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#or that they don't belong in a community that was built by and for people like them
autisticchangeling · 2 years
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I love that the disability Community exists, but sometimes when I see debates about what counts as disabled versus just an impairment versus whatever...
I wish there could just be a community I could join for people with -whatever- that wouldn't cause me to constantly have to question and prove that I'm really disabled and "I promise I'm not too happy to count as oppressed" and whatever. I don't know, I just sometimes want to be able to share community in the ways the disability community does without having to watch the debates about who really counts and always worrying I'm next.
If there was something for all the people who aren't "struggling enough" to belong in the disability community, I would join it just for the relief from the hypervigilance
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katyspersonal · 2 years
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Upset impossibly at having a kind of a brain that is so different that people are bound to misunderstand my intentions and words all the time. Like, in most of the times you cannot understand me correctly through the prism of 'well why would a normal person without autism and with a perfect grasp on social cues do that?' because I am just really different and end up concluding/saying/doing a thing with different intention and reason that most of the people would. Doesn't help that because of many factors even minimal normal social adaptation got ruined, so even for other autists I am TOO clueless and different.
Sometimes I think maybe I just give up easily. Maybe I could like, memorize 1000000 social cues and habits and why people normally do/say a thing so I could communicate myself right and be perceived right. So I would have to spend absurd amount of energy and focus on running non_autistic_person.exe every day. Until with just enough stress and pain it shuts down and I revert in my default self. But even if I could mask all the time - would this life and friendships even worth it? Would any of this worth it if to hold it all together I have to just pilot a 'normal' persona? Far better to just entrust everything on people who either just believe in me in a good way, or ASK me if something I do or say seems outright bad. They are not frequent, though, I am thankful when I find such people.
#/vent#neurodivergent#i've been told variations of 'amongst all autistic people I've met nobody is THIS bad at understanding human behavior' hahaha#it is very hard to explain that having brain BUILT differently is not the same as mental illness#you cannot really 'treat' how you see the world and how you just perceive things differently. you are just like this.#but it is very hard to find compatibility with the world you just... don't seem to belong to. unless you run ABSURD amount of mimicry#like... nothing is compatible. i either just hurt other people or being yelled at for reasons i see as stupid and that don't get explained#also yes i remember i posted similar rant a few months earlier so feel free to ignore it#this pain just doesn't go away forever unfortunately#it just feels like a bad joke to be born so INCOMPATIBLE with how people work and act and feel that like#i either mimic as normie to the point none of this shit is real me or i remain myself but cause havoc and get yelled at and excluded#it is still better to be closer to understanding what is wrong with me and why people are so hard#just several years ago i did not know how to communicate it or what was the reason#the worst part is that autism effects every other person differently so even other autists are not guaranteed to understand you#especially if they have their own set of 'how to interpret other people' rules they interpret YOU through#and it does not work on you because you are different too but not THEIR type of different#the strangest part is that it is not even static. with every passing year i become more and more 'strange'.#though that's probably not autism but the A-cluster developing and complicating. i will be like bloodborne character soon lol
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misskamelie · 5 months
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Not coming from a family of immigrants but also not coming from a family of not immigrants
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crispycreambacon · 6 months
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The Space Belongs to the Ace
Happy International Asexuality Day! I thought I'd make a tribute not only to all my fellow aces out there but also to space. To me, my asexuality is, on some level, connected to outer space, and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.
If you don't know what I mean by that, let me tell you why.
Space has always meant a lot of me as a kid long before I discovered my asexuality. It is defined as a near-perfect vacuum. Outside of celestial bodies, there is almost nothing out there. No air. No other signs of life as far as we are concerned.
Yet if you look beyond, you can discover something beautiful... You can discover stars that have been here for over a millenia. You can discover spirals that are expanding and will continue to expand. You can discover colours and shapes that can captivate you or even comfort you, telling you that everything will be okay.
That's how I felt when I was finally able to label my experiences. That same wonder astronauts feel when they make a new discovery about space? It is the same wonder I felt when I first heard the term "asexual".
Now there are people who are pushing us out of the LGBT+ community. Even after we built our own as they insisted, people still harrass us for "not being oppressed enough" or for "making up a sexuality" or even "endangering the kids by confusing them with something unnatural".
It's 2024. We can't keep pushing away our fellow members when the world is already pushing us away from society. Exclusionism has only ever served to tear us apart while the people who want to hurt us sit back and let us do the work for them. We can't keep doing this. We deserve to have our space.
We belong here too.
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inkskinned · 1 year
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there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.
it is harder.
it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.
it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?
it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister
on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving
it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.
i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.
it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.
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zeichannnnn · 3 months
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⚠️ In regards to the natlan controversy (and Sumeru by proxy)
Do NOT accuse people of being racist just because your skin colour cannot be found in a game. Learn to know that people don't live in the same situation as you.
Please read this fully for the reality of things I'm sorry for getting political, skip if you don't want to interact
I’m kinda sad at the fact that a lot of people are quick to hate, judge, and scrutinise Hoyo without understanding the situation.
With recent teaser of Natlan characters, people are rightfully upset at the fact that the characters shown to hail from Natlan… don’t exactly look the part. With characters lighter than my own skin tone (I’m a Chinese Southeast Asian by the way, heya) people are calling hoyo bullshit and accusing them of being a racist for failing time and time again at giving us characters with POC shades of skin. Now I’m not here to defend Mihoyo for their actions, or to tell you to stop being mad at the situation being the way they are. No, I’m here to shed you some light of how life is as a game company under the rule of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and Xin Jin Ping (XJP cause I won’t be bothered to type his whole ass name)
I've highlighted points of each section
Any pages that requires translations, I recommend using DeepL instead of google translate because you can check the meanings of specific words and it's translation are better (imo)
Skip to the last part if you just want a summarised version
Before we get into the nitty gritty that is Genshin drama, I'll give you a run-down on what and how China works.
check the part "In relation to Genshin's design choices and how China's beauty standard influences it" if you want to go straight on to the point
People’s Republic of China
is a Unitary Marxist–Leninist one-party socialist republic. This means that China is under a one-party (Chinese Communist Party) rule with communism ideology on how they rule and govern the country and socialist standards for how they manage their economy and everything else. [.]
The CCP holds a very nationalistic view
[.] which is commonly used as propaganda [.] for them to garner either sympathy or control over the people of China. These nationalistic view, in its raw and most rudest form, simply states that Chinese people are pure by upholding traditional Chinese culture (that's not even traditionally Chinese, more or less more catered towards communism and the CCP's ideologies which are that they're great and everyone else is wrong) and not mixing themselves or tainting themselves with things that are not pure (i.e. anything that isn't Chinese, from China, belongs to China) This nationalistic views, which glorifies China and detests anything foreign (i.e. culture, language, people, etc.) have led to a lot of xenophobia being built and nurtured inside of China's society [1] [2] [3]
Aside from the CCP's nationalistic views,
China's society is very censored and monitored by the CCP
[.] Google, YouTube, or more specifically, the internet itself is heavily banned by the government, electing the people to use the CCP's private internet that allows them to be monitored 24/7 through IP location and private information. [1] [2] [3] [4] Aside from heavily monitored and controlled internet access, people in the real world are also actively being watched and monitored through CCTV with facial recognition features and an AI that can predict people's action (yes, exactly like the akasha, and yes, Sumeru arc is based on reality, I won't talk about it here but feel free to read between the lines and compare it with the sources and news articles I'm about to drop on you) [1] [2. Behind paywall] [3] [4] [5]
With its censorship in mind, let us talk about what brings us all here:
the gaming censorship in China.
In order for a game to be published in China, whether it's made by an indie or a multi-billion dollar company, the game has to go through a complicated preliminary test made and assigned by the CCP to play, test, and go through your game before publishing it anywhere in Chinese media [.] This test includes you company's paperwork, your game's paperwork, the things you're displaying in your game, and the story it's trying to tell. There are not that many rules on what should and should not appear inside of your game, such as: polyamory, the undead (in both graphic and non-graphic manner), etc. That should be considered tame and should cause no problem, however, we do have a problem with one of the rule given which is: Emphasizing Cultural Sensitivity.
Emphasizing Cultural Sensitivity
in the article I've mentioned before, describes it as "Games should impart “correct” information on politics, law, and history, as interpreted by the authorizing agency." Now what does "correct" information entail? Who fucking knows because truth is relative. Facts, when in the eyes of the CCP, are relative to what they believe is to be right and what they want us to believe is right.
Now with that out of the way, let us get into the main deal.
MiHoYo
(not to be confused with Hoyoverse/Cognosphere which is their international branch) is a is a Chinese video game development and publishing company, founded by three classmates from university Cai Haoyu, Liu Wei, and Luo Yuhao [.] That means that Genshin Impact's development, ever since it was at its infancy, first-established days, and updates until the near future, are all subjected onto that game censorship law that I mentioned earlier. Now you might all be wondering, what does all of those rules have to do with genshin characters having dark skins? To that I point you towards the fact that MiHoYo and the CCP are and have been actively working together ever since around September 2021. [1] [2]
Cooperation between MiHoYo and the CCP
Ever since Genshin Impact's massive hit both nationally and internationally, its massive fanbase has hit the internet no one has ever seen before. It is the first ever Chinese game that has gotten world wide acclaim and with that, new eyes begin to look upon China. It is no surprise to anyone that Genshin is very particular about showing and promoting Chinese culture to the outside world. Genshin has somehow become the face to Chinese culture in just a year, with limited events such as Lantern Rite and Moonchase festival to showcase China's cultural beauty. With world-wide acclaim comes a price, wherein the CCP no longer treats Genshin as "another game" but a tool that they can use to promote and advertise themselves into the global population.
Begin the censorship and micro-manipulation of things in Genshin
New gaming censorship dropped after the Genshin Impact became a hit in the industry, with even Venti and Gorou as examples of characters that should not appear in media published in China (effeminate man) [.] In additional to the list I've linked in the "the gaming censorship in China" section, a lot more additional rules have been added to that list, such as: queer representation, morally grey character, but I what I want you to look at more is the section where "historical elements, including characters, maps and clothing, should conform with mainstream accounts." in addition to that, a self-regulation pact was made between game companies and the CCP that bans any and all content that is deemed "politically harmful" and "historically nihilistic." Now focus more onto that "historically nihilistic" point, what does that mean?
Historical nihilism
is a term used by the CCP and many Chinese scholars to describe research or discussions deemed to contradict an official state version of history in a manner perceived to question or challenge the legitimacy of the CCP [.] TLDR; it's a term used for when what you're saying clashes or goes against what the CCP said. Why is this important you may ask? It's because that now, at this point, if anything Genshin does something—whether that'd be plotline, design etc.—that the CCP thinks shouldn't exist or be represented, they have the lawful right to block or stop it from reaching the final product. Now this, this is what happened to Genshin's Sumeru and Natlan cast.
In relation to Genshin's design choices and how China's beauty standard influences it
white has always been a predominant part of modern Chinese beauty culture, for some reason (I don't know and I'm not going to go that deep into it, research it on your own if you're curious) In fact, it's not only China but also Asian culture in general. White skin has always been hailed as pure and beautiful here in Asia, where the line "as pale as the moon" is a common compliment to give to someone. Skin colour that are tan or even darker are connected to being dirty or stinky. Despite the younger generation not really adhering to that view, the older generation (calling out the CCP here) upholds that standard till this day. Pin straight hair, round eyes, pale white skin, and a thin figure are the standards put upon those born as female. Their male counterpart are not that different, with lean and fit being the preferred body type rather than big muscles or bulky forms.
The reason behind why this is the case is because of Asia's strict social code in rules and appearances. We must appear prim and clean, that means no dyed hair, no tattoos, no piercings, and minimal make-up. Anyone that goes against those rules are regarded as delinquents or deviants that usually break the rules and do criminal activities (despite it not being the case) Having a bulky stature also applies to that list, regardless of what gender you are, and especially for men. You're regarded as dangerous, criminal, bad influence if you look like that in public (this is why we don't have that much bulky characters gang and why we were robbed of heavy muscles Itto orz) (he deffo was very bulky in the original design, probably similar to the Nobushi but it got nerfed in final product)
Given all of that in mind, it's no wonder that Sumeru's and and Natlan's casts are mostly white... but were they always that way?
The original skin colour design for Natlan cast might've been darker than what we have in the final product.
As a lot of people have mentioned (especially with the many beautiful edits I'm very fond of) the character designs for Natlan's new up-coming rosters looks better with darker skin tone. Take for examples this edit right here:
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taken from @ rarepairz on twitter [source]
Their designs (with darker skin tones) seem to pop more, giving highlights onto their clothes and accessories in comparison to the original design. Here are more examples of this happening:
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taken from @ Wabs_nabs on twitter [source]
It is especially clear to anyone with basic colour theory that the colour used for designing the clothes and accessories and highlights in the hair look better with darker skin colour. There is *intent* on making it this way in comparison to woeful ignorance of making them look white as hell. If they were to intentionally to make the characters look white, they would've chosen a better colour for the clothes, less bolder ones and eye-popping ones to contrast with the already luminescent light that's emitting from the skin.
And this is not the case for only Natlan, by the way! The same thing happened when the Sumeru cast was first leaked. Case in point this:
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taken from @ animuswonder on twitter [source]
and my personal art of Cyno and Nari:
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Look at how much contrast there is between their colour palette or how much resonance there is, with Cyno his more cold-colour attire and hair, in comparison to his deep dark warm skin or Tighnari that's the epitome of a "spring girl" like come on man. There's INTENT in those designs, to have more darker shades than they are in the game. Sadly, they just can't do it due to censorships. Why? Because, as I have mentioned before, darker shades of skin are represented as dirt here in Asia as we glorify pale skin more.
The representation of uniqueness and differences in Chinese game is not common due the fact that most Asian countries are homogenous, which means they prefer everyone and everything to be the same, to look the same, and follow and do the same things. They do not advocate for uniqueness, they do not advocate for individuality, they advocate for us to conform and to follow like a sheep in a herd. Because of that, most people spend their whole life trying to whiten up their skin, keeping them light, and those who are darker than most are shown prejudiced and scrutinised.
Mentioning again the fact that MiHoYo and the CCP are working closely together, Genshin Impact is currently being used as a cultural weapon by the government. With MiHoYo showing numerous time that they've donate and support Chinese cultural heritage, the CCP is using that fact and holding control over Genshin as a way to promote and advertise sympathy towards Chinese culture and the Communist regime by proxy. It's like how your parents are getting you to eat broccoli brownies in hopes that you'd eat normal broccolis and other vegetables by proxy. Everything and anything that Genshin shows in its game are now under close inspections of the CCP and colourism especially will not fly-by their radar.
In conclusion
Your anger and hatred towards the new characters’ designs are justified, however the person you aim those anger and hatred should not be towards Mihoyo, or Liu Wei, or any of the staff members but towards the situation and the laws and the local government MiHoYo has to adhere to.
We're already lucky to have MiHoYo even wanting to represent and shpw different cultures from different parts of the world, telling us engaging stories, and incentivising us to think more and to be be more of us instead of following the crowd and to judge those in power (if you are literate and have the ability of a 6th grader, you know the theme Genshin Impact is showing in its story). In a world where they aren't able to live as freely as people outside of mainland do, they shouldn't have to put their life at risk by creating a game that goes against the CCP's laws that will lead to a deduction to their social points (yes, those actually exist, WAKE UP). Yet they do, they update every month, telling stories, creating characters with many characteristics that goes against Chinese gaming laws, just for us to enjoy.
Do NOT accuse people of being racist just because your skin colour cannot be found in a game. Learn to know that people don't live in the same situation as you.
You are right to be mad, you are right to be upset, but do not condemn them for something they hold no power to. It's between their lives and your fantasies and if you choose to value your delusion over their livelihood then that just shows what kind of a person you are.
Where's this conviction towards other game companies aside from MiHoYo? Where's the rightful air when it comes to companies that breathe much fresher air? Do they not have the same responsibility? Or is it because you actually do not care and merely want to point your unbridled emotions towards something or someone? If so, you're pointing at the wrong person.
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newnitz · 5 months
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Ashkenormativity
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Ashkenormativity is the assumption that the default Jew is the Ashkenazi one. It is a term coined by Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews to explain our alienation from the rest of the Jewish community, from my lived experience specifically from the Diaspora Jewish community.
I'm half-Ashkenazi, but that half is pretty secular. When it comes to major Jewish holidays, I've always done them with my maternal grandparents, who, despite being secularized, still respect their cantor roots to the point of not wanting to skip on a holiday or even shorten the Seder(until one hilariously bad one). So the only minhag I've known was the Sephardi one.
In Israel, this was a non-issue.
The most I heard about differences is how Sephardim and Mizrahim emphasize table manners because unlike Ashkenazim, they actually eat on the table.
When I left Israel and moved to a place hundreds of kilometers away from the nearest Jewish community, I finally realized how much I need our community. So like everyone on lockdown, I sought it online, where Jewish cultures is bagels and casual use of Yiddish, two things completely foreign to me. I mean we have bagels in Israel, but they're not the meme they are among US Jews. They're nowhere near as popular as a pita. So when I had to look up what "davening", "shul" and "shanda" meant, I first got the sense I don't actually belong.
But the people using those terms as a day to day weren't the ones who actively made me feel unwelcome. In fact, those were more likely to acknowledge my confusion and explain. The ones who alienated me are the antizionist Jews from the Anglosphere, who ignore and revise non-Ashkenazi history and even history of Ashkenazim outside the Global North, who blame modern Hebrew for the decline of Yiddish which they frame as the traditional Jewish language, ignoring how that pushes down communities that traditionally spoke Ladino, Juddeo-Arabic, Amharic and more, and overall infantilize and dismiss families like mine who built a good life for ourselves in Israel and rose to the position to actively combat Ashkenazi hegemony, and remove the agency of my former classmates who take a stand against it, all in favor of superimposing the race politics of the Anglosphere onto Israel.
So the Columbia university definition of singling out "white Jews" is quite inaccurate. Under ashkenormativity, an Ashkenazi JoC would find themselves better represented than the white-presenting members of my Sephardi(or raised according to that half) family. It's another reductivist attempt to superimpose European guilt onto Jews by erasing half of us. Specifically, the half that lives in Israel.
Goyim, ashkenormativity doesn't belong to you. Stop using it as a shield to be antisemitic. Stop using it as anything regarding inter-community issues, it's our term to use within our community.
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erosastro · 1 year
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Some of my favourite overlays in synastry 💫pt 1
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💫 Your moon in their fourth house/their moon in your 4th house - this person feels like home!! (especially if this is well aspected). There's an immediate sense of comfort between these two and trust. The type of couple to constantly have deep meaningful conversations.
💫 Your Moon in their 7th house/their Moon in your 7th house - A relationship that's based on an equal give and take and always willing to listen to the Moon persons feelings. It could be a roller-coaster as well because I've found that it sometimes fluctuates in terms of ups and downs drastically but if well aspected this is ideal for long term relationships/marriage. I've noticed this type of couple that always understands what the other needs with a lot of compassion and willingness to compromise.
💫 Your venus in their 2nd house/their Venus in your 2nd house - I know this is an unpopular one but I love it because they bring a sense of security and sensuality to Venus. I don't know why more people don't like this one, it's not just based on material wealth/possessions etc. It can go so much deeper than that. This is the couple that you see on Pinterest dressed up like theyre going to the met gala and take loads of mirror selfies
💫Your Venus in their 1st house/their Venus in your 1st house - giirrrlll talk about love at first sight lol. This couple is all over each other and the attraction is off the charts. I think people think this relationship could be very surface level but I beg to differ. it can also be based on deep rooted passion and love.
💫Your Juno in their 1st house/their Juno in your 1st house - Another huge one for attraction and in a lot of married couples. They adore each other and are completely devoted to one another.
💫Your Sun in their 5th house/their Sun in your 5th house - A relationship built on fun, light-heartedness and romance. They build on each other, hype each other up and tend to be very supportive of the other person.
💫Your Sun in their 4th house/their Sun in your 4th house - Another home indicator and i love this one a lot. They feel like they belong together and can't get the other person off their minds because of how quickly they click and can open up to each other.
💫Your Venus in their 8th house/their Venus in your 8th house - I know 8th house placements are like taboo or whatever but I really love them especially if both individuals are mature and if one or the other have strong 8th house in their own charts. This is intense and deep and a love like no other and the sexual chemistry is out of this world.
💫Your Jupiter in their 1st house/their Jupiter in your 1st house - Jupiter is all about expansion and being in the first house of self, it's encouraging the other person to grow and be more optimistic in life, to have more faith and also bring that into the relationship.
💫Your Moon in their 5th house/their Moon in your 5th house - this is a fun couple that keeps the romance alive and still manages to have the important conversations without it being too heavy. They're constantly looking for ways to make the other person happy and keep them on their toes.
💫Your Ascendent in their 1st house/their Ascendent in your 1st house - Another huge attraction indicator idk I think everyone I've had this with I absolutely adore and I do tend to put them on a pedestal but I don't necessarily think it's a bad thing so long as it doesn't turn into an obsession.
💫Your Sun in their 10th house/their Sun in your 10th house - speaking of putting the other person on a pedestal.... Sun in 10th will absolutely do that for you lol. You'll look up to that person and think they're the world and your whole universe which again I don't think is a bad thing so as long it's well aspected and doesn't turn into an obsession.
💫Your Mercury in their 3rd house/their Mercury in your 3rd house - Mercury is at home here! Communication will come easily and this is the type of couple that has loads of Inside jokes and always knows what to do to make the other person laugh/smile.
💫Your Mercury in their 9th house/their Mercury in your 9th house - This is really good for expanding the other person's mind. 9th house is all about learning and philosophy and they can teach other a lot, especially how to become more open-minded especially when well aspected.
° part 2 soon!
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gay-jesus-probably · 1 year
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Okay so I have a lot of thoughts about the whole thing of the Gerudo being a race of entirely women, with the only exception being one man born every hundred years, and that man automatically being their king. Now this worldbuilding comes from Ocarina of Time, and there's obviously a metric fuckton of unfortunate implications there, because it was 1998. And it seems that Tears of the Kingdom is sticking with the lore of Gerudo men being extremely rare and becoming the King of their people, which once again has a metric fuckton of unfortunate implications because it's 2023 and Nintendo has somehow gotten even worse about this shit.
But let's set aside the whole... everything, and look at this from just the in-universe perspective. How does it work? I mean, it's pretty clear that there is no overlap between the kings; the old ones are normally long gone by the time a new one is born, but the Gerudo manage to take care of themselves during the hangtime. So they must have an established system of government and leadership that doesn't involve a king, and somehow that system is set up in a way that does a smooth transfer of power once a new king is born and old enough to take the throne. But why bother always declaring a random guy to be your King when you already have a perfectly functional system in place?
I mean again, the whole thing has a lot of sexist implications, but we're not looking at this from a real world context, we're examining it in-universe. And we could just go the lazy route and say that their king is in charge just because he's the only man, but I don't like that. I mean come on, the Gerudo are a race of entirely women, and most of their outside problems come from Hylian men being creepy about it. They are entirely a matriarchy; there is literally no reason for their culture to have an inherent respect for men, even if the man in question is one of them. And they're desert people; they live in an extremely harsh and dangerous landscape, if they don't have their shit together, they will die. By sheer necessity, their culture needs to put a lot of value in being practical, because if they're stupid about things, people die. They really can't afford to have a shitty leader take over, and just letting some guy take the wheel doesn't really fit with the way their culture must otherwise work.
So again, why the fuck do they bother having a King?
I think it's mainly just a ceremonial position. Yes, if the guy is a good leader he'll be in charge, but if he isn't good at being a King or isn't interested in the job... fuck it, they've already got a functional government system that's been leading their people the whole time, why fix what isn't broken? The title of Gerudo King isn't about leadership or power. I think it's more about belonging. Because the Gerudo are a culture where every single one of them can be defined in the same way... and there is exactly one exception once a century. Men are considered to be inherently outsiders at the best of times, and more often they're enemies. A man born into this culture is a natural outsider; he is completely unique, and that means he doesn't really fit into his community. And well... when someone is fundamentally different from the rest of their community, they tend to be ostracized.
So I think that's why the position of Gerudo King exists. It isn't about them needing or even wanting a man to lead them. The title of King doesn't need to involve any leadership at all. It's about giving the man born every century a place in their society. It's a way of saying yes, you are one of us, you are a Gerudo, you belong here, you are wanted and you are loved.
The Gerudo know that every hundred years, one of their children will be fundamentally different from all of his peers. And so their society is built to ensure that a child who is completely different from them will still be loved and accepted. He will always have a place in their society. He doesn't need to earn their love, he has it just for existing. These are his people.
The title of Gerudo King isn't an inherent position of authority. It's a promise of acceptance.
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boinday · 3 months
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A body in the water. A howl in the mist. A community secret. A God waking up. Sybil Kane, a London nurse, is dispatched to the isolated island of Calda off the Irish coast, to care for the grandfather she's never met. She's not built for the task; timid, quiet, and self-sacrificial, her journey across the sea dredges up past horrors she thought were long drowned. In the wake of the Irish Civil War and Free State, she feels like a foreigner on her own soil. The islanders are quick to embrace her – but they have plans for Sybil, plans they don't share out in the open. With only a revolutionary soldier and the local shipwright as allies, Sybil tries to persuade her newfound community to see sense and evacuate their elderly population to the mainland. But their roots are planted deep, and Sybil feels those tendrils growing around her... The longer she stays, the more she belongs. The closer she draws to the grotesque secret they keep hidden at the church...
Very excited to reveal the first teaser image of my novel, The Water Dog! It's been a long time in the making and is probably the most deeply personal story I'll ever tell. A mix of folk-horror and supernatural romance, I think people who've enjoyed my previous stories will be a bit surprised (in a good way I hope!) by this more intense literary experience.
I'll be releasing more updates soon, but this is the reason RTR has been on such a long hiatus. I've been writing like a demon all year to get this finished and edited to a professional standard. I can't wait to show you all more.
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silentglassbreak · 2 months
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hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme
friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.
going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay
feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺
Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst
Can You Feel My Heart
Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?
If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.
If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.
If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.
At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?
This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.
Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.
He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.
He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.
We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.
"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."
"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."
He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.
That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.
As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.
He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.
Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.
So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.
He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.
There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.
The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.
We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.
That's when the words left his mouth.
"We need to talk."
That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.
It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.
"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"
And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.
Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.
How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?
I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...
I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.
“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”
"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.
His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."
I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."
Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.
"You don't need to get up for another hour."
"Not if I want to shower."
He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."
I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."
"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.
"Shut up. And get off me!"
He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.
"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.
"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.
I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.
Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.
"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."
I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."
He scoffed. "Not a chance."
Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.
"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."
I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.
"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.
"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."
He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"
I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"
He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"
His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.
"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."
He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."
I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."
"So, why would you want to be so far away?"
"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."
He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."
I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."
There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.
"Oh no? And if I do?"
"You can't."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"
He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."
Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"
He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."
"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"
His eyes popped open, then. "What?"
"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.
"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.
"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.
"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."
Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."
His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."
Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"
"What act?"
I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.
"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"
I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.
"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"
His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."
I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."
"I thought that's what we wanted."
Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."
He was silent, then.
"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."
I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.
His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.
"What do you want from me, Y/N?"
I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."
He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.
"I do love you!"
I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"
Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.
And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.
He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.
But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.
"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."
I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.
"You need to leave, Noah."
I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.
"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.
I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.
"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."
His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.
"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."
I let myself laugh at that.
"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."
7 Years Later
Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.
Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.
Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.
I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.
Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.
"You look so fine!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"
She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.
"So, Tyler isn't coming."
She frowned at me. "Why not?"
I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."
She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."
Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.
I liked him.
Right?
It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.
"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.
"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"
"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."
I nodded. "I've never heard them."
"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.
My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.
That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...
Bad Omens...they were the headliner.
Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.
I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...
“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”
My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?
I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.
Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?
Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.
“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”
I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?
“Long time ago.”
I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.
In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.
Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.
Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.
We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.
The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.
During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.
"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."
He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"
I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."
He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.
When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...
The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.
He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.
"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.
His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.
"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"
My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.
"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.
Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.
"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.
"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.
"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"
Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."
I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"
He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."
My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."
I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.
"He doesn't know I'm here."
He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"
I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."
"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"
Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.
"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"
I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.
"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"
I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."
"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.
I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."
He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"
"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"
He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"
I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.
Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...
"Nick?"
His face turned back to me.
"How is he?"
I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.
"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."
"How so?"
Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?
"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."
I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."
He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."
I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?
"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"
Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.
I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."
This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"
I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"
She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"
Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?
"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."
I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.
"Damn it, alright, come here."
She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.
"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."
Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"
I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."
"Do you know anyone else in the band?"
I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.
"I may know the entire band."
Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.
"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"
I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."
She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."
Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."
Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.
We turned, ready to make our way back inside.
"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."
I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.
"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."
"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.
"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"
I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."
"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"
I was going to actually vomit at that.
"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."
She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"
I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."
I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.
I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.
I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.
"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."
My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."
My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."
She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"
I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."
She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.
I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.
Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?
I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?
Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.
He didn't take but a minute to respond.
Tyler: Having fun?
Ha, what a joke.
Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.
Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.
That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.
The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.
A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.
A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.
Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.
Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.
And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.
A voice I'd never forget.
"Can you hear me through the white noise?"
He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.
He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.
The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.
As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.
The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.
They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.
The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.
"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."
Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.
Noah had changed...
The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.
The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?
"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...
The crowd erupted.
"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"
The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.
"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."
The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.
"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."
My heart twisted in my chest.
"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"
The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.
"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."
"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."
My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.
"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"
I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.
I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"
Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.
"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.
When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.
"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."
She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."
After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.
"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"
I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.
I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.
Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.
After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"
I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.
"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.
"Hang on! Wait!"
A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.
A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.
He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.
The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.
"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"
My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?
He thought he did, but now...
"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.
He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."
I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.
In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.
"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.
"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.
"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."
I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."
-
A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.
I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.
I couldn't do that again.
I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.
Who would be calling me at 2AM?
I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.
"Hello?"
"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"
I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.
"Noah?" It barely came out.
"It's been a long time."
I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."
"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"
I sighed. "Nick told you?"
"He might've."
I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."
"Why?"
I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."
He hummed. "That's true."
I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.
"What did you think?"
"Of the show?"
"Mhm."
I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."
A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"
I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."
"In a bad way?"
"No. Not at all."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.
The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?
"Why did you call, Noah?"
I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."
"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."
My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."
"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."
My heart pounded. "What?"
"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.
"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."
"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"
I perused the idea. "When?"
"Now?"
I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."
"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."
This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?
"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."
"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"
I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.
My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?
It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.
I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!
I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.
I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.
Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...
Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.
I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.
"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.
"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.
"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.
I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."
He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.
"I had to."
I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."
I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.
"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."
"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."
I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.
To my chagrin, he was still there.
Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.
"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"
Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."
My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"
He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."
"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.
This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.
"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.
"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"
I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."
He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."
He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.
"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."
He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"
Oop. I wasn't expecting that.
"The second one. Villain, or something?"
He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"
I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"
"Mm, and which one was that?"
I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.
"Uh, I don't know the name."
He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."
Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"
"Am I wrong?"
He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.
I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."
He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."
"You still haven't said why."
"Why did you want to see me?"
My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"
"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.
He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.
"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"
I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.
"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."
I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"
"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."
There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.
In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"
He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.
"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"
He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'
"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"
He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.
"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"
My heart stopped, completely motionless.
"What?"
"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."
I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.
"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"
My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.
"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."
This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.
"Noah, I had no idea-"
"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."
I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.
"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."
He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."
"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"
He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."
My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.
Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.
"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.
I couldn't take it.
I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.
His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.
My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.
Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.
His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.
His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.
"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"
I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."
His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.
"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"
I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.
I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.
"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."
His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"
Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.
"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"
I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."
My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."
Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.
"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."
He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.
I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.
"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.
"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.
My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.
My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.
"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"
My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.
"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."
My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.
"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."
Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.
"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."
He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."
My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."
He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.
I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.
We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.
"Hi." Was all I could manage.
He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."
-
After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.
He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.
However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.
"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."
"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."
"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."
"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."
And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.
I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?
But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.
Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.
When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?
Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.
Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)
I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.
Odd?
I resent it, getting the same response.
Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?
Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.
His number was the same, right?
I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.
So...what the hell?
My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.
I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.
"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."
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vidavalor · 3 months
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Art Does Not Solely Belong to the Artist
For my fellow Good Omens people:
I don't usually write about real-world stuff on this blog but the current stuff is unavoidable and relevant and I write to process things so the result is some thoughts on the horrible mess:
From the moment that art sees the light of day, it does not belong to the artist. It belongs to the world. From the moment that even just one other person sees a work of art, it is no longer just the domain of the artist. The work of art now has a life of its own and it now belongs, collectively, to every person who engages with it.
Everyone who views a work of art comes at it from their own unique perspective. They bring their own background knowledge, their own experiences, their own fears and dreams. If they connect with a work of art, it can be a very personal experience and, in some cases, transformative. People who engage with art can sometimes see that art become part of the fabric of their lives in many ways. They might make art of their own related to the work or use aspects of it, consciously or unconsciously, as a tool to process struggles within their own lives. The work of art might be tied to memories and to new friends they've made from engaging with it. They might view the community built around the work of art as a place of happiness and solace in an uncertain world.
All of these things make it difficult when it becomes evident that the artist's behavior is not in line with what attracted many good people to engage with his work.
It can be a lot to learn that a monster made the thing that brought you joy. It can be a lot to learn that a monster made art that you love but that is so completely antithetical to their own words and deeds outside of the art that the hypocrisy makes your blood boil. It can be a lot to keep that anger and disappointment from turning into cynicism. Letting it is not a great idea-- that is just letting the monster get you, too, in a way, and helping darkness to spread.
Do not cede the stories you love to darkness; they belong to you, too, and to all of us. Do not let any bleak, horrible people behind the stories you love take from you what belongs to you.
It does not actually matter that his name is on the book or the tv show in question; it belongs to all of those who helped make it and to all of those who read and view it. It evolved independently into the product of all who engage with it and of all who engage with one another as a result. Good Omens is not a just a book or a tv show anymore; it's a community of people who have read and viewed Good Omens. People who have made art inspired by its themes and found new friends around the world as a result of engaging with its story. Those experiences are our own and do not need to be denied just because of the repugnant acts of one of the many people involved with the story.
As a rape survivor, I can tell you that two things can co-exist: you can acknowledge and be horrified by the pain suffered by victims of the monster and you can also still enjoy the community of people who came together over a sense of positive connection made by art that was originally made, in part, by that monster. Both can-- and should-- be done. Despairing over the darkness of the world does nothing. Countering that darkness with every bit of love you have is what can actually make the world better. Staying in this community and continuing to be a part of it with the big, open, lovely hearts it is known for would be the best way to be a force for good.
You do not need to give up Good Omens to be supportive of his victims. In fact, I can't think of anything less effective-- that is only allowing the blast radius of his predatory behavior to spread. What would actually be helpful is to believe his victims and, as a community, come together for SA survivors in every way we can think of. The book and the show and this community do not belong to one creep of a guy-- they belong to all of us. There's no reason for us to go because this is our home.
Good Omens isn't just him; it belongs to the late Terry Pratchett, Michael Sheen, David Tennant, the hundreds of people it takes to make the show, and all of us who have made our own art and made new friends as a result of it. It is not okay to diminish the suffering of human beings or to place the fate of a fictional story above them but it is also very much okay to not give up on that story and its community entirely because of the actions of just one of the many people involved with it.
With any luck, there will be some justice in the real world for his very real, very disturbing behavior. That is obviously what is most important here.
As for the show? He is one, very replaceable creep, who didn't even write half of S2 himself. (Not to mention half the book.) It takes many people to make a tv show and S3 is an already-planned last season that just needs to be steered into port. It'll be fine.
In the meantime, it's fine to still love what we love-- because it's ours, too. Make your fan art. Finish your meta and your fic. Be silly and laugh and have fun. Giving up what makes you happy because of one, heinous asshole is not taking the moral high ground-- it is helping darkness win by destroying a community space that positively serves many, a lot of whom are survivors themselves.
Calls to dump Good Omens entirely are empty, performative outrage that serves no actual, practical purpose for improving anyone's lives. It's an attempt to put everyone who works on the show out of a job and to force the cancelation of prominent, trans-friendly media, and to help along any of that would not do anything to hold him accountable, nor is it respecting his victims. If you want to honor their suffering, don't help him and the gross bigots who exposed him spread more pain of any kind. Believe the victims and let law enforcement and the studios deal with the justice. There are much more productive, much more effective ways to respect his victims and one is to not let their suffering be the reason why you give up a source of your own positive connection and joy.
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sashayed · 1 year
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have you heard that jordan peele said steven yeun's character is the one that has the most in common with him. have you thought about how most of his cinematic career has been built around discussions of race and the traumas that come from racism. have you thought about how any media handling real and personal topics is a sort of emotional self-disembowelment on the part of the creator. have you thought of the glory and horror of being Seen. have you screamed
Have I? HAVE i. Have I thought about how Peele has discussed being objectified and tokenized on set, especially early in his career? Have I thought about what it's like to suffer real-life trauma in a space created for make-believe? Buddy, I haven't thought about anything else for days!!
I think one thing that makes this movie so visceral to me is that it's an exploration by a great popular artist on the human cost of making popular art. To me, the connection between Peele and Jupe is a link between the auteur and the cult leader — both are people consumed & defined by stories, people who are compelled by a narrative and feel an urge to spread that narrative to an audience.
And I am really impressed by how hard Peele seems to work to reject the cult leader in himself as best he can — to make art that enriches the lives of ALL THE PEOPLE WHO MAKE IT. Every interview is about how collaborative and present he is as a director. Obsessed with this Q&A for many reasons but this moment sticks with me:
KEKE PALMER: There would be moments where we’re going through different parts of this script, this story, from when we first rehearsed to when we were actually on set, or when we had an idea that happened that morning. I would be listening, my head would be down, I’d be listening to what Jordan’s saying, I’m like, man this is deep. And I look up and there’d be just this one little tear falling. Man, this brother’s deep. JORDAN PEELE: I’m not afraid to cry as a director. KP: And he’s chill! He’d be like, “That’s what happens” and tears are falling. I’m like, “Are you all right?” But he keeps going and he’s like “Yeah, yeah. So that’s the thing.” And then he just walks out.
To me, that reads as a person who is NOT JUST super smart and deep and creative etc but who is also aware every moment of how lucky he is to be doing what he's doing, and who is not ashamed of his own reaction to that gratitude. What's to be ashamed of? It's incredibly fun! He is having an amazing time! He's hanging out with people he likes and respects and coating actors with goop in the esophageal tube! What a job!
I wonder if, to be that thankful and that aware (and that collaborative), you have to have experienced the flip side; if you have to have been Jupe, at least for a little while. I wonder if the process of -- to some extent -- commodifying your own suffering (as capitalism practically demands that artists do in order to survive as artists) leads, almost inevitably, to a moment where you think, "I survived this horror and became a Star because I am the main character of reality: I am more special than other people, I have a special ability to communicate, I have a special destiny." That is a powerful story and a seductive one, but if you don't leave it behind, it will eat you and the people around you alive.
It seems to me like an extension of what Peele is exploring in Us--the notion that your contentment is entangled with someone else's suffering. Why you? Why not the person with all your qualities who for whatever reason never ended up where you are? Especially for creators with marginalized identities, right? "Am I occupying a space that should belong to someone else?" You can avoid that question by deciding that you have special individual qualities that make you the Chosen One, as Jupe does. Or you can accept that the question will always haunt you, that luck (LUCKY THE FINAL HORSE??) has no logic, and you try to spread your luck out and open your space up to as many other people as you can. Which you see Peele doing all the time! Gah!!
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bob-artist · 3 months
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Just found you via your funny dream comic. Good stuff 😆. Definitely gonna read the rest, and I was surprised you had your own website. Looks good on mobile too. I’ve got a comic that some friends keep trying to build me a site for but I’ve been telling them no because it seems like between webtoon and social media nobody is interested in personal sites anymore.
Have you noticed an uptick in engagement from your site? Would you recommend going that route? I’d like to hear your thoughts.
I’m also interested in how you decided to build/host it, if that question isn’t too lame.
Anyway, glad I found your comics!
Ah thank you for checking out Into the Smoke's website!!
Oh, I have SO many thoughts about independent webcomic sites and why people should have them. I have so many thoughts, and I'm so so sorry.
Why did I decide to have my own webcomic site?
First of all, this is not a lame question and I wish we could all have this conversation more often, so I could maybe write just a paragraph instead of this whole dissertation!
1. Because I lived through webcomics history.
I launched my first webcomic in 2011. I watched the webcomics scene shift over the years from self-hosted sites to third party sites, and I saw what it meant for independent creators. We lost vital infrastructure, relationships, habits, and control over our own work. I think self-hosted sites are an important backbone for creators, even if/when their largest *numbers* come from a third party site.
We’re all supposed to be helping each other, not fighting each other to satisfy the algorithm. Our early tools (webrings, link trades, comic databases, sharing each other’s posts) were small but meaningful, and they also helped us maintain a community mindset in a long and sometimes lonely line of work. When we started leaning on hosting sites, we let a lot of those tools and relationships decay. And now a lot of people are locked into imbalanced relationships with hosting sites that leave them with very little agency and control over their work and how it’s shared (or isn’t shared).
Hosting sites are great for removing barriers to entry (cost/time to build a site). And a lot of them have large built-in audiences. But the big ones aren’t run by people who care about creators. They’re designed to extract the maximum value from your work while giving you the least they can get away with. Use them if you want (I do), but don't be dependent on them.
2. Comics are the main thing I do for a living, and a website gives me the tools to promote my work and build relationships with my readers.
Most apps and third party sites actively prevent or suppress these things. On your own site, you can share all the info you want about your upcoming Kickstarter, your tradpub book release, your merch, etc. You can collect email addresses for your newsletter. You can literally just talk about your weekend, and you’re not gonna have a 150-character limit.
Yeah, not everyone wants to read a wall of text (ha ha...), but acting like a person reminds readers to treat you like a person. This is one of my main gripes with the apps and social media - they suppress human connection and present you like a cog in their machine that only exists to churn out free content.
3. I have a consistent home base and full control over how my work is displayed.
I don’t have to fight against an app that’s trying to direct my readers toward whichever content is most profitable for them. On an app, the readers “belong” to them, not you. (Who has their email addresses?) So if I'm putting effort into promoting my comic, I'm promoting my own site. (oh look, I just did it.)
Hosting sites/apps aren't designed to showcase your work. They showcase the app’s collection, and they're designed to keep readers on the app, jumping from creator to creator. This can help readers find you, but it also devalues your work and dilutes its impact.
And the app might not show your work to anyone anyway. Tapas is a great example; they recently redesigned their site to prioritize their Originals, and independent creators are hidden away in a “community” tab with barely any discoverability anymore. This is always the struggle on a third party site.
4. I hate censorship.
Into the Smoke is Teen 16/17+ and Demon of the Underground is R/18+. My comics aren’t even explicit, but I still can’t post my true, uncensored vision for either story on third party apps governed by Apple’s App Store and Visa/Mastercard’s tight content restrictions.
If webcomics exist exclusively on apps with heavy censorship, we’ll never have the diversity of storytelling and freedom of expression that’s necessary for groundbreaking or subversive art to happen. And that’s bad for everyone.
Adult brains need to engage with adult concepts. Difficult and triggering topics need to be explored in creative spaces. Artists need freedom to stretch their creative muscles without falling into the damaging patterns of self-censorship that come from having to tiptoe around arbitrary platform rules.
We can’t let the rules of like 3 American companies dictate what every webcomic reader around the world is allowed to read.
5. An independent website can’t easily be taken away from you.
Just make regular backups! You can always move to a new web host and redirect URLs if needed, and you won't lose your readers. On the other hand, you can easily lose the bulk of your audience on a third party site based on circumstances outside your control.
Let’s talk about Smack Jeeves, a formerly popular webcomic hosting site that was bought out and then shut down, leaving lots of cartoonists homeless. Or we can talk about the Tumblr NSFW purge of 2018, where I lost a huge chunk of my first webcomic’s following and most of my webcomic mutuals, even though my own account stayed within the rules. Or Musk buying Twitter, the platform where I once found my literary agent through a publishing event but now get no traction at all.
Have I noticed an uptick in engagement from my site?
I don’t have analytics on my site yet. But, up until a few days ago, that's where people were reading, thanks to my own efforts and the support of my comics friends and all of y’all who shared my ITS posts. (THANK YOU ALL!) I didn't have any discoverability on Webtoon or Tapas yet.
I got 10-15 new patrons between May 25 and June 5. Up until a few days ago, I even had more ITS newsletter subscribers than Webtoon subscribers.
What happened a few days ago is my Webtoon mirror suddenly blew up with 100+ new subs a day. I don’t know where I’m being featured, but I know I’m only getting those readers because Webtoon suddenly chose to grant me visibility. That can end just as instantly with an algorithm tweak or them deciding not to show my comic anymore. (When my first webcomic was in one of their pay programs in 2018, I went from $300 or $400/month to $0 overnight due to a policy change.) So I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, but I won't de-prioritize my website.
The new Webtoon readers are awesome and supportive, and I’m 100% thrilled to have them. But the Webtoon influx isn't resulting in a Patreon influx like my website launch did. I wouldn't expect it to, this early in the story. But it's consistent with my past experience polling my patrons: even when 50% of my readers came from the apps, 90% of patrons read on my website. (Your audience may vary.) And since I depend on crowdfunding for my comic, that's important to me.
Would I recommend going the route of having your own site?
For anyone who’s just testing the waters with webcomics, it might be overkill.
But for anyone who’s committed to their webcomic, I recommend having your own site AND mirroring on every third party site you can, provided you’re cool with their terms of service. It's important to meet readers where they are. Let those hosting sites lend you their readers. Some readers will even want to visit your home site where they can read ahead, read the uncensored version of your comic, get more info, or sign up for your newsletter.
Just remember, no one will discover your independent website all on their own. They’ll only find it through the work you put into promotion. But the reader that cares enough to come to your home site is a special type of reader.
So how do you get readers to visit an independent webcomic site?
Find your allies
These are people who work in similar areas as you who want to help you succeed, and whom you want to help succeed. Chat with each other, help each other, promote each other, boost each other, link to each other (psst, my links page just went live!), be there for each other - behind the scenes and in public.
God, I am SO bad at approaching people, but this is important, and not just for comics.
Be part of a community
Really, this is an extension of the above point. It's easier to find your allies if you're part of a community.
I’m a member of the Cartoonist Cooperative, and they’re a GREAT group of talented people all across the comics industry. The mission of @cartoonistcoop is to help create better conditions for comic workers through cooperation and collective action, and I’ve found so much help from them with Into the Smoke and comics as a whole. (JOIN! They're great!!)
The goal of the co-op isn't to drive traffic to your website. But being part of it has helped me at every level of crafting my comic, including promoting it and making it good enough that I can take pride in promoting it. And it's helped me ground myself as part of a community after I lost so much of mine in past years of burnout and platform enshittification.
Another option: @spiderforestcomics is a great webcomic collective full of supportive creators, and I believe they’re open to submissions till the end of June! They also have an awesome collaborative community mindset, and I've known some of their members for years.
Direct readers to your RSS feed and newsletter
Getting readers to your website is great, but they need to keep coming back for future updates, and it’s hard to remind them without an app notification. You may need to teach younger readers what RSS feeds are. Inoreader is a great RSS reader for the 2024 era.
The dreaded SEO
That’s Search Engine Optimization - optimizing your website so that people can easily find your comic via search engines. That’s a topic for another day, but feel free to research it!
Paid promo
This can be tricky, and I really only recommend spending promo money if you’re making a comic on a professional basis, because then it’s an investment you'll make back.
That said, Comicad.net is a great independent site where you can buy banner slots on other creators’ sites. I just ran small campaign myself. (And no, I won’t ever be offended if you outbid me!)
I haven’t bought any Tumblr Blaze slots, but I got BOPPed (blaze other people’s posts; apparently that’s what it’s called, lol) once on this account and once on a side blog, and both were highly impactful. (Thanks, friend!!) So I consider it a solid option, and it looks really cheap compared to other social media sites. (Never trust Meta.)
And where can you learn more about building a webcomic site?
I know you didn't ask, but if I'm gonna share all this, I might as well give folks a starting place to actually do the thing.
Now, I’m *bad* at offering cheap and easy web solutions. My specialty is hard and expensive. But my one piece of advice: PLEASE make your webcomic site mobile friendly for the current generation of readers! When we talk about barriers to entry, remember that more people have phones than computers, and many can't afford computers.
Anyway, here's some webcomic website resources from OTHER people!
The Cartoonist Co-op has LOTS of great resources on building webcomic sites! Several of them! Check them all out!
@screentonescast has a podcast episode on webcomic web design and one on RSS feeds!
@jeypawlik also has a great comic about how RSS feeds work.
So, congrats if you made it this far. Go make a website, y'all! And if you read any indie comics, go visit the creator's website!
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cera-writes · 4 months
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Requesting Nightcrawler with a mutant who prefers animals to people. They tolerate and later fall for Kurt because he treats everyone and everything around him with gentleness and genuine care.
A/N: thanks for requesting this! I think we can all agree Kurt is a huge lover of animals <3 Pairing: Kurt Wagner x gn!reader Tags: Introvert/extrovert friendship, developing feelings, mutual respect, empathy, animal communication, feeling like an outsider, found family
Kindred Spirits
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The Danger Room hummed as it deactivated, the acrid tang of burnt wires filling the air. You sank against the deactivated training bot, massaging your temples. Another grueling session of hand-to-hand combat left you feeling drained. You weren't built for close-quarters fights. Your mutation, while interesting, wasn't exactly combat-oriented. You could converse with animals, understand their thoughts and emotions. A skill that, you often felt, was wasted in the X-Mansion's focus on battle.
A soft thud caught your attention. Nightcrawler perched on the bot beside you, his tail swishing gently. "Rough session?" he asked, his voice laced with concern that felt genuine, a rarity amongst the boisterous X-Men.
You shrugged, a low sigh escaping your lips. "It's not my forte." Truthfully, it wasn't just the fighting. You yearned for the quiet companionship of animals, a yearning your fellow X-Men didn't quite understand. They found solace in training, in the camaraderie of shared experiences. You craved the solitude of the woods, the gentle understanding of a curious deer or a wise old owl.
Nightcrawler tilted his head, his yellow eyes filled with empathy. "I understand," he said softly. "Sometimes, the chaos can be overwhelming. Even for someone who thrives on it."
You glanced at him, surprised. "You get it?"
"Of course," he chuckled, a sound like wind chimes. "Being different can sometimes make you feel like you don't belong. But that doesn't make you any less valuable."
His words struck a chord. You'd always felt like an outsider, more comfortable deciphering the chirps of sparrows than the banter of humans. Yet, there was Nightcrawler, a walking embodiment of "different," accepting you with open arms.
The following weeks saw an unexpected friendship blossom. You found yourself drawn to Nightcrawler's quiet gentleness. He wasn't just kind to people, but to everything around him. You watched him patiently soothe a scared kitty in a back alley, his voice a soothing murmur that calmed even the most agitated beast. He spoke to stray dogs on the city's streets, his words eliciting happy tail wags. You, the introvert, found yourself drawn out of your shell, enjoying the quiet conversations you shared with him, the gentle teasing tinged with a genuine respect that warmed your heart.
One afternoon at the park, you found him by the koi pond, his blue form a stark contrast to the vibrant fish. You approached hesitantly, your voice barely a whisper. "What are you doing?"
He looked up, a smile gracing his pointed features. "Just admiring the silence," he said, gesturing to the fish. "They have such a peaceful energy, don't they?"
You sat beside him, drawn to his peaceful aura. You confessed your introversion, your longing for the quiet companionship of animals. The words that usually felt awkward tumbled out easily, unburdened by judgment.
He listened intently, his expression filled with understanding. "Many find strength in crowds," he said softly, "but there's nothing wrong with finding solace in solitude. It's a different kind of strength, but strength nonetheless." He met your gaze with his warm yellow eyes. "And your ability to connect with animals," he continued, "that's a gift, Mein Freund. It shows a depth of empathy most people can only dream of."
His words filled you with a newfound sense of confidence. For the first time, you saw your introversion not as a weakness, but as a strength. And your connection with animals, a skill often scoffed at by others, was a gift.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the pond, you leaned your head against his shoulder, a silent gesture of gratitude. He didn't need words. His smile, warm and genuine, spoke volumes. In that quiet moment, you realized you weren't alone. You had found a kindred spirit, someone who understood your need for solitude, someone who saw the beauty in your differences, someone who, just like you, possessed a heart that resonated with the quiet whispers of the natural world.
A wistful look crossed Nightcrawler's face as he spoke of his past. "Back at the circus," he said softly, "I used to spend hours with the animals. They never judged me for my appearance. We understood each other in a way most humans couldn't."
You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. A silent understanding passed between you, a shared love for creatures who offered companionship without judgment. In that quiet moment, you realized you weren't alone. Not anymore.
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merao-mariposa · 7 months
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I'm weak for Phil/Missa with a worship focus
Think about this:
We're looking at the angel of death and a reaper of death.
We are seeing the guy who has survived everything since the beginning of time and the guy who keeps dying, and coming back, choosing what he always wants to return to.
They are united more than they should while one wields a sword to defend those he loves, the other clears the clouds in their loved ones path because he loves them! He wants them to be happy!
They will both forever remember those who were in their heart, The Antartic Empire and Team Vacío Legal lives forever, no matter how much time passes because they were loved by Philza and Missa; the most loyal immortals.
Oh! And something more; the focus on their immortality is so unique! When did I meet him I was told that; “The only thing Phil knows is that he has not died yet” But Missa I think is very aware of his death, he died, he died and he came back with a fourth chance when the others had until the third chance to return and he came back from the dead a fourth time. time, he would do it a fifth, sixth and seventh time he would do it all over again because he cares about.
While Philza in life gives everything of himself for people once they earn his loyalty, trust and appreciation. He won't stop being the same emotional-constipate-crow-dude but God knows he will follow his closest friends to the end of the world, he took the world alongside Technoblade and then he would destroyed another next to him! He is a patient crow, domesticated by death herselft (for whom he is waiting patiently to be with her) staying home and being domestic? He can do it, chaotic raiding dungeons and loting everything that makes his “shiny!” Brain go?, he won't say no. This man can do both if the people he cares ask him.
We have years of lore about Phil, I'll be honest. while we don't have much information about Missa but what we do have comes from HIM and US (his community) do you want a prince-ish son of la Santa muerte? He can be, do you want an labor overexploited reaper? poor thing lmao but here him is! Do you want him to be 26 (or more) meters high? well, ask the admins but no one will deny you //I have seen him ominous, savage, bear hybrid, anguished, violent, etc, the limit is in the imagination!
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(You have so many styles)
They worship each other by the way they complement each other. Just by thinking of Philza as the one who has not died, silent and anxious, waiting almost patiently for his complement, his missing half, the father of his children and his husband to return to him after literally being in the center of the end, the end of their life together, the end of watching his children grow and grow, until grow old (even though the mere thought of them aging beyond them breaks him)
After literally being in death and its domain only to choose to return, Missa would never believe in taking away Phil's free will so he's prepared to not see him there, he'll be fine; It is his right. Someone like him with the eternity in front of him would get bored of waiting for a guy like Missa.
Only to arrive and be absolutely adored and hugged till death (again) by his husband. He is happy to see him, he is so glad to see him waiting for him, Philza is happy that not so much of that so-called “time” has passed since the last time he had him in his arms (where Missas belongs to), so happy that their life together is not over yet. A life he loves and a husband he would fight for until he dies.
Obviously he drags him into the house where Missa is absolutely delighted to be welcomed (he always will be) like a crow carrying a new treasure to adore to its hiding place, only that Missa in his soul shines brighter than many of his shinys.
Missa is a reaper of death, literally a part of him feels explicitly built to respond to Phil as his angel or to BBH as a companion of duty, but it's too much, almost too instinctive and natural for him to worship Phil, not that he has a lot of experience but it is nothing like the crush he once had with Quakity, this is more real and deeper than the kiss he shared with Roier.
It's almost like nature for him to adore Philza.
And he doesn't make it any easier for poor Missa, so great and kind, Missa will always be vocal about how incredible and charming his husband is, how much he wants to spend time with him despite the adversities and hazards of the job that he does. prevent, they are worth it as long as he can be under his presence like a cat with sunlight.
It doesn't matter if Phil doesn't want him anymore because Missa is his because he decided it for himself/the skeleton isn't going anywhere, Phil is patient but as long as they are on the same earthly plane of life he is not going to let go of Missa, simply because he is loyal to him (hes also a little chaotic, not above dragging Missa around like putting a collar on a wet kitten)
En conclusión:
DEATHDUO KILL ME YAIIII :DDDD
❗️How we interpret their relationship does not change that Phil took the name “platonic husbands” correctly. (Pissa AND deathduo are totally valid, don't worry, we can get both :D )❗️
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