blew it up to huge levels, where the only valid situation or character is that which is Grimdark and Depressing. Which, in my view, misses the heart and soul of what SW is all about??

Like. ESB is genuinely dark. ANH was this fun plucky little sci-fi film where the scrappy good guys won the day against the Nazi stand-ins, as they were supposed to, and then ESB comes along (speaking of John Williams, let us all chant together, DUH DUH DUH DUHDUHDUH DUHDUHDUH, DUH DUH DUH DUHHHH DUHHH DUHHH DUHHHH) and things go... wrong. Leia and Han are on the run for most of the movie, then get captured and tortured by the Empire and and betrayed (however unwillingly) by Lando. The Rebellion is attacked on Hoth (I tell you, those fuckin AT-AT walkers were SCARY when you see it as a young kid for the first time), and forced into hiding. Luke loses his hand, doubts Obi-Wan and Yoda and realizes that his mentors are fallible, makes dumb mistakes, and of course gets hit with The Most Famous Line In Movie History. But it's also just adrenaline and excitement. THE ASTEROID FIELD! THE HAN-LEIA BANTER! THE FIRST LUKE-VADER DUEL! THE FACT THAT YOU HEAR TWO FRICKING NOTES OF THE IMPERIAL MARCH AND YOU'RE JUST LIKE OH YEAH OH YEAH OH YEAHHHH!

But also then... Return of the Jedi. It gets shat upon for the Ewoks and reusing the Death Star as the Big Bad and being supposedly cheesy and not as Thematically Dark as ESB. Which is all kinda silly, in my opinion, but also, can we talk about Luke Skywalker's character arc and how he chooses possibly the most radical compassion ever demonstrated by a hero in an action movie, let alone a space opera. He insists that Anakin Skywalker is still in there somewhere and puts his own neck on the line to prove it. Luke doesn't save the galaxy by being a Badass Jedi. He saves it by throwing away his lightsaber and saying "I will not fight you, Father." He saves it by trusting that even in the depths of darkness, Anakin can come back from the charred ruins of Darth Vader and finally do what he was supposed to do all along. He can end Palpatine for good and all (we don't talk about "Somehow Palpatine has returned" because it's nonsense, obviously). Anakin can avenge the Jedi and what was done to him and all the lies he believed and the pain he wreaked on the galaxy, even then. It's not too late. It's not too late. Like. I don't care if this is Lightweight or Childish or whatever. It makes me CRY every time I watch it. Especially the moment where Luke takes off Anakin’s helmet and sees how ruined he actually is under there, and yet the downfall and death of the trilogy’s chief villain is not triumphant at all but instead utterly heartbreaking. “You were right about me Luke... tell your sister... you were right.”

Excuse me, I need to just /CRIES INTENSELY/

Luke won't be tempted to the dark side for his own sake, but Leia's ("If you will not join me, then perhaps she will"). I likewise hold firmly that Anakin/Vader is one of the best movie villains/antiheroes of all time and likewise have many feelings and Strong Opinions about his arc, prequel writing clumsiness and eye-rollingly tepid love story aside. (See: he and Obi-Wan were deeply in love and in a way they still are, don't @ me. I have no problems with Padme and obviously stan Natalie Portman at all times, but Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship is the real love story, the heart of the prequels, and in some ways even the subsequent movies, the end.) And “so this is how democracy dies, with thunderous applause” is... raw af as a line. For being in a Star Wars prequel movie. What?? (Also, the Revenge of the Sith novelization had no business being as good as it was. If only that dude had also written the movie.)

Anyway, my point is: the OG trilogy had plenty of moments of staggering emotional weight and where things genuinely sucked for the good guys and the outcome wasn’t entirely clear. The difference is that it didn’t choose to dwell on them, and it allowed for a transformative fictional space where a happy ending, fiercely fought for and squarely earned, was the right outcome. We didn’t need to go back thirty years later and make everything suck for fear that a cynical modern audience couldn’t connect with it otherwise. (Like I said, we didn’t need the new movies at all, but Disney heard that Cha-Ching of the Almighty Dollar). Star Wars was sci-fi, sure, but it also had the fantasy elements that allowed a happy ending to be the right choice for what we saw the characters go through and the philosophy that carried us through the original trilogy.

Likewise it’s just... Peak as far as dynamics go. C-3PO the fussy metal butler who worries about Everything and R2-D2 who is the droid embodiment of YOLO? Flawless. Sassy scruffy space pirate and badass politician warrior princess bicker constantly, butt heads, drive each other crazy, and then fall in love? Iconic. (And has shaped my ship tastes for... all of eternity, oops.) The above-discussed transformation of Luke Skywalker, whiny ordinary teenage kid, to the truly great man who fulfills what Obi-Wan, Yoda, AND the rest of the entire Jedi order couldn’t manage to do, because of their own flaws and blind spots and black-and-white moral views that didn’t know what to do with a man who loved as passionately as Anakin Skywalker, for better or for worse? The guy who managed to save the galaxy with love? STAN.

So... what? The Disney trilogy decides to retcon all that, throw everything that they’ve fought for out the window, make Han, Leia, and Luke miserable and rejecting the roles they grew into in the original trilogy, and die without ever really reuniting or seeing each other again as a trio? The underlying message was that “these happy endings aren’t satisfactory/realistic/sophisticated enough” and idk, maybe it’s just the shitshow of the last few years, but I’d like to see some entertainment that had the cojones to tell me that despite all the darkness and despair, maybe there’s a chance for hope. (”Rebellions are built on hope,” thank you Only Valid New Star Wars Movie Rogue One.) And Rogue One worked so well, despite being utterly GUTTING as all the heroes died one by one, because we knew what was coming next (A New Hope) and that their sacrifice was going to be worth it. I don’t care if that’s “realistic” or not. As I’ve said before, that’s what stories are for, and if I only wanted things that were Real Life, I would only read the news. Besides, the idea that happy endings never happen in reality is equally bullshit. We as a culture need to accept that more, instead of finding reasons to tear everything down.

So just... yes. The original trilogy might have flaws, but also, it’s perfect. And do I want to rewatch it all now? Kinda.

(Anyway. I warned you this was gonna be long. Oh look, it’s long, and I’m sure there is even more I could say, but still. Ahem.)

sleepover weekend asks

[damselofblueroses]

The Children of Paradise

Summary: Set three years after the Rumbling, a young captain of Paradise Island, Anna Doukaina suddenly learned that her husband alive during the Paradisian Revolution.

Chapter Summary: After one month that Anna spent in the Doukaina's (Levi's Tea Shop) she was more than ready to explode. One day she decided to visit the Library and she had to face a couple of realities which she had no idea. This chapter contains a temporary health issue, if you can be negatively triggered by fainting, becoming numb or the loss of conscious please do not continue :)

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS AND ESPECIALLY CHAPTER 139, Descriptions of Depression and Grief, Mentions of Death, Emotional Hurt. Progress of the fiction contains nsfw / Smut, minors please do not.

Note: The idea of Paradisian Revolution and the transformation of Historia Reiss are the offspring of my imagination, I would like to think about how would Levi’s aftermath of the Rumbling be in my head after I read chapter 139 :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Two: the Ouroboros

“Mrs. Ackerman?” I heard the voice of little kid, Sofia and turned to the source of voice. She was jumping to me by holding a bunch of daisies and dandelions. “Paul told me to give you these flowers.”

I kneeled down to blond girl who was always so lovely, her brown eyes were shining, and her checks were flushing with pink. I patted her head then gave her a piece of chocolate.

“Thank you very much, Sofia. When you and Paul visit me again?”

“We will come in the afternoon, Mrs. Ackerman.” she danced around me. “Gabi and Falco said that they will take us from school today and we can assist them in order to run the café.”

“You are a good girl, you know that.” I smiled. She could be my child. “But do you remember what I asked? Do not call me Mrs. Ackerman, I prefer to be called as Anna but if you want to call me with a surname, call me as Doukaina.”

“I cannot do that!” her eyes instantly became wider, stopped leaping around me like a cannibal. “We are told that we always have to call you by Mr. Ackerman’s name.”

“Who told you this?” I could feel my hands automatically turned into fists.

“Mr. Ackerman.” she was too naïve. “He is very serious, and also Paul strongly advises me to not cause Mr. Ackerman’s anger.”

“Yeah.” I murmured to little girl. “He is a short-tempered man. Anyway, Sofia, call me Anna whenever you will feel more relaxed, okey?”

Her face was telling me that she never would dare to go against Mr. Ackerman’s orders, but I did not say anything on the issue. Instead, I talked with her nonchalantly, made her more excited for the afternoon we were going to share then accompanied her till her house where was two apartments away from Doukaina’s.

Yes.

That bastard dared to name his fucking café after my name.

After leaving Sofia to her house, I came back to the café and tethering my teeth to the name. I was storming to the upstairs.

In the last one month, which I spent by refusing to talk with that motherfucker instead of expressing my thoughts on divorce and grunting a lot, I had a first-handed report on how much that bastard continued on his life without me.

I was in everywhere and nowhere.

The café had been under the Rules of Doukaina that Onyankopon had a civilized conversation with me after that bastard literally seized me in his home. He explained the rules while he was hoping that it would be a catalyser for me to calm down, nope, but I just listened to him without showing an expression. Basically, the rules included what I would like or not, and Captain Ackerman decided to run his own business by accepting my tastes as the standards.

His strategy works very well, Onyankopon shamelessly says.

What the heck I was, his strategy? His experimental rat?

I was fuming after that conversation, but I could manage to hold my anger and pain inside of me. Instead, I remained silent, ignored him when he came back to home, I refused to have dinner with him, I rejected every kind of proposes from him.

After Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco came to me.

Their visits were always hard because of two reasons.

Falco was a sweetheart; I could not refuse his kindness and Gabi had no idea on giving up even if when the occasion called for it. And trust me, my mental and emotional situations definitely called for silence, but Gabi did not get any signals. She told me a lot of stories on a vast range, starting from how horrible Mr. Ackerman was to how much he had been getting through.

Their visits always rip a brick off my invisible wall against him.

When I stayed by myself, and I generally chose to be alone, I realized the real reason of my presence here. It was the most painful part, I could not leave but it was not because of Levi had captured me against my will, I could not find the power of leaving him even though I have already refused even wishing a good day to him.

I cannot leave him, if I will set my foot on my way back to Paradise, I know that I cannot survive this time.

Everything I said, everything I had been doing did not mean a single thing. I was aware of my love to him, although I was broken into pieces because of him.

In this one month, every day I could see his face. Grumpy, unhappy, full of scars, deeply wounded, not like Captain Levi Ackerman who I knew in the past.

But, to my dismay I always loved Levi Ackerman, not the humanity’s strongest, not that legendary and reluctant hero.

I loved that fucking surly, petulant, grouchy, peeved, easily pissed off, clean freak, bossy, dominant and bad-mouthed Levi Ackerman who was always on my side. I loved that shorty who was reliable, extremely strong, capable of many things, careful, kind when the occasion calls for it and very clever.

He was my partner on the battlefield, my friend in the Headquarters, my lover in our tiny place.

Bearing witness of our separated 3 years did not help me to keep my anger against him, however, I had been trained by someone who was famous to hold grudges and has a small piece of forgiveness in the heart.

I was not only Levi’s but also Levi’s sculpture. He craved me with his heart and mind during the years of my training and beyond. Even our marriage bed was a training field.

Oh Jesus, when I remembered that night, a sudden flush attacked to my face, I could feel the heat on my cheeks.

I vividly remember Levi’s voice when he was praising me for being the best one for him although I was inexperienced till that night.

Can you stop remembering unnecessary memories?!

No.

I grunted to my useless brain and moved out of my tiny room. Levi gave me a room in his place when I refused to be in the same area with him. What a gentleman!

He knows you cannot afford a house, and he would kill someone instead of letting go to a hotel. He wants to keep you in front of his eyes, you were absent for a long time, Onyankopon said to me. He always believes he never see you again but all of a sudden you appeared.

If he wanted to keep me with him, why he did not come to fetch me after war, I asked to Onyankopon. He half smiled to me and told me this is a question to be asked to Levi himself. Only he could give me an answer, Onyankopon did not want to interfere our personal lives at this level.

Well, I guessed he interfered a lot but still I did not force him to tell me.

Levi’s flat was the second floor of his café, so I came down of the stairs in order to get fresh air. Levi was working behind Doukaina’s counter, he was dealing with bunch of customers whose I was getting familiar with some of them. When they saw me, they greeted me with their heads, I reciprocated by denying Levi’s strong presence. His eyes were piercing my back, I could feel it, but I refused to take a look back, I grab my coat and bag, then I stepped out of Doukaina’s.

He named his fucking café after me, how should I feel about this? Proud? No fucking way, every time I looked at this name, I lost my nuts.

He managed to be happy without me but living with my shadow. How could I forgive this?

I took a deep breath and started to walk on the street. My foot knew the way, the direction. I was heading to the library. To be honest, I was really so bored because of sitting on my back, it was not something I was familiar with. I had to keep myself busy, and I had to figure a way out in order to be back to Paradise.

With or without Levi.

After one month, observing him without talking, taught me that I could not be that cold-hearted bitch even if I desperately wanted to be. I could not tear him off his life, there was no possible option to try. He built a life for himself, Gabi and Falco, and Onyankopon.

How could I be so heartless taking them into our hell again?

They sacrificed a lot.

Sometimes I looked at Levi and I saw a middle-aged man who spent his life on battlefields, who lost everyone dear to him. His scars telling me how bad he hurt, sometimes he had been making a low-pitched grunt because of pain caused by his leg. He kept working on, but I could easily tell how much physical pain he was in. Falco secretly told me he was seeing a doctor, however there was no treatment to cure his wounded muscles.

And his eye.

I could not forget about his gleamy, metallic grey eyes and piercing look he could give with them. Now, he lost one of them, all the scars on his face, I bet my life on he felt like he was a beast.

Well, he was always a beast but a handsome beast.

Now, I could bet even my life on he felt like cannot be loved because he was no longer the humanity’s strongest, he was no longer Captain Levi Ackerman.

He was only Levi from Doukaina’s, the owner of a little tea shop, a semi-quasi father for a Marleyan kiddo gang.

How can you explain that to Armin? He believes you are trying to persuade Levi to comeback.

I have zero fucks to give the Revolution.

I was in a really darker mood when I reached to the library. The familiar scent of books got my senses immediately and eased my temper.

“Hello, Ms.” I heard the lady at the desk. “How can I help you?”

“Hello. I want to renew my membership to library.” I took my old card out of my purse. “Actually, I was a member, but it has been too long, so I do not know if I have to get a new card.”

“Let me see.” she reached to my membership card, and she gasped. “Miss Doukaina? Is that you?”

“Um, yeah?” I was confused because of her reaction. “Is that something wrong?”

“No!” she yelled and realized where we were and pressed her hand into her mouth. “I am sorry, but we have heard a lot about you. The headmaster will be extremely happy to see you again!”

“Is Angelo still here?” I proclaimed. “Really?”

“Yes, he did not retire yet.” she beamed. “Let me call him, or do you prefer to visit him by yourself?”

“I can go to his office.” I grinned like a Cheshire cat for this unexpected piece of news. “If you allow me, of course.”

“Be my guest.” she looked like I was a very good present and she definitely looked like she wanted to tell me something. I raised one of my eyebrows to push her, she could not hold it back anymore. “Forgive my boldness but I really admire your works!”

“Thank you.” I was surprised but I had to admit that I liked her boldness. I always liked to hear someone liked the works of my brain, it really meant a lot after killing titans and people like an endless string. I did not wish to be praised because of being a good fighter but hearing a praise because of being a good student or librarian was something else. “I am glad to hear that, I did not know they still have my work.”

“Your books are highly demanded both from colleges and individuals.” she smiled like a freak. I easily recognized the pattern of being a fan of someone, her face reminded me my face when I was trained by Levi. I know these shiny eyes, this excitement, this admiration. “I never think I could see you in person.”

“Maria,” another teenager appeared from the door behind of desk. “Headmaster calls for yo- Oh. I am sorry I did not see you Ms.”

“Fred,” she exhaled. “Do you know who is she? She is Miss Anna Doukaina!”

“What?” the young boy’s face went into blank he was literally frozen. “Who?”

“Anna Doukaina!” Maria repeated. “She came back!”

“A-An-,” Fred shuttered. “You must be kidding me; everyone knows she lives in Paradise!”

“Well, you are right.” I interrupted. “I am currently visiting Marley since there is no restriction on visiting people.”

“Yeah. You. Anna. Wow. Doukaina. You are right.” Fred’s eyes became widest, for a second, I thought he could manage to gauge them out only by looking at me. “Wow. Anna Doukaina is here.”

“What Fred means,” Maria stood up by giving her colleague criticizing look. “We do not expect to see you in Marley again after the speculations.”

“Speculations?” I cocked my eyebrow again. “What kind of speculations if I may ask?”

“Well, your husband lives in Marley without you, right? Both of you are famous names, he was a hero amongst people, you were named as a genius and people talks.” She at least managed to seem as embarrassed, but I could see the curiosity burned in her eyes. “You got your degree from Academia while your husband opened a café in the capital, but no one saw you guys together. Everyone believed that you guys divorced, after you went back to Paradise, most of us thought that you would not be back.”

“Holy shit.” I could not hold it. “I did not know we were a material for gossip.”

“You were topic number 1, actually.” Fred spilled the beans. “Especially when you refused to see Mr. Ackerman, a lot of husbands were condemning you.”

“What?”

“When you refused to see Mr. Ackerman,” Fred repeated himself like he was talking something quite natural. “A lo-

“Could you give me a moment, please?” I raised my hand.

“Are you okey?” Maria reached to me with a genuine worry.

“I am fine, thank you.” I replied but I could feel the panic attacks on the way, my breathing was becoming heavier, and my heart was pounding too fast. Bad combination.

“Fetch me a glass of water.” I heard another voice while the room is really starting to spin around me. “Quickly!”

A voice that was familiar to give orders.

A voice that was extremely grumpy but always managed to give me thrills.

The room was becoming darker, I knew that I was losing my sight and conscious for the first time in the last 5 years. Strong, muscled arms held me between their protection, before I fainted, I knew who was holding me.

Levi.

Levi Ackerman, an hour ago

“Oi, brat!” I looked at Falco, he was breathing too fast, and his face was totally red when he made an entrance to Doukaina’s. And his shoes are dirty, fucking hell. “What happened?”

“Mrs. Ackerman!” he yelled. “She is going to the library!”

“Shit.” I hissed between my teeth. Fucking woman. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Gabi saw her on the road. Does she know these people’s thoughts on her?”

“Of course not.” I untied my apron and throw it to Falco. “You are on charge, handle the rest.”

I did not waste a second, rushed to the road. I was definitely fuming, she did not know a single thing about the gossips on our not-so-well relationship, but for a while we were a quite popular topic for every living creature of Marley.

She does not know the curses of patriarchal system of Marleyan society about her, she does not know they label her as the cold-hearted bitch of Paradise.

She had been acting as a tough nut but there was a very fragile little girl inside of her heart, I knew it very well. If she were going to learn those gossips, she would be broken deeply. Even though, she has been ignoring me, I was aware of her true feelings, she did never want to be apart from me.

That’s why she could not forgive me, but she stayed with me.

I never want her to get caught up my mess, and I knew she would fight for me for her dear life, so I thought the only way was leave her to believe that I was dead. It would be better if she were not around me, but the only way to make it possible was building a barrier between us. There was no need for her to learn how many days I spent just missing her, just longing for her, hating myself so bad for letting her to go.

Yet, even with my rightful excuses and reasons, I deeply acknowledged the dire need of apologizing her over and over, begging for her forgiveness which I barely contained inside of myself.

Not seeing her around me was a hell of journey.

But seeing her around me was the worst scenario one could imagine, and I was being caught in really horrible situations since I was a boy in Underground.

She was my devoted girl, in terms of Hange’s very obvious language. She dedicated all of her to me with an incredible fidelity. When we were tying the bow, before the ceremony, before she vowed as my wedded wife, she was already the bone of my bone, the blood of my blood.

“Fucking hell.” I buzzed at my goddamn leg while I was walking to the library. It was making me slower, I hated being unable to do what I want as physically.

If I could have my body and strength as usual, the only thing I would do was taking her into my arms and having her over and over again like a fucking ouroboros.

I cursed behind my mouth and tried to walk faster. I had to catch that idiot before she was getting in touch with those poisonous vipers. However, I had to admit that what made me obnoxious more than I supposed to be not only those vipers, but also my unconscious contribution to that fucking cauldron of gossip. While I was keeping myself as invisible from her eyes when she was having an education here, I did not think of the things people could figure it out. They learned about Paradise, they learned about us, they talked about us, and everything was combined with each other.

In the end, she was labelled as an ungrateful bitch, and I was upgraded to faithful husband. I could not fix anything since I was bloody busy on hiding but hearing those comments about her fed me with pain.

She can be anything but being an ungrateful one? Do not make me laugh.

When I reached to destination, I quickly prayed for anything which could help me. I dearly hoped for she was not having any undesirable piece of information; I directly went into the entrance.

Godfuckingdamnit, she heard.

That was the first thing came to my mind when I saw her posture. Her shoulders were fallen down, her hands were shaking, and her face was nothing but full of agony. There were a couple around her, a boy and girl, they were trying to ask her if she was okey or not.

Do you think she is okey, you motherfuckers?

“Fetch me a glass of water!” I howled to them and attempted to catch Anna. “Quickly!”

Her body replied to my body immediately, fucking hell, her tensed muscled became a little bit softer when I grasped her between my arms. She was getting numb; her knees were twisting.

We had been here before.

Last time she fainted on me; we were butchering a bunch of titans.

I wonder if she carries the ODM scars still on her waist…

Is there anyone sees those little strings after me?

What the fuck I am thinking?

“Do not fucking dare to faint on me again.” I grunted but I held her as tight as I could dare of. She belongs to me, she is my bloody wife, damnit. “Keep calm and take deep breathes.”

“I am not going to faint.” she whispered, her voice was really weak, but I could hear her in every situation. Holy shit, I heard her voice when she fallen into a shitshow of titans and covered by her own blood during the clash of battlefield sounds!

We shared too many things.

“Yes, last time you said you were not going to faint, I had to carry you back to headquarters.”

“You were happy, weren’t you?” she mumbled. “I gave you the change of touching my body.”

“Hella, if I wanted to touch you, I would do before you found yourself between a titan sandwich.”

“Only in your dreams.” she said but her voice was getting weakest. I knew she was going to faint before the water, she closed her eyes, her hand dropped to the ground then the boy turned from the corner.

“Where did you get the water?” I yelled. “From Paradise?”

“I am sorry, Mr. Ackerman.” he shuttered. “There is a line in front of automatons.”

“Put that glass.” I turned to the girl. “I have only two questions to both of you. What did you say to her, and do you have something like cologne?”

“I have cologne!” the boy rushed to the back of counter desk. He left his colleague to my definitely dreadful gaze, what a companion, the girl started to slightly shake. I just looked at her by cocking my eyebrow.

“What did you say to her?”

“We did not sa-

“She fainted, let’s give up on acting and tell me what she learned from you enough to make her to lose her conscious. Before I am going to get angry.”

“She told her about the gossips.” I heard the boy’s little squeaks. “She left you, didn’t she?”

“As I thought.” I mumbled and stood up by carrying Anna’s body. “How much you told her? Tell me the whole story.”

“I swear I just talked about the speculations!” the girl angrily looked at the boy. “He told about Mrs. Ackerman’s refusal to see and its impacts on communi-

“How much you said?” I walked into the bench. “How much?”

“Just refusal!” he really screamed; his face was completely whitened. “I did not tell anything about her nickname, cold-hearted bitch!”

“If you will use that nickname again, you will not have a tongue to speak again.” I pressed on every letter of the sentence. “Tell this to everyone you know, if I hear a single word against my wife, you can be sure of I am capable of slicing living creatures like you can slice a bread.”

“O-okey!”

“Now, hold the door for us.” I turned to the main doors and walked out of the building by carrying Anna.

Carrying Anna?

What?

Anna Doukaina, after 4 hours

I woke up with a terrible headache.

Let me rephrase. I woke up because of a terrible headache.

“Here.” I heard a grumpy voice and a hand without two fingers came into my sight. “Swallow.”

I tried to move but his hand pressed me on the soft layer, a bed I guess, again.

“Feel free to lie down there. You have to rest according to the orders of doctor, so no sudden movements but you will spend a day here.”

Why a doctor came to see me?

My mind was foggy, slow to recall the last memories I had, however while I was having the pills that Levi gave me, I remembered the very last moments before I lost my conscious.

I was fainted.

Okey.

I was fainted on Levi.

Damnit.

I was fainted on Levi after I asked him if he was happy with me or not.

Godfuckingdamnit.

My mind corporate with me in the worst way I could imagine of. Those words of two receptionist, labelling me as an ungrateful wife, careless woman who did not consider her beloved one reminded me everything.

“I cannot open my eyes.” I lied to him. I know Levi is here and I am sure he did not leave me for a second, he waited me to open my eyes. I do not want to see him. “But I am pretty well, so you can go back to work.”

“I do not want to.” he plainly answered. “I will stay, and I know you can open your eyes if you want. But I respect your decision to keep them closed. I am not someone who is worth to look.”

“What?” I fell on his bloody trap and immediately looked at him.

“Oi.” he smirked. Smirk? “It is good to see you are awake.”

“How many minutes I was unconscious?” I asked but I could feel all the heat of embarrassment as I hopelessly tried to change the subject. This is why I hate being with Levi, I become a stupid, lovesick girl!

“Almost 4 hours passed after you fainted on me.” he seemed nonchalant as he informed me; my chin was dropped. 4 hours?! “I have to say, I am impressed. The last time you were fainted for almost half an hour.”

“It was not the last time.” I could not catch what I said, then I pressed my hand onto my mouth, but it was fucking too late. Levi’s eyebrows furrowed and he gazed at me while he was trying to figure what I meant.

“I will not force you to tell me,” he murmured, and he took my hand off my mouth. You are damn close, Ackerman! “But I really appreciate if you can share when you were fainted after that incident.”

“When I heard about the explosion.” I replied. I was too tired of being hiding from Levi. “I thought you were dead.”

Levi did not answer to me, instead of words, he was using his goddamn eyes. I always believed his eyes could see my heart and soul, even the deeps that I did not know anything about.

“Were you,” he cleared his throat after looking at me for a while. “Upset?”

“Ha?” I inhaled while my mind just left the building. “I thought you were dead; I was not upset. I wanted to die but I had to wait for you to be back to me. What would happen if you appeared in our home and could not find me? That was the only thought kept me alive.”

“How much you heard about explosion?” his voice was cracked. Full of fear. Anxiety.

“I knew that monkey exploded himself. No one told me in detail, no fucking one tell me that you are alive. I guess, they think I am nothing to you even though I carry your name.”

“I wanted them to shut their mouth about me.” Levi was a sweet talker as always. “I did not want my situation keeping you back from living your life as fully.”

“And what does it mean?” I managed to lift my upper body by gaining strength from my elbows. “Do you know how many days I spent mourning for you? Do you know how it was, believing that you were dead because of a monkey, because of Commander Smith, because of our goddamn world’s cruelty? An I had to continue on that way until the end!”

I could not control myself anymore, it was too much, overwhelming and suffocating. I just wanted to scream everything I have been holding inside out off my chest. I was definitely not in my best physical condition, and I really preferred to have this conversation in a situation which I would be at my best self-confidence time, but no. It was too late for that.

“Do you know how much I cried? Have you ever thought about me even for little while you are exactly aware of my devotion to you? How could you decide leaving me behind, in a total darkness by yourself? Not because once I was your wife, I was your comrade and you left me with the feelings like how you felt after Commander Erwin passed out.”

“Look at me!” he literally grunted towards me. “I am not the guy you have been knowing in the past anymore, I cannot give anything to you, unless you are fine with a small tea shop where is full of tea leaves, two Marleyan kids and a retired soldier’s company. And me, as wrecked, wounded to death, like a scumbag. How could I comeback to home like nothing happened to me, and face with you when you just having a change of living a normal life after war?”

This was the longest speech Levi gave to me till now, and we had almost half of our lives together.

“Do you think I could take you out of my mind even for a bloody second after I woke up in a fucking, dirty and cold barn? You were the last thought of me when that motherfucker exploded my cart, you were fucking crying and lamenting for me, you lost your smile, I knew that you could not overcome my death although the promises we gave to each other, I cold-heartly killed my subordinates before the explosion after they became fucking titans, but I cannot deal with the idea of you being dead. You are the only one I cannot sacrifice of. Do not act like you were alone in pain, I carried that burden, you have no idea how much I missed you, you were carved into my eyelids, I did not spend a fucking minute as not dreaming of you.”

“You should have let me know.” I gritted my teeth. To be honest, I was impressed by his honesty. Levi was always honest; however, he had never been vocal about his own feelings, I knew for once he loved me, but I had never ever heard those three words, eight letters. “There is nothing left to be said by you, you cannot find an excuse for your choice.”

“I do not try to find an excuse.” Levi said. “I explained how I felt to you until you appeared in front of my door, for a long time I strongly believed that you were a ghost.”

“What do you expect?” I hissed at him. “Do you think I can easily forget your misbehaviour? I know you like knowing the back of my hand, you always choose the way that makes you less regretful and you chose to leave me behind.”

“I did.” he inhaled. “And that was the best choice to make. I could not drag you into my shit.”

“How could you do that?” I asked but all my anger left me. I suddenly started to feel like I was empty, there was nothing but pain. “How could you, Levi? I was your wife.”

“You are my wife.” he grabbed my hand. Did he really believe that he could change our hiatus? My emotions were remained untouched, maybe he could be right on his mindset, maybe he really thought about me and tried his best in order to keep me out of his personal hell, however it did not help me to overcome all the sleepless nights I had. I pulled my hand back out of his fingers. I was searching for this hand during the long nights he caused, and there was no guarantee he would not leave me again. If he would decide on leaving me behind was the best thing to do, he would do it immediately. He would not ask my opinion, he would leave me alone with only my thoughts, my memories of him and he would let me to eat myself alive. I could almost taste the bitterness on my tongue, I could not let his poor reprimands to break my walls while my wavering feelings of abandonment conquered me.

Rain hitting the windowpane above, not a playful and soft type of rain. That was cruel rain that beating the life out of city. Suitable for us.

“You are my wife, Anna.” he repeated himself. “Should I remind it to you, goddamn, I can happily do it.”

His face transformed into something I have ever seen in his features. His Aegean eyes turned into a stormy sea in a second, burning with unnamed desires which I was also feeling in the deeps of my heart. Determination conquered his fucking handsome face, and there was fear. Self-hatred. Regret. But much to my dismay, there was a dire need of teaching me a lesson that set his soul on fire.

I have been knowing this face of Levi. I have been there before.

I knew when he got me and he knew he did.

In a blink of an eye, before I could take any position to defend myself, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to his arms. He was fucking strong for a man who lost his strength! I quickly realized the potential danger I was in. If he would touch me, I knew that my heart did not spend even a second to betray my mind. That would be the nail in my coffin.

Even though the haziness of my mind slowed my reactions, I covered my face with my hands.

“Do not fucking dare.” I dropped my voice tone as I was informed on, I looked more intimating when I threat someone with lower tone. I did not tone down my wording, there was no place to be gentler with words, I was going to use my curses and I had quite a vocabulary. “If you lay even a finger on me, that’s going to be only way makes you regretful.”

“Maybe.” he did not try to take my hands off my face, and he literally locked me in his embrace. “I assume so.”

“If you do,” I struggled to get rid of his arms around me. “Why don’t you use your brain and let me go? For a better life?”

“So smart.” he huffed once in laughter. What the fuck? The tension of the room changed into something I really did not want even to think of naming it. “I do not have intention to let you go. Never again, brat.”

“Levi, I swear on everything you can believe, if you do not le-

“What will you do?” he interrupted me. “According to you, I already fucked the things up and you told me you will never give me your forgiveness. What makes a difference between not being forgiven for a sin or for two sins?”

“This is the shittiest logic I have ever heard, and I was in Military Police for a while.” I forgot to press my hands onto my face due to his unexpected, unpleasant, and twisted thought about forgiveness. “I do not know where you learned about sins, asking for forgiveness or literally remission, but I think you lost couple of important points.”

What I missed was while I was lecturing him on forgiveness, I let my hands down and I had been sitting on Levi Ackerman’s thighs.

More importantly, he was definitely not the type of man who miss a chance to perform what he aimed for.

He caught my hands immediately and he pressed his lips into mine.

When I felt his velvety lips on my mouth after fucking years, that sensation made me numb in a nanosecond. My logic just left the room, left me with my dire need for Levi. His hands. His lips. His love. Everything about him, I just need Levi, Godfuckingdamnit he always affected me like anaesthesia.

He kissed me and it made me felt like I was breathing again.

I could feel he loosened his tight grip around my wrists by the fact that I was definitely not fighting with him, on the contrary, I was responding to him in the way he wanted. I knew that I was going to be extremely ashamed of what the heck I was doing right now, but even the sorrowness eating me every day refused taking the control of my body back, I felt like my flesh gained an independent character who was begging to my soul for keeping the things as they were happening right now.

Levi was kissing me. His goddamn lips made me feel like I was alive.

The Ouroboros that living inside of me started to comeback into life. With every move Levi made, I could feel Ouroboros biting itself inside of me by releasing the poison.

“No.” I broke the kiss and pressed my hands to his shoulders in order to keep him away from me. He was heavily breathing, his beautiful face became pinkish while his lips shading with darker red, and his eyes, goddamn, his eyes were burning with passion.

He looked like a god, and I hated him for his level of good-looking to my bits.

I was burning too but my fire was caused by different reasons except one, the reciprocated hunger for each other was remained same between Levi and me, to my dismay I strongly felt it. However, the anger was growing in me was for both of us. To him, for his fucking departure and leaving me by myself and his shitty excuses, building a life without me, living a life in the shadows, and running away from me. The list never ends. To myself, for loving him as much as the first day I realized how much I devoted my heart to him and never manage to overcome my love for him even though I had to.

“I love you.” he said. “You fucking know, I spent my life by loving you, brat.”

Maybe there was an earthquake.

Maybe there were bombs exploding all over Marley or Paradise.

Maybe there was a chain of natural disasters which happening right now.

But I could not understand even if I would be brutally killed in this very moment.

He finally said that he loved me.

“If you say no, I will not do anything.” he murmured. “Just tell me.”

I stared at him, how could he be a total moron and did not see how I was amazed by his long-awaited confession? Inside of me, I was screaming, swearing, crying, laughing, and cursing at full speed but I was frozen in reality.

Let me introduce Levi Ackerman to you.

A blockhead, humanity’s strongest and my Ouroboros literally and figuratively eating me alive.

My Levi.

“May I continue to kiss you?”

[letterboxd]

A Cinematic Outcoming.

From Istanbul to Chicago, and C.R.A.Z.Y. to Spirited Away, Letterboxd member, writer and film programmer Emre Eminoğlu explores the films that drove his gay awakening.

“I see it as my duty to never shut up about how representation matters.” —Emre Eminoğlu

I was one of the luckiest ones, yet I had no idea how lucky I was. Growing up in Istanbul, Turkey, a predominantly patriarchal, conservative and homophobic society, my luck was being born into an open-minded, secular and loving family.

In this bubble, I was isolated from the struggles of the majority of my people. I was not bullied at school by my peers, I was not forced into being someone else by my family. Yet I still had that voice in my head. As soon as I realized something could be different with me, I became my own bully and forcefully adopted a fictional persona: ‘exceptionally normal’.

Coming out was hard, but coming out to myself was harder. Although I was perfectly aware of my sexual identity, I could not come to terms with the possibility of being ‘abnormal’. Cue cinema. Watching films was a way of escape for high-school Emre—it still is—and it was inevitable that I would come across some LGBTQ+ films. I was not consciously in search of a ‘truth’ about myself but I started seeing my reflection in them, as they slowly disarmed the bully I involuntarily created.

Twenty years later, now, as a 34-year-old gay man professionally writing on cinema and television, I see it as my duty to never shut up about how representation matters. Streaming LGBTQ+ shows on various platforms, seeing widely released, mainstream LGBTQ+ films, listening to the music of openly LGBTQ+ stars, and hearing words of wisdom like “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”, I am confident that the personal, inner bully that I created twenty years ago would not survive a week in today’s world.

‘C.R.A.Z.Y.’ (2005)

Jean-Marc Vallée’s C.R.A.Z.Y. (2005) was definitely not the first LGBTQ+ film I ever watched, but it was an invaluable juncture in my life. It was a hot summer in Istanbul, freshman year of college was over. One of my best friends, who had been accompanying me through most of my cinematic discoveries, told me about a French-Canadian film with this guy on the film poster with David Bowie makeup on his face. We headed to an independent theater in Kadıköy to see it.

Zachary Beaulieu was different. As the lone gay son in a family of five boys, he too was forcefully adopting a fictional persona, and his way of escape was music. He was constantly worried about how to be worthy of his parents’ love, how to realize their ideals of him, and how his difference and truth contradicted all of that. Zac’s 1960s basically mirrored my story in the 2000s. I perfectly muted the life-changing enlightenment I was going through and did not vocalize my inner screams.

In two hours, C.R.A.Z.Y. helped me realize my true self and admit my sexual identity after all those years. It was a personal threshold I had been longing to cross… but there was still a lot to go through.

‘Les Amours Imaginaires’ (Heartbeats, 2010)

Liking someone, falling for someone, being loved, dating someone, sex, refusals, misinterpretations, heartbreaks, break-ups, bad sex. On the other side of the closet, I was being introduced to new, sometimes euphoric, sometimes gut-wrenching experiences. But coming out to my friends was still a challenge. I was feeling so lonely keeping all these wonderful and horrible experiences in my chest.

But I was not alone: LGBTQ+ films were my life’s understudy. The same heartbreaks, worries, and disappointments I was going through were right there on the silver screen. I took note as two best friends, Francis and Marie, fall for the same guy and navigate their friendship in Xavier Dolan’s Les Amours Imaginaires (Heartbeats, 2010). I studied how a popular student, Jarle, falls for the new guy in school, but cannot risk his reputation to be with him in Stian Kristiansen’s Mannen som Elsket Yngve (The Man Who Loved Yngve, 2008) and I watched as close friends Tobi and Achim become lovers, until one’s need to keep everything secret threatens to destroy the relationship in Marco Kreuzpaintner’s Sommersturm (Summer Storm, 2004).

Things were not always accessible via online platforms and the internet, so film festivals were often the only chance to see the latest independent and queer films. Two of the biggest film festivals in Istanbul, thankfully, had LGBTQ+-focused sections; !f’s Gökkuşağı (Rainbow) and Istanbul Film Festival’s Nerdesin aşkım? (Where are you, my love?) felt like home.

‘Tomboy’ (2011)

Being the lone avid cinephile among my friends, I was used to seeing half of my festival picks alone. Even before coming out to myself, my hopes for a romantic relationship included, among other things, having a festival partner. When I, fortunately, found the one, I was delighted to have also found the perfect festival partner. Shortly after our first month together, the first film we saw at a film festival was Céline Sciamma’s Tomboy (2011).

Although I was a 24 year old cis man, I was more than able to empathize with the title character, a ten-year-old trans boy. With his family unaware of his true identity, Mickaël experiences the liberation of a fresh start when ‘mistaken’ for a boy after they move to a new neighborhood—finally able to introduce himself as Mickaël, not Laure.

Changing my career path, a new job in the creative industry, and a stable relationship had similar effects on me. I was still not completely out to my parents, or some of my friends, schoolmates, and acquaintances from my past, but I was freed of the obligation to explain anything to my new friends or colleagues. I would proudly introduce them to my boyfriend, or simply correct people by saying I was attracted to men during a conversation. The perfect festival partner turned out to be a perfect partner as well—over the past ten years, he has helped me grow and be proud of myself.

‘Weekend’ (2011)

We moved in together in the fifth year of our relationship. Right above our bed hangs a poster of Andrew Haigh’s Weekend (2011). At the time we saw it, it was just another film that we watched together and liked—no significance, no symbolism. It is the story of two young men, Russell and Glen, who are fascinated by the connection they find between each other, and are surprised how their one-night-stand evolved into the perfect weekend. When Glen reveals that he will be leaving for another country the very next day, it only makes their connection stronger, and their time together more precious. Being a timid and socially anxious person, none of my romantic relationships or my friendships had formed this organically. Even my first date with my partner was a disaster. We built what we have now over time, slowly and patiently. I did not believe in ‘weekends’.

And yet, one summer night, we met a guy on Grindr, as we occasionally did. What we thought was just another one night stand was in fact a transformative experience for us both. Intense conversation, a triple connection, the drinks we enjoyed instead of hurrying to bed, and the passionate sex turned that casual one-night-stand into a magical reality for us. We realized that we still had feelings and instincts to discover in ourselves and in each other. Over a week-long, unexpected, unpredictable polyamorous fling, we learned to act as one instead of two—only to find out that he was leaving for another country the very next week. This was our ‘weekend’.

‘Hamam’ (Steam: The Turkish Bath, 1997)

Thinking how LGBTQ+ films of other cultures and languages had played a significant role in some precious, threshold-crossing moments of my life, it was alienating not being able to feel embraced and represented openly in Turkish cinema. There were certainly multiple Turkish LGBTQ+ films or characters, but they were in films addressing more urgent issues—right to live, violence against LGBTQ+ individuals, honor murders, trans murders—rather than the nuanced experience of queer love.

Although I discovered it years after it was released, Italian-Turkish director Ferzan Özpetek’s Hamam (Steam: The Turkish Bath, 1997) was a mind-blowing experience for me. The relationship, and the sexual tension, between Francesco, the Italian heir to a building with a Turkish bath in it, and Mehmet, the young son of the family managing the compound, felt much closer to my story and my cultural, familial identity.

Aşk, Büyü vs. (Love, Spells and All That, 2019)

Today, I am glad to see more and more filmmakers finding the courage to maintain the LGBTQ+ narrative in Turkish cinema, despite the oppressive, intolerant and exclusionary policies. Some are telling the youthful, urban stories I was longing for at the time: In Leyla Yılmaz’s Bilmemek (Not Knowing, 2019), Umut, a high-school athlete from a middle-class family in Istanbul, is bullied by his so-called modern and open-minded teammates after not replying to a query about whether he is gay or not. In Ümit Ünal’s Aşk, Büyü vs. (Love, Spells and All That, 2019), Eren and Reyhan, two adult women reunite in the magical atmosphere of The Princes’ Islands on the Istanbul coast, decades after they were forcefully separated by their parents.

The story of me coming out to myself all started with an urge to escape reality through cinema, and on the way, I found films that gave meaning to my muddled existence. When I saw Levan Akin’s And Then We Danced (2019), I smiled as I noticed the Spirited Away poster in Merab’s room; this minor detail another reminder that I was not alone. Merab, a gay dancer who is part of a very traditional and conservative Georgian dance company, was dealing with similar challenges in his life. He was trying to discover his true identity in a society that does not celebrate being different. He was too, finding an escape in cinema.

Coming out was hard. It still is. A recent Instagram post by the 27-year-old actor Connor Jessup, who came out as gay two years ago, reminded me coming out is not a single moment, but a never-ending process, a ‘becoming’. He writes, “When I first came out, a friend wrote to me and said, ‘Now you can really start coming out.’ Start? I thought. I just did it. But he was right. […] I’m going to keep trying. I’m going to keep looking.”

I keep trying, and looking. Learning about myself, my identity, my relationship. And LGBTQ+ films keep helping and inspiring me, just as they did in my journey to accept myself and become the person I am today. This is the power of cinema; unconsciously, you see your past, actuality and possibilities through the stories filmmakers tell. And I am so grateful to these filmmakers.

Related content

The Ten Greatest Turkish Films of All Time, according to the Turkish Film Critics’ Association

Emre’s Favorite LGBTQ+ Films: a personal top 50

Queer Films in Turkish Cinema—a list by Atakan

The Top 100 Turkish Movies of the 21st Century: Emre’s personal favorites

[nyctophilin]

PSA

Looks like I am back at it again a few days later. Lately it has been the day and the PSA, the day and the PSA around here. Isn’t it lovely? It is like people are trying to piss me off. Let’s get into this, shall we?

Warning: In this post I will be discussing pedophilia, minor bullying, disclosing of personal information without consent, minors engaging in nsfw and adults. If any of those make you uncomfortable, please proceed with caution.

If my last post was not discussing minors engaging in NSFW, this one does. It is wrong, I know this. We all know this. So then, why aren’t we treating everyone equally? Why is it bad when some minors do it, but when others do it, it is good? Why doesn’t everyone get the same amount of hate or support? Why is that? Please, someone help me understand!

Some minors on here write smut and engage in NSFW role playing and also interact with adults a lot older than them and this is totally wrong! First of all, it is illegal and second of all, it can get them in problems and the adults they are interacting with, as well. If there are minors engaging in the NSFW part of the community, they should sit themselves down, think about what they are doing and stop doing it. There are so many more things that you could be doing at your age than put yourself in such danger. Please, seriously think about this!

Now, the problem here lies, especially for me, when adults know who are minors around here and pick and choose who to hate. They will be bullying a minor smut writer on the dash while engaging in NSFW role playing with another one in DMs. I feel like if you are going to advocate for minors not engaging in NSFW activities, you should apply it to everyone. You don’t get to pick your favourite minors and give them special treatment. So if you are going to bully this one minor that is not your friend, then you should bully the one that is your friend as well. Because remember, the law is the same for everyone and so should be your behaviour.

So stop the favouritism regarding this matter! I know for a fact that there are adult on this site that know who the minors around here are and they are protecting some, while throwing the others to the lions(aka other adults). You either support them all, or hate them all. There should not be an in between here. Because not all the minors you decided to hate will be afraid of you(as I am sure that you hope) and some of them will expose you for the pedophile that you are.

Now, I am not advocating for hating minors, like I stated in my previous post. It doesn’t matter if they engage in NSFW or not, you should not send them hate. I know that this might be a foreign subject to some of you, but you can solve most problems by respectfully talking to the person. Crazy, am I right? I feel like some of you are trying to villainize minors engaging in NSFW when you haven’t ever talked to that person. Most of them really do not realize the consequences of their actions and again, I feel like you don’t understand that! Most adults like to picture minors as brainless creatures walking around doing useless shit until they turn 18 and yet, you refuse to understand that they make mistakes too.

BREAKING NEWS: Minors make mistakes! Who would have thought? And they make the same mistakes as you did when you were their age. I am sure that none of you can watch me in the eyes and tell me that they have never interacted with NSFW content when they were a minor. Unless you were living at the edge of the world with only water and food. So this being said, some of you have NO RIGHT to judge minors as hard as you do. You were exactly the same, Susan. Don’t act so innocent!

You, as an adult, really don’t have to cuss a minor out, insult them, bully them, put them in danger in order to get your points across. I am sick and tired of “call-out” posts, “exposing” posts, “spilling the tea” posts! STOP! Have some of you ever tried talking to the minor? Have you ever slid into a person’s DMs and said “Hey! I heard that you are a minor writing smut. Let’s talk about this because this is not okay.”. Have you? I bet not! When most of you find out that someone is a minor engaging in NSFW, you go “They are trying to get ME in jail? I think not! Blocked! Exposed! Your mom is stupid!”. Get the fuck out of here with this! Not everything is about you Susan! Get your head out of your own ass!

And can you, pleeeease, stop posting PERSONAL INFORMATION in your call-out posts, if you decide to go on with them? “I aS aN AdUlT tHiNk ThAt If i KnOw SoMeOnE iS a MiNoR, i ShOuLd LeT oThEr AdUlTs KnOw!”. Okay Susan, but you know you can do it without posting personal information about the minor? You don’t need to expose their age or other type of personal information you know about them in that post. You can just say that they are a minor and call it a day. First of all, minor engaging in NSFW or not, that person trusted you with this kind of information, you trust breaking asshole, and second of all, you are exposing the personal information to all the pedophiles out there. I know that some of you have never thought of this like that, but let’s think about it like that together.

You expose that minor’s personal information. You expose their age and name and location and a pedophile sees it. Since all the non-pedophiles here are ganging up against them and basically bullying them, the pedophile will step in. They will befriend the minor and support them engaging in NSFW. “You can continue writing this! They are just overreacting.”, “I really like your posts! Don’t listen to them.”, “I will always be by your side. You can trust me!” and the minor won’t listen to you, who are attacking them and they will listen to their new friend. And this is how they will end up being groomed and maybe worse.

I know that some of you will think that what I just said is fiction. When will that ever happen, am I right? But it does happen. You need to understand that those call-out posts put minors in very bad places mentally and a pedophile will take advantage of that. While it is better to not make this kind of posts at all, if you end up making them, you say that they are a minor period. You end your sentence there. You know that you can be put in jail for revealing a minor’s personal information without their parents’ consent, right?

Also, why THE FUCK, do some of you make this kind of posts when the person you are targeting is in a hiatus/inactive? This is how big of a coward you are? You don’t even leave them the chance to defend themselves? And not at how you make this kind of posts, that will make them look like a “hero” in the eyes of other adults right before hitting a milestone. How convenient!

Now, as you can see, I have mentioned pedophiles quite a few times in this post and I am about to discuss more behaviours perpetuated by adults, that can be considered threatening to minors. There are a few, what I like to consider threats, living around us. They are writers, just like us, but they protect minors engaging in NSFW from getting exposed. You can take my words for it or not, that is your choice. Personally, I consider an adult interacting with people they know are minors and protecting them from getting expose, very suspicious as it is. If you do not, that’s a you problem!

A lot of those people will make posts about how they don’t want to interact with minors and how they feel uncomfortable around them as a cover up. However, those posts don’t mean that they don’t engage in NSFW with minors. It’s the same way minors will make/reblog posts how they don’t want minors interacting with them to mask the fact that they are minors. Those two go hand in hand.

First of all, you don’t need to necessarily engage in NSFW role playing with a minor for you to be a threat. You can also just make sexual innuendos and jokes towards them. They are not harmless! A 20 something years old adult telling a 16 years old that “They make them feel subby.” is not funny, nor is it a harmless joke. A 20 something years old telling a 15 years old to “Fuck them into the mattress.” it’s again not funny, nor harmless. You as an adult should not be interacting in this way with a minor even as a joke.

When someone tells you that they are in high school, you shouldn’t be saying “I don’t know how old that is, but don’t tell me because that means that I cannot approve of you interacting with my works or with me after that.”. You should be asking for their age and kicking them the fuck out of your blog if they are a minor. If you are so hard on minors not interacting with you, then why would you let a possible minor still interact with you?

The age of consent is not the age of adulthood and you made that very clear. Then why would you say that it’s okay for some minors to write smut if they reached the age of consent? Don’t you stand by your own principles? Or are those minors special?

Also, not talking about adults that knew that some writers were minors for a few months, interacted with them in NSFW ways then probably realized they can be put in jail for that so they exposed them themselves. But of course that they let the part where they knew about their age for months and the NSFW interactions out of that. They acted like they were so shocked by that, when in reality they weren’t because they knew all along.

But in conclusion, every adult that knows that a minor is engaging in NSFW and they are covering up for them and even getting involved with the minor, is a threat. If you don’t think that, then you are part of the problem as well.

Now, something I want to address to the readers. If the owner of a smut blog that you follow has been accused of being a minor, you shouldn’t believe that it’s just a hater spewing lies. You don’t actually know the person behind the blog. They could have lied about everything. It’s not healthy to put some people on a high pedestal and worship every thing they do and say. I know that for some of you it’s hard to let go of your masturbation material providers, but you have to look at things from a rational perspective.

They haven’t been accused of pushing their sibling out of their way and you wouldn’t believe that because they are such a nice person. They have been accused of being a minor that writes smut, engages in NSFW and so on. This is a serious accusation and you should take it as it. You don’t just casually throw this kind of accusations because you are bored. The person that did that must have a reason. Maybe they are wrong and the person is not a minor and the whole thing was just a misunderstanding, but you can’t just dismiss it completely. You have to take into account that that person might actually be a minor.

So next time something like this happens, you should probably give it more thought. And you should also pay attention to the way the author handles the whole thing. You’ll get all the answers you need from that without anyone having to confirm whether they are a minor or not. Remember that worshiping content creators is not good, is not healthy. For both parts. Be more self aware. Also, I want to state that I am not making any claims or assumptions. This is just to make everyone have a more realistic view towards the whole situation.

And with that I have finished this whole post. I hope everyone read it carefully and are actually giving some thought to everything that I just said. Minors engaging in NSFW is a bad thing, but we should handle it properly. Stop with the blatant hate and handle the situation like an adult. 

Thank you for reading this! I hope everyone stays safe and healthy.

[girlbabyvelez]

Royals // Chapter Seven

Summary: Joel finally gets the letter about the wedding date and is on his way to see you while the King of Ecuador finds out the truth about you and your traitorous actions.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: mentions of cheating, treason and murder

July 1

Joel, 

I’m writing with big news from Ecuador and some changes in our alliance. King Manuel has set the date for Chris and I’s wedding during the announcement of our engagement. It’s set to be on July 18 which is sooner than expected but it cannot be changed. Every ambassador and royal from South American countries have already heard and we need them ready to support Joel on the throne. But I cannot be married without you guys here, please hurry. 

I love you all. Mi familia es mi fuerza y los necesito aquí.

Princessa Y/N

Joel’s eyes scanned over the letter one more time, he was in disbelief at the notice. Joel should have expected that King Manuel would pull something like this, Ecuador was desperate as the situations between Colombia and Ecuador got worse, they couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Now he needed to pack and leave as soon as possible, he wouldn’t let his sister go through this alone since she was doing this for him. 

He quickly stood up from his chair, folding the letter back up neatly before exiting his room and heading to the throne room where he knew his mother would be, planning and talking with the nobles to sway them to crown him king. The corridors seemed long and winding but eventually he made it to his mother. 

“Mother.” He called her attention, every noble turning to respectfully bow at him. He smiles at them before his mother joins his side. He led her away from all of the nobles and deeper into the corridors, once he knew it was safe he turned to his mother and handed her the letter.

“The wedding is a little over two weeks away. We need to leave now.” Joel whispers to his mother as she quickly scans your letter. She shakes her head in disappointment before looking back at her son. 

“I cannot believe them. But you’re right. We don’t have enough time. Go pack your things mijo.” Your mother demands as she hands the letter back to him. He nods at her words but she continues her demands. “You are going to go with Israel. The nobles are still wary so I can’t leave but once they are married you will need to return for your coronation.” 

“She’s going to be upset that you aren’t there.” Joel whispers. He knew that it was a tough situation for her to be put in and if it wasn’t for the future of Mexico then your mother would be by your side. “I’ll be by her side the entire time.” 

“Gracias mijo. Give her my veil and love.” Your mother whispers as she turns to push him to pack but before he leaves she speaks again. “Make sure that she’s happy and protected Joel.”

~

The room was dark, private, and quiet as it always was when they met. They were away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears that came with the castle and court members. This was the most lonely inn at the closest village which was beneficial for them. This was how they had been meeting for months, discussing their plan.

He knew by the placement of the moon that it was well past midnight and she would be joining him soon. The two of them had become as thick as thieves, planning the ultimate plan of sabotage. They each had their own reasons of course, she did it because she loved Chris and he did it for his country. 

“Salazar?” She whispered as she stepped into the room at the inn. He stood up from his place on the edge of the bed and stood up to greet the girl. He closes the door behind her and locks it, ensuring maximum privacy from the rest of the world. This still needed to be kept under wraps.

“Evalia. Have you heard anything?” He questioned as he led her to sit down on the bed beside him. She nods at his words and a smile crosses her face at the thought of the good news.

“The king is getting suspicious of you and Y/N. Just a few more sightings and he will know.” She tells him. She was close to getting you out of the picture, the plan had been working successfully.

“Okay. That’s good. And how are you doing with Chris?” 

“He’s still avoiding me. But once Y/N is known as a traitor I will be there for him.”

“You need to work faster Evalia. Once the alliance is broken, Colombia will move in. And we need to be sure that Chris will never be a threat again.”

~ 

July 3

The wedding was 15 days away. 15 days of your freedom left and each day seemed to be getting harder for you. Chris refused to leave your side whenever you were in public, it was his way to keep his eye on you and keep his parents happy. But what he didn’t know was that Salazar kept meeting you in secret, trying to get you to make the alliance with him. Your mind and soul were torn, you didn’t want to betray Christopher and the alliance you had for the majority of your life, but you also didn’t want to be trapped with Chris in a miserable marriage for the rest of your life. You had already experienced happiness with him and the pain he caused you took away all of your hope and happiness. So today you found yourself distracting yourself from your thoughts. You lounged in the library, holding tightly onto the book in your hand as you allowed yourself to be taken to another world.

“How are you doing?” You heard him ask which effectively pulled you from the happy fictional world to the terrible reality you were living. You sighed and flick your eyes from the pages over to Christopher, who was leaning against one of the bookcases with his arms crossed as he just stared at you.

“And what do you care Prince?” You retort before focusing on your book again.

“Come on, humor your fiance.” He walks over to the table you were lounging at and sitting before you. You roll your eyes at him but continue to keep your eyes focused on the book instead of Christopher. There was still plenty of thoughts and emotions to unpack with him and you weren’t ready. 

“I’m fine.” You lied but you couldn’t fool him, he learned how to read you over the past few months. But he knew that you weren’t going to be willing to open up to him anytime soon.

“What are you reading?” He asks, easily changing the subject. You just wanted him to leave you alone, you didn’t want to have a conversation with him. 

“Just a story about two lovers.” You answer quietly. He watches you for a moment, your eyes scanned the book in front of you and you looked tired and sad. He knew that it was his fault, the night with Evalia should have never happened yet it did. He just wanted to turn back time and make things normal, he wanted to relive the happy moment when you confessed your love for each other. 

“Can we talk?” He questions as his emotions run high at the memory. 

“About what? You made yourself pretty clear last week.” You snap. 

“At least hear my side of the story.” But you shake your head at his words. You knew that the only thing that would come out of his mouth were going to be excuses. You were worth more than that, you deserve the truth. 

“No. You don’t get to cheat on me then proceed to make excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses. Come on like you didn’t betray me when you went to Salazar.” He retorts. This causes you to slam the book down on the table and look at him with anger in your eyes once again. You couldn’t believe that he was throwing that in your face again when you would have never turned to Salazar if Chris hadn’t cheated on you like that.

“First off, I didn’t sleep with Salazar-” 

“No you just became a traitor.” He barks at you. You sigh and rub your hand across your face. You were frustrated and tired of this constant back and forth with Chris. You felt yourself slouch in the chair and look at Chris. He looked at you and he was instantly filled with guilt for snapping at you. You looked even more tired than before if it was possible.

“Chris why are you here? I just want some peace and quiet.” You whisper softly. 

“Because we need to figure this out. We will be tied together for the rest of our lives. We have 15 days to get it together Y/N.” He says truthfully.

“To get what together Chris? We can’t even have a simple conversation without being at each other’s throats.” 

“So let’s figure it out.” 

“I can’t. Not right now.” You say. He sighs at your words and you quickly get up without putting the book away.  “I need to go get ready for tonight.” And with that you left him sitting at the table alone, the book was now in his hand as he watched you walk away. 

~

The guard stood quietly, hidden in the shadows as he kept a close eye on you. He had seen you speaking to Salazar earlier and now he was watching as Salazar grabbed onto your arm and pulled you into another corridor. He knew what this meant and his duty was fulfilled. He turned on his heel as he walked into the King’s office, quickly bowing before stepping up to King Manuel.

“My lord. You were right. Princess Y/N is conspiring with the enemy.” The guard spoke once the King waved his hand, signaling he could speak. The King looked from the letters on his desk to the guard, fury crossing every feature of his face. 

“Bring my wife and son. We need to discuss the future of our alliance with Mexico.” He orders once he was able to fully process what this meant for the future of his country and the future of his son. 

“Yes sir.” And the guard quickly left, looking for the prince and the queen as quickly as possible. 

Soon Queen Yenny and Christopher had found themselves in the King’s private office. He sat tall and serious as he looked at his queen and son. And he held Ecuador’s copy of the alliance with you and Chris in his hands, holding it dangerously close to the fire of one of his candles. Chris watched in confusion at his father’s actions, wanting to step forward to ensure the contract was safe but his father spoke before Chris could say anything.

“The alliance is over. Y/N has been seen with Salazar on multiple occasions.” The King informs. “This is treason and a crime against our family. And she will pay for it.” Chris could feel his heart stop at his father’s word. Even though he should feel angry at you for continuing to see Salazar, he was scared and worried for you. His father would go to great lengths to punish you for it and he knew that his father would take your life for it. He still loved you, even if everything was hard and tense between you, he had grown to love you and that love never leaves easily. But now he needed to save your life.

-

Taglist:  @phanislife124 @bbyyelyah  @zabdisamor @xxxstormyninixxx  @babecita-1 @yashuazbabygirl @getmealifepls @cyaneaa @codename-nyx @cncoh-damn @mamacamacho @smoljoelito @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @ladykxxx08 @la-undercover-latina @lostpil52 @undeadspazzattack @plentyoffandomss @babyyynatty @juneninetynine @cnchoe-imagines @valeriiaaass @moonlitzabdiel @damnthoseyes  @ourkarlanicoleuniverse @niallisworld @multi-fandomgoddess @california-creator @ ego-allie-bap @zabdicl @chellybear98 @sometimesbadalwaysboujie​ @estoy-enamorado-de-ti @nochillnelly @ericksmamita @cncoamor @you-kinda-smell-like-christmas @pizzaspirits​ @josiemara​ @deniseasonrisa @nqbmf @afro-doll @h-bea92​ @the-almond-dinger​  @miericksongo​ @cncosoftie​  @ohitsnicolexo​  @midnightjmadness

Note: if you still are reading this, ily and the next chapter will have more action hehe and it will be longer. Also an Hasta chapter is coming soon too hehe

[bettsfic]

february pinned: the real & the ideal

in this month’s edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and consultation availability, i have short story recommendations for you and an essay on the nature of reality in fiction! 

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

in other news, i finished two fics this month:

digging for orchids (hualian, 43k, explicit, fake marriage au)

let ruin end here (hualian, 8k, mature, neighbors au)

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

oof,

what a month. january is already a rough time. throwing in a pandemic, a coup, and an economic revolution spearheaded by reddit just seems unfair. as for me personally, the spring semester came at me fast and even though it’s only week 2, i am already buried in grading. which i realize is my fault, considering i’m the one who assigned homework.

so after hearing your feedback, i thought i’d make this newsletter even more writing-related by writing more about writing. this month i’ll start off by talking about the nature of reality in fiction in a segment i call “been thinkin a lot about.” more on that below.

new resource

i’ve compiled a folder of PDFs of the short stories i teach most often, which is to say, the stories i like enough to re-read every semester. most of them are literary fiction but a few veer into fantasy, sci fi, and horror.

i know before the MFA, i didn’t really know what a short story was. like i knew, abstractly, the concept of a short story (it is as it sounds), but i could only list a couple i’d ever read as an adult, and i hadn’t read anything that had been published in the last decade. i remember wondering why i was even being asked to care about short stories. who writes short stories? who reads them? apparently, a lot of people. short storyists are a lot like fanwriters in that they make no money and when you talk about your writing in public, people give you that “why would anyone waste their time with that?” look.

so here’s why i was asked to care about short stories: a good short story gives you the entirety of a world in a very condensed space. moreover, it can sometimes leave you as satisfied as a novel in a fraction of the reading time. all the stories i’ve compiled here are ones that stuck with me, that i find myself recommending over and over to writers who want a good example of developing character, or weird narration, or establishing stakes.

if you’re a writer considering publication or an MFA in creative writing, i highly recommend familiarizing yourself with short stories, if for no other reason than to get the feel for them so you can write some of your own. if you can get a few short story publications under your belt, it’ll be easier to open doors when you’re ready to query agents for a novel. also, short stories make a great writing sample for grad programs, workshops, fellowships, residencies, and grant funding.

if you want to check out more short stories but have no idea where to start, the 2020 best american short stories just dropped in november, or if you want a cheaper one, used copies of 2019 and earlier are available on thriftbooks. if you want an overview of the history of the (american) short story, there’s also the best american short stories of the century. fair warning, though, while it’s more diverse than expected, it’s still a bit heavy on dead-white-dude writing.

content warning: the stories in the above-linked folder may depict instances of sexual assault, suicide, and/or abuse. i have not labeled them individually with warnings but i hope to soon, as well as provide a catalog with summaries.

i’m also still working on my essay and novel recs. more to come on that hopefully next month.

writing-related posts

how i quit my banking job to do a creative writing MFA

how i learned to read faster/stop subvocalizing

how to write when you have no time or energy to write

my experience writing fic in small/dead fandoms (aka fics that will probably not get any traffic)

how to describe facial expressions

how to ask for help from your professors

how to navigate tenses during flashbacks

how to separate yourself from your work

how (and why you might want to) write a shitty first draft

why you should consider making the climax the inciting incident

for a complete list of my writing-related posts, check out this masterdoc (which i still need to update it with the past few months’ posts).

stuff i’m into rn

i’m about halfway through the rhetoric of fiction by wayne c. booth which has more or less become my narrative bible. it’s a little dated (1961) but it tackles banal writing adages that are somehow still believed, like “show don’t tell” and whatnot, and breaks them down with amazing insight, clarity, and research. it’s a bit of a dense text so i’m only reading a few pages a day, i think the first time i’ve ever let myself read something so intentionally slowly. now i’m kind of obsessed with doing things slowly. reading slowly, writing slowly, cooking slowly. i even drive slowly, because it’s so rare to go anywhere at all, and i want to enjoy it. also, it’s very snowy where i am. also also, the battery died in my car this month and i really have to make it a point to drive more often.

february availability

i have 2 openings for initial writing consultations in february! if you’re interested, please fill out this google form.

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

been thinkin a lot about

compulsory reality in fiction. many of us have probably received feedback along the lines of, or thought to ourselves as we read, “that’s not realistic.” many of us believe, consciously or not, that fiction that is more “realistic” is inherently better than fiction that is less “realistic.” for some of us, real means a saturation of details, the clear depiction of the surfaces of things. reality is found in the rendering thereof; if you can “see” it, it’s real. for others of us, it might be the development of complex characters and their growth across a narrative. and for yet others, reality is subtlety, or misery, or the idea of “slice of life,” a term i don’t think means anything, because aren’t all stories a slice of a character’s life? what would a story that’s not a slice of life look like? you’d either have to take away the “slice” part and render a whole life, which is impossible, or you’d have to take away the “life” part and create a dead story, which may be possible, but why would you want to? even if you wrote a story about a rock, the rock would be brought to life by virtue of being written about.

anyway. i think the word “real” is a shitty word for the same reason “slice of life” is a shitty phrase: everything is real and therefore nothing cannot be real. slices of life are all we know because we are alive and cannot truly perceive not being alive; reality is also all we know, and any depictions beyond reality are thus made real because they have been depicted.

so the “goal” for fiction to be “realistic” seems to me to be a false one. all fiction is real because it exists and no fiction can be truly real because it’s only a facsimile of reality. not to get all “this is not a pipe” but writing is just making squiggles, and we as a community of English-knowers agree that certain squiggles correspond to certain sounds, and certain sounds together make words which conjure meanings. and words put together into sentences into paragraphs conjure even more complicated meanings. and when those paragraphs are woven into narrative we create yet more and more complicated meaning.

every time you write anything — a text message, an email, a tweet, a fanfic — you are taking the infinite abstraction of your own cognition, narrowing it into a single concept, and representing that concept with patterns in the form of sounds represented by letters and given meaning with words, so that the infinite abstraction of your own conscience can be fractionally witnessed by the infinite abstraction of someone else’s. and even though we can’t definitively prove for ourselves that any other thing possesses a consciousness, writing shows us the shape of someone else’s mind, and tells us we are not alone.

and yet we still expect writing to be “real.”

have you ever read a story where a character sneezed? like just, a description of a sneeze for the sake of it, with no purpose or function in the plot? if not, is it because our characters aren’t real enough to sneeze, or because the sneeze isn’t relevant to their plight? what would a written sneeze look like, and why would somebody want to write it? moreover, why would somebody want to read it? that leads me to wonder, do we depict reality in the service of narrative, or narrative in the service of reality? in other words, do we write to portray reality (sans sneezing), or do we depict reality to constrain our writing, the way one might request bumpers when bowling so as not to fall in the gutters?

i’ve never read an artful rendition of a character pissing or shitting, either, even when those things are related to a character’s plight and circumstance — stories involving long road trips, living in the woods, being kidnapped. the only exception i can think of is when those things are eroticized (we do not kinkshame here in this lkwrnl), the same way it’s rare to find detailed sex writing that isn’t for the purpose of reader arousal. are there just some things about the nature of being human that are too intimate, too complex, or too boring to write?

once i wrote a murder that takes place in a small fictional midwestern town in the 90s (for the ~aesthetic), and it went uninvestigated by said town’s police force. early readers repeatedly commented along the lines of, “that’s not realistic.” and i thought, no, if anything, the incompetence of police is too realistic for the heightened reality i’m trying to render. have you ever heard of a cop solving a murder that didn’t come with an obvious suspect or immediately found evidence? i haven’t. that doesn’t mean those cases don’t exist, but i definitely think they’re less likely than mass media has us believe, and the average small-town police force has far less motivation (and possibly training) to solve crimes than we think.

i started working on the above-mentioned novel in 2016, and my goal was to depict a reality that hovers above the surface of plausibility. in this novel, which is based on macbeth, a preteen girl, mercy, becomes jealous of the love her best friend elisa shows to her father. mercy decides to get her older and very unstable brother to kill him. naturally the deed goes awry, but it does occur, and the cleanup is far messier than anticipated.

is it plausible for a 12 year old girl to plot and execute the murder of her best friend’s father? no. is that what this book is about? yes. a book about a 12 year old girl who has a perfectly healthy relationship with her best friend and who has no feelings toward her bff’s father one way or another is probably far more “realistic,” but that’s not the book i’d want to read and certainly not the one i want to write. my goal of a heightened reality is what henry james calls the intensity of illusion, the thing that allows a reader, through the witness of one’s distilled cognition into language, to exit physical, knowable reality, and enter a new and unknown reality. and isn’t climbing to that higher place, that intensity of illusion, the purpose of fiction? if it’s not, what is?

the best feedback i got on the aforementioned murder scene was from one of my professors, who, of the perfect calm of all children involved, said, “they just shot a guy. at least one of them would be freaking out.”

he was totally right, but it opened up a lot of questions for me. by what standard did he reach that conclusion? was it something in the chapter itself, was it his personal understanding of the work of narrative, or was it the logical conclusion of the slim plausibility of the scenario? moreover, where did i come up with the idea that all of my preteen characters would commit a murder and proceed to be very chill about it? if an implausible scenario begs the expectation of emotional distress, would it be more compelling to buy into that expectation or deviate from it? is it even my obligation to be compelling when i can never have a cogent grasp of the personal tastes of my audience?

that brings me to what appears to be reality’s opposite: idealism, the state those of us who write fanfic are often trying to achieve. we’re working in an entire genre of ideals, of happily ever afters, of hurt that is always followed by comfort, of glossily rendered sex during which everyone orgasms and no one has to pee afterward. we fix broken texts and continue incomplete ones. sometimes, we want to make existing things better, deeper, more complicated. but all the time, we want to make a text more than what it is.

some see this process, this drive for the ideal, as antithetical to realism, and i think that’s part of the reason fanfiction and other idealistic genres (romance, etc.) get a bad name — the assumption that more real (which for some means more miserable) is better, and therefore its opposite, the ideal, is worse. for them, i have this quote from vladimir nabokov:

For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm.

the ideal, aesthetic bliss, the intensity of illusion. these are all phrases that boil down to the same thing: you the writer get to define the constraints of your own reality. you get to choose if your world even complies with the known laws of physics. and if it doesn’t, you get to choose which ones to break, and why to break them. you get to choose if your stories take place in a real house in a real town on a real day. if you wrote a story that takes place on september 11, 2001, would the events of that story be shaped by the events of that actual day, or are you writing a better world where 9/11 doesn’t happen? consider the consequences of both: why might you want to write reality? why might you want to write ideality? how do these things shape your identity and goals as a writer?

no matter where a work falls on the real-ideal spectrum, you have to accept that prose itself will only ever be a verisimilitude of reality and therefore an interpretation of it, one that might be interpreted differently by a reader. in writing and everything else, you can never have complete control over what others perceive. it’s like giving someone cash as a gift. they might buy themselves something nice with it, or they might spend it on groceries. the point is, eventually we all have to let go of our realities.

[werevulvi]

So I've been away from tumblr for a while. Not sure how long. Maybe a month? I'm writing a book (fiction) so I've been and still am busy with more fulfilling distractions from reality than social media. The book I'm writing is about a woman, Olga, who's transitioning like me, but then she's an assassin. I don't wanna get into all the itty gritty details of that until I'm done, but writing that book has been serving as a great distraction from my gender issues. Except I need to take breaks from my hyper-focused super intense writing spree at times to not accidentally boil my brain. What? Is working on a project for 10+ hours a day, every day, for over a month a little much? Sorry I can't hear you over my autistic hyperfocus. And those breaks get me tossed right back into... mostly dysphoria. That’s what I wanted to rant about.

I know this is an unfair accusation, but sometimes I wonder just how paranoid and anxious feminism has made me. I fully abhor victim mentality, but sometimes reading feminist posts, articles, etc, about the various evils of men (crime statistics, female victims' accounts of male violence, etc) makes me feel... like a victim, and hopeless, for being female. And it requires a lot of effort to dig myself out of that pit. I need to remind myself that I can trust men, that most of them are not violent, that they're not the real enemy, and that women are not so different from men. Otherwise what? Otherwise I'd give into my PTSD and get drowned out by my dysphoria.

PTSD says all men are dangerous and want my pussy, either to harm it or fuck it. PTSD says it's my fault I'm a victim of sexual trauma, because I am female. And I dunno why, but sometimes feminism echoes that sentiment, and that's not great for my recovery, or my long term pursuit of happiness. Dysphoria says I'm too different from men and that's why I hate being female. Dysphoria doesn't want any special treatment just because I'm female. Feminism echoes what my dysphoria says, sometimes, and that's not great. Dysphoria wants equal treatment. Receiving equity due to my "failed" sex feels like... I dunno, like wanting to crawl out of my fucking skin and set it on fire, I suppose. Bad female skin humiliating me. Because that again reminds me that my sex being female is what's wrong, and not the treatment of women as "weaker" and more emotionally frail. Then my solution is to get rid of my femaleness, so that I can be strong, fast and free. Independent enough to open a fucking jar. I feel trapped in the unfairness itself.

I still want to be different from women, not from men. I want to stand out among women, and I'm jokingly boasting about how I'm such an NLOG (Not Like Other Girls) and proud to be different, in masculine ways. I'm proud to be hairier, having a deeper voice, and that female socialization didn't stick to me as much. And likewise, I feel good when I'm similar to men, blend in among them, am compared to them as an equal to them, and that I managed to pick up on some male socialization. This is more subconscious, and not something I really think about.

I still wish I was male, and that impossible dream still hurts, I guess. I've been trying to distract myself from those thoughts by writing my book and... having sexual fantasies in which I am male. Clearly my own home made therapy that made me connect somewhat with being female (3 years ago) was ineffective in the long run, but now I can't possibly make myself believe I'm a man again, just because I still/again wish I was male. It comes and goes, yes, but it's seemingly in a curvy line that over time points me in the dysphoric direction, and not in the desisting direction. And that's what's so hard. That I basically have to force myself to this realization that... I can't talk myself out of my dysphoria, and that that little bit of connection I got to my sex 3 years ago, was an appetizer for a meal I'll never have. That feels cruel.

And I keep telling myself I don't have dysphoria. Nah, I'm just transitioning for the heck of it. If only!

I don't wanna be trans, and I don't wanna be dysphoric. I wanna be male, but that's different. I can't even see myself as a man simply because I am not male and can never be. Thus, I'm a woman, and unhappy with it. Yet, I clearly can't function as a woman socially either, and that frustrates me. I'm happy that I can look and sound so convincingly male in my appearance, and I'm really excited to go back on testosterone, but I... I feel trapped, in a medical condition I cannot escape. And it doesn't matter what fucking caused it, it's not going away! Point is it's not going away! I've tried for sixteen years! I am tired! And now I can't even call myself a man without laughing all the way to hell and back.

Everyone wants to be trans nowadays. Everyone who benefits from a new label. But I don't. Clearly I don't have an easy time with it, and it might be because I just have a shit ton of sex/physical dysphoria, and not even calling myself a man helps. It just adds insult to injury. I don't wanna play pretend, goddamnit, I wanna be a real boy! That's "problematic" to say, because I shouldn't shatter other trans people's dreams. Well, mine's shattered and I wanna whine about it. I don't blame them for their identities. How could I? Ignorance is bliss, and I miss bliss.

I think that's why I feel like I'm a woman who just wishes she was a man, and kinda always have. I wrote it in my diary when I was 16, four years before I even came out as trans, before I knew anything about trans ideology or gender critical or anything, but I knew I was dysphoric and fit the loose criteria for FTM transsexuals, and I didn't like that verdict. It felt like a death sentence, and now... now it feels like a cruel joke.

I don't think I'm really all that different from trans men. De-gendered, perhaps, but still just as bloody dysphoric and still just as much of a testosterone junkie. I'm just a less happy go lightly kinda FtM. I've always been a bit of a nihilist. The "if you leave the half full glass it will eventually dry the fuck out no matter how much water you keep pouring up into it, because the nature of water is to vaporize" -kinda nihilist, not the "the glass is half empty" -kind. Yes, there is a difference. I'm not a pessimist, I'm a hardcore realist, and reality is... being trans sucks and I can't do fucking shit about it. I want a solution, not rose tinted goggles. But at this point, I'd take that too. I've tried... but they keep falling off.

Perhaps I'm too autistic to get gender identity, or maybe I just don't have social dysphoria or gender incongruence, perhaps it just feels so fucking pointless. Words... they're just blah blah blah. They have whatever meaning we put in them. So I changed my personal meaning of "woman" to include my dysphoria and beard, and since then I'm fine with calling myself a woman. But woman is still just a word. It's what I am that I dislike, not what I'm supposed to call it. My problem is not in how people perceive me. They can perceive me as a stranded jelly fish if they so wish, it doesn't change reality that I'm an adult human female. And it's reality, that biological reality, that bothers me.

And I don't like that I realised that, because biological reality is the one thing I can't change. I can change my identity, but my identity as a woman is not the problem. The problem is my sex is still persistently female. And I don't wanna change what is not a problem. Why fix what ain't broken? I get that my sex isn't broken either (well it might be now, considering I've smashed it with testosterone) but I just don't wanna be a woman. Because dysphoria. No point in arguing. It just goes round and round in circles. I can't make a logical argument for why I don't like ketchup either though. It always comes back to "but I just don't like it."

I just get sad, sometimes, over being female, and uncomfortable. And I get envious of men's bodies, and then I get sad I can't have that. And I try to emulate what men's bodies do, which makes me feel a bit better, but then I remember I'm still female, and I try to be okay with that. Sometimes I even half succeed, and feel like "yeah, being a woman is actually kinda badass!" but then I remember that a cranky uterus and estrogen exist in my body, acting as if they want me to suffer a slow (very slow) death, and I get sad again. Is trying to like being a woman even worth it, considering that's mostly been going downhill since I was 3 years old? Well what the hell are my options, aside from that?! Pretending to be a man? Pretending that the nonbinary labels could do anything at all to benefit my existence?

I'm sorry, but I don't see the appeal, in either of those options. I'll try to just exist. That became my focus; just existing. But I can't distract myself 24/7. Because as soon as I stop distracting myself, for even just a minute, I get caught in the inevitable doom that is my dysphoria, and how hopelessly trapped I am inside it.

[thefamilycryptid]

Analyzing Miraculous Ladybug, Episode 1: An Analysis of the Love Square

My friends on discord found out I like analyzing people as both a way to ensure people cant hurt me and as a way to figure out what kind of gift they would like, so they asked me to analyze some of the things in the Miraculous Ladybug Series no clue how many parts of this I’ll do so submit me asks and I’ll work on them :D

@username8746489 asked me my opinion on the Love Square, more specifically if I thought it was healthy or not.

The short version of my answer would be no, I do not believe the Love Square - as the show portrays it - is a healthy relationship. Now I see you Adrinette stans about to reblog this claiming ‘its true love’ but think about it like this; yes they have the possibility to be an amazing ass-kicking couple but their writing is horrid. Lets dissect them individually so we can comprehend how their relationship would function in reality.

Marinette is a canonical stalker, we witness with several times, from Marinette breaking into Adrien’s household (that most likely has a high security system due to the Agreste’s influence) on several occasions.

And instead of intervening and stopping her “bff’s” toxic behavior so she doesn't get arrested later in life Alya enables her behavior and offers her more ideas on how to get with the person she’s ‘meant to be with’. 

As mentioned before she broke into Adrien's house and even went through his locker to steal his phone over nothing more than an embarrassing voice message. She also harassed Kagami because she liked Adrien, and caused her akumatization after calling a fencing match (keep in mind the fact that this is Mari’s first day doing fencing and she barely know’s the rules) in her crushes favor even thought it was obviously a tie. 

She also constantly berates Chat Noir, who - as we already know - is Adrien, if you cannot love all aspects of someone, even the messy and  chaotic sides then you should not be in a relationship. Now this can be justified by the fact that Marinette doesn’t know Adrien is Chat Noir, but it is also no excuse for the way she treats he partner, constantly berating him for every little mistake he makes and treating him like a tasteless sidekick. I get that this is a show about girl power but Ladybug and Chat Noir are supposed to be equals to keep the Creation and Chaos thing in balance right?

And then there is the thing with the pictures, I would understand having one or two pictures of your crush (or maybe more if you are close friends and have taken several photo’s together) but none of the ones in her room are actual photo’s of him, they’re just cut outs from magazine covers Adrien is the center piece of. This isn't anything outright criminal, but it is very odd that instead of making more personal photo’s of him to hang up (maybe them having fun or on a hang out with friends) she chooses to hang up photos of him in his ‘actor mask’.

Now the photo’s are a bit odd but nothing crazy, but what is crazy is the fact she has his whole fucking schedule in her room, like first of all where the fuck did she get it, follow up question why the fuck does she have it. This is extremely alarming and could possibly lead to a court case in reality if someone (like Gabriel or Natalie) were to learn of its existence, Marinette would have a permanent black spot on her record if she didn’t end up being sued (or maybe even arrested) for her actions.

I could bring up plenty more points here such as when she dug through his trash and responded to a poem he had disposed of (then broke into his house to deliver), how she cant even hold a proper conversation with him without foaming from the mouth (something she admits to during the ‘steal Adrien’s phone’ moment), how everything she knows about him most likely comes from A. stalking B. the internet/gossip magazines or C. Alya telling her, how she told Alya to stop taking photos of Adrien unless she sent them to her, and that she confessed her love to him on the anniversary of the day his mother went missing.

But thats enough about Marinette lets move onto Adrien.

Now Adrien has a bit more of an excuse for his less than ideal behavior, he was isolated his whole life and the few relationships he did witness (Chloe and His's Parents) were probably not the best seeing as Gabriel has a tenancy to neglect his child in favor of work it wouldn’t be too surprising if we learned that he neglected his wife as well which was why her condition worsened until she was unsavable and the fact that Aubrey cannot remember her own daughter’s name.

He probably grew up watching rom-coms where the lead love interest bullied/blackmailed/harassed the girl into a relationship and they got married in the end and everything was always ok with no repercussions for their behavior.

Plus Gabriel looks like the type to give the 'its legal if you dont get caught' advice for all the wrong reasons, that accompanied by Chloe ( and later Lila) constantly draping themselves over him like fucking skin shawls, leads to this kid probably having no clue what consent is. 

So far he hasn't done anything too drastic for me to fully pull apart and wack with a stick minus the over-the-top flirting, but a lot of boys his age flirt so thats fine so as long as he doesn't touch Ladybug in a non-consensual way he's mostly ok in my book. 

All-in-all they would be 100% better people if A) They were with other people B) They seek help for their issues or C) They spoke to one another like normal people, until this is shown in the show I deem it a toxic ship.

(Note: Before you come on my case about there being less for Adrien, please keep in mind that Marinette is the main character of this series not him so of course there would be more to dissect about her. We are walked through her daily life, so we see every misdeed and every creepy stalker-ish moment, while we only see Adrien without her a few times, almost all of which are him transforming, or doing something that with offer a chance for Mari to shoot her shot. Please also keep in mind that this isn’t my entire opinion on the matter, I love the characters but I hate their writing, I also encourage to formulate your own opinions on the matter.)

(note for people who may want to ask for analysis’s, please remember I am just a human and I’m not 100% used to typing out whole paragraphs on fictional stuff and my brain tends to wander a lot, this was written during my ‘big brain hours’ sorry if your request isn’t as well done as you would like it to be)