#we all have our own ways of looking at the world and at fiction and that's kind of important

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

all my other works

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

But with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[mrs-snape5984]

“Can we always be this close…forever and ever?”

“My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue. All's well that ends well to end up with you.” (“Lover” by Taylor Swift)

Today I want to share something more cheerful with all you lovely people of Snapedom, because - to be honest - considering my last few posts on this blog, they could suggest the idea, that I might not be the most zestful person around here. Well…guilty as charged! 😅So, please, take my apologies for my constant venting and complaining about ME/CFS and the ways, in which this bitch of a disease destroyed the life, I’ve known before. But this particular post will be dedicated to LOVE.

I know, I’m using this blog as my personal journal in order to cope with the hardships of my existence, always relying on my 21 years lasting connection with Severus Snape…who is undeniably the one true love of my life. Some of you might judge or mock me for being so pathetically devoted to a fictional character over such a long period of time, but believe me…my love for Severus is my safe haven!

Sure, I’ve tried to give other relationships a shot, but after some really traumatic experiences with men and women, as well as two failed marriages, I’m coming to the conclusion, that I’m better off alone. I must admit, that being doomed to endure a so called life in my bed, only surrounded by darkness and mostly solitude, definitely has an influence on this conviction. Who knows, if I’d have the same beliefs if I weren’t “un-dateable”…but this doesn’t matter anymore, since there’s still no cure for my disease.

And yet… (enter dramatic sigh here 😂)

And yet, I still believe in love, despite my own failures…despite all the pain, the sorrows, the humiliation and the traumas, I’ve been confronted with. I guess, being intelligent (or at least well educated) and overly realistic didn’t prevent me from being a hopeless romantic human being.

My adolescent twins are currently entering the phase of their first “loves”. I’ve taught my three children from the very beginning, that it doesn’t matter, who they love, unless they’re feeling safe and happy about it. My daughter is proud to have her first girlfriend, even though she’s already facing some difficulties in her environment, due to her frank nature to enjoy her crush. For me - a woman, who’s living openly bisexual 🏳️‍🌈 since I’ve been 14 years old - it’s absolutely unbelievable, that there are still so many people in our society, who seem to stick to their restrained beliefs about sexuality and gender. I will always try to support my children in their journey of self-acceptance and self-discovery.

So, yes, I still believe in love…no matter how this love might look like. Even though I’m confined to this prison, which is formed by my disease, I was allowed to find some kind of deep love in my friends. I want to share a short poem with you (written by Whitney Hanson for her book “Harmony”) which reminds me of the love, that I feel for these friends of mine:

I have always loved the way

Music could make the world feel

Like it doesn’t exist

As if suddenly all my fears

Are swept away

Who knew

That there are people out there

Who could make me feel the same way

Another love, which makes my heart swell with joy, is my love to all those amazingly talented artists of Snapedom, for whom I’m rolling out the red carpet on my blog, by using their art as my very personal soothing balm for my troubled heart and soul. This time, I’ve commissioned the lovely @kruzbr for the very first time. I’ve been fallen for their Severitus comics, so I asked them to help me out with making my own version of Severitus, together with my undeniably self-inspired OC Jules, come to life.

Anderson, your understanding of my ideas and your kindness made it a pleasure for me to join the process of creating this mesmerising masterpiece of art. I’m beyond grateful for your service and I can assure you, that this won’t be the last time, I will commission you for another adventure of Sevy & Jules. The next idea is already stuck in my mind, so keep an eye on your postbox! Thank you for everything, my dear!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[pigeonclaw]

Big ramble ahead but, okay. It kind of bothers me when people say Cinderpelt was forced to become a medicine cat. That language would seem to imply that she was forbidden from becoming a warrior, when that just... wasn't the situation.

After breaking her leg, she couldn’t walk properly. Travel became slow and exhausting for her, and as a result, everyone was worried that she couldn’t be a warrior. Up until this point in her life, becoming a warrior was the path basically everyone took, and if she couldn’t physically handle warrior duties, she feared that she was useless. But Yellowfang appreciated her company in the medicine den. She started giving her tasks to help her feel useful, and Cinderpelt began to regain some of her self esteem. After she had been helping out in the medicine den — not as an apprentice, but as a friend — for some time, Yellowfang made it clear how valuable she was as an assistant. When she eventually offered to take her on as an apprentice, Cinderpelt was overjoyed. She loved the crabby old cat and the work she did for her, and she was very dedicated to both.

I think the idea that her life was a tragedy because she switched to medicine cat training comes not from the first arc where her story actually takes place, but from Power of Three. When you’re years removed from a narrative, it’s very easy to think back on it and recontextualize it to fit into your own mindset. And that’s exactly what Power of Three did to her. In that arc, we do have a disabled protagonist forced to become a medicine cat (which is an even more complex topic), and Cinderpelt’s reincarnation of sorts as Cinderheart for the purpose of living the life she was supposedly meant to have. It’s... a bit of a tricky issue, because the notion that her life was a waste because of her disability is... troubling, to say the least. And the interpretation that her life was a waste because she didn’t cling stubbornly to the warrior path isn’t much better.

The reason this bothers me is because I feel, based on the books she's actually alive in, that she lived a full life (or would have, had she not died young). Cinderpelt wanted to be a warrior, yes. Her entire culture glorifies being a warrior more than anything. After her injury, she had to give up on that dream and pick up another. And she was a fantastic medicine cat! Before she was even officially made Yellowfang’s apprentice, she was praised for her enthusiasm, good memory, efficiency, and trustworthiness. It’s pointed out that she’s a quick learner and good with patients, and we see this regularly too. She was very determined, always going out of her way to do the right thing, even when she wasn’t allowed to. And this, combined with her medicinal skills, allowed her to touch so many lives. Cinderpelt didn’t accomplish the things she planned for when she was little, but her potential was not lost.

I’m not claiming that Warriors isn’t ableist at times. But I notice a tendency for folks to reframe every disabled character’s life as a sad tale of someone being forced to give up their dreams and live a worse life because no one believed in them — even when that isn’t really the case. Disability is a very complicated and sensitive subject that needs to be written with more care than it often is. But for a character to face limitations due to their disability, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad writing and/or the abled characters around them are terrible. For a character to lose something as big as their dream, their goals, their ability to keep up with their peers... I don’t believe that alone is unrealistic or cruel. What matters far more for me in a story is how the disabled character handles their limitations and where they go from there. Please understand, also, that sometimes handling limitations is not the same as overcoming them. Not everything can be overcome. What’s important is what you do with what you have.

I may not have a twisted leg, but I do have a neurological disorder that has impacted every area of my life at one point or another. My spasms have been severe enough to injure me many times, and for years I couldn’t learn to drive because I was too afraid (and often rightly so) that it would be unsafe with my condition. I eventually had to give up on my education and dream job because of my failing health in general. For a long while, I was afraid I could never amount to anything because I couldn’t do any of the things I’d been aiming for since childhood. But with time, my situation has changed. I aimed for more realistic goals, bearing in mind that my disorder is made far worse by stress and exhaustion. My symptoms are less severe these days because I’m no longer stressing myself out trying to force my way through a career that my disability is simply not compatible with. Things aren’t perfect. But I’m figuring out a better way to proceed.

I think you get the picture. What I’m trying to say, and what Cinderpelt’s story means to me... is that having to give up on something doesn’t mean you’ve wasted your life, it doesn’t mean that you’re worth any less, and it certainly doesn’t mean you’ve been defeated. When bad things happen, you may not be able to return to how life was before. And maybe that’s okay.

[covertblizzard]

the world when dc fans realise that sometimes people have different headcanons and ideas about characters and storyline and plots because comics inherently are kinda minimalistic + contradictory with lots of different possible reading and interpretations and that doesn't make someone else's opinion wrong just different and you don't have to hate on everything that you don't agree with:

[leebrontide]

Every single time I see a take that amounts to "if you write about X happening, or like fiction where X happens, you like X" I'm reminded of this one time I was at a casual friends house as a young kid. We were in her room, pretending to "be orphans" escaping from an evil orphanage and having to take care of each other and fend for ourselves. It was all very Little Orphan Annie/All Dogs Go to Heaven and based on the 80s pop media.

And this girl's mom comes in, hears what we're playing and gets all MAD and UPSET. She says that if we play act something, it's because we want it to happen. So her daughter must WANT HER TO DIE.

First off lady, we were 6 year year olds, so take it down several notches. We barely had a concept of mortality for fucks sake. She made us feel so guilty and ashamed, because she was taking our game personally.

Now I have a 5 year old. And sometimes she looks at me and says "pretend you're dead, and I have to -" Whatever it is. Some adult task she's assigned herself.

And it's just so transparently obvious that she's practicing the idea of having to do things on her own. Which is exactly what 5 year olds are supposed to do. I actually find it very flattering that the only way she can envision me not being available to help her is to be literally deceased. Otherwise, obviously, she wouldn't have to do scary hard things alone.

It's a natural coping mechanism. She's self-soothing about what would happen if I wasn't there by play-acting independence in a perfectly safe environment. She's also practicing skills she needs, and making up excuses for practicing them on her own, without taking on the responsibility of being able to do them by herself all the time yet.

Humans mentally rehearse bad this in their brains all the time. We can do that by ruminating- going over worries over and over again, which tends to lead to anxiety and helplessness and depression. Or we can do it with a sense of play- by recognizing that the fiction is fiction and we can dip our toe into these experiences and expose ourselves to bad things without actually being injured.

My daughter does not want me dead. And I don't want bad things to happen in real life. But fiction and pretend help me face the horrors of the world and think about them without collapsing or messing myself up mentally.

[dykepuffs]

How Do I Make My Fictional Gypsies Not Racist?

(Or, "You can't, sorry, but…")

You want to include some Gypsies in your fantasy setting. Or, you need someone for your main characters to meet, who is an outsider in the eyes of the locals, but who already lives here. Or you need a culture in conflict with your settled people, or who have just arrived out of nowhere. Or, you just like the idea of campfires in the forest and voices raised in song. And you’re about to step straight into a muckpile of cliches and, accidentally, write something racist.

(In this, I am mostly using Gypsy as an endonym of Romany people, who are a subset of the Romani people, alongside Roma, Sinti, Gitano, Romanisael, Kale, etc, but also in the theory of "Gypsying" as proposed by Lex and Percy H, where Romani people are treated with a particular mix of orientalism, criminalisation, racialisation, and othering, that creates "The Gypsy" out of both nomadic peoples as a whole and people with Romani heritage and racialised physical features, languages, and cultural markers)

Enough of my friends play TTRPGs or write fantasy stories that this question comes up a lot - They mention Dungeons and Dragons’ Curse Of Strahd, World Of Darkness’s Gypsies, World Of Darkness’s Ravnos, World of Darkness’s Silent Striders… And they roll their eyes and say “These are all terrible! But how can I do it, you know, without it being racist?”

And their eyes are big and sad and ever so hopeful that I will tell them the secret of how to take the Roma of the real world and place them in a fictional one, whilst both appealing to gorjer stereotypes of Gypsies and not adding to the weight of stereotyping that already crushes us. So, disappointingly, there is no secret.

Gypsies, like every other real-world culture, exist as we do today because of interactions with cultures and geography around us: The living waggon, probably the archetypal thing which gorjer writers want to include in their portrayals of nomads, is a relatively modern invention - Most likely French, and adopted from French Showmen by Romanies, who brought it to Britain. So already, that’s a tradition that only spans a small amount of the time that Gypsies have existed, and only a small number of the full breadth of Romani ways of living. But the reasons that the waggon is what it is are based on the real world - The wheels are tall and iron-rimmed, because although you expect to travel on cobbled, tarmac, or packed-earth roads and for comparatively short distances, it wasn’t rare to have to ford a river in Britain in the late nineteenth century, on country roads. They were drawn by a single horse, and the shape of that horse was determined by a mixture of local breeds - Welsh cobs, fell ponies, various draft breeds - as well as by the aesthetic tastes of the breeders. The stove inside is on the left, so that as you move down a British road, the chimney sticks up into the part where there will be the least overhanging branches, to reduce the chance of hitting it.

So taking a fictional setting that looks like (for example) thirteenth century China (with dragons), and placing a nineteenth century Romanichal family in it will inevitably result in some racist assumptions being made, as the answer to “Why does this culture do this?” becomes “They just do it because I want them to” rather than having a consistent internal logic.

Some stereotypes will always follow nomads - They appear in different forms in different cultures, but they always arise from the settled people's same fears: That the nomads don't share their values, and are fundamentally strangers. Common ones are that we have a secret language to fool outsiders with, that we steal children and disguise them as our own, that our sexual morals are shocking (This one has flipped in the last half century - From the Gypsy Lore Society's talk of the lascivious Romni seductress who will lie with a strange man for a night after a 'gypsy wedding', to today's frenzied talk of 'grabbing' and sexually-conservative early marriages to ensure virginity), that we are supernatural in some way, and that we are more like animals than humans. These are tropes where if you want to address them, you will have to address them as libels - there is no way to casually write a baby-stealing, magical succubus nomad without it backfiring onto real life Roma. (The kind of person who has the skills to write these tropes well, is not the kind of person who is reading this guide.)

It’s too easy to say a list of prescriptive “Do nots”, which might stop you from making the most common pitfalls, but which can end up with your nomads being slightly flat as you dance around the topics that you’re trying to avoid, rather than being a rich culture that feels real in your world.

So, here are some questions to ask, to create your nomadic people, so that they will have a distinctive culture of their own that may (or may not) look anything like real-world Romani people: These aren't the only questions, but they're good starting points to think about before you make anything concrete, and they will hopefully inspire you to ask MORE questions.

First - Why are they nomadic? Nobody moves just to feel the wind in their hair and see a new horizon every morning, no matter what the inspirational poster says. Are they transhumant herders who pay a small rent to graze their flock on the local lord’s land? Are they following migratory herds across common land, being moved on by the cycle of the seasons and the movement of their animals? Are they seasonal workers who follow man-made cycles of labour: Harvests, fairs, religious festivals? Are they refugees fleeing a recent conflict, who will pass through this area and never return? Are they on a regular pilgrimage? Do they travel within the same area predictably, or is their movement governed by something that is hard to predict? How do they see their own movements - Do they think of themselves as being pushed along by some external force, or as choosing to travel? Will they work for and with outsiders, either as employees or as partners, or do they aim to be fully self-sufficient? What other jobs do they do - Their whole society won’t all be involved in one industry, what do their children, elderly, disabled people do with their time, and is it “work”?

If they are totally isolationist - How do they produce the things which need a complex supply chain or large facilities to make? How do they view artefacts from outsiders which come into their possession - Things which have been made with technology that they can’t produce for themselves? (This doesn’t need to be anything about quality of goods, only about complexity - A violin can be made by one artisan working with hand tools, wood, gut and shellac, but an accordion needs presses to make reeds, metal lathes to make screws, complex organic chemistry to make celluloid lacquer, vulcanised rubber, and a thousand other components)

How do they feel about outsiders? How do they buy and sell to outsiders? If it’s seen as taboo, do they do it anyway? Do they speak the same language as the nearby settled people (With what kind of fluency, or bilingualism, or dialect)? Do they intermarry, and how is that viewed when it happens? What stories does this culture tell about why they are a separate people to the nearby settled people? Are those stories true? Do they have a notional “homeland” and do they intend to go there? If so, is it a real place?

What gorjers think of as classic "Gipsy music" is a product of our real-world situation. Guitar from Spain, accordions from the Soviet Union (Which needed modern machining and factories to produce and make accessible to people who weren't rich- and which were in turn encouraged by Soviet authorities preferring the standardised and modern accordion to the folk traditions of the indigenous peoples within the bloc), brass from Western classical traditions, via Balkan folk music, influences from klezmer and jazz and bhangra and polka and our own music traditions (And we influence them too). What are your people's musical influences? Do they make their own instruments or buy them from settled people? How many musical traditions do they have, and what are they all for (Weddings, funerals, storytelling, campfire songs, entertainment...)? Do they have professional musicians, and if so, how do those musicians earn money? Are instrument makers professionals, or do they use improvised and easy-to-make instruments like willow whistles, spoons, washtubs, etc? (Of course the answer can be "A bit of both")

If you're thinking about jobs - How do they work? Are they employed by settled people (How do they feel about them?) Are they self employed but providing services/goods to the settled people? Are they mostly avoidant of settled people other than to buy things that they can't produce themselves? Are they totally isolationist? Is their work mostly subsistence, or do they create a surplus to sell to outsiders? How do they interact with other workers nearby? Who works, and how- Are there 'family businesses', apprentices, children with part time work? Is it considered 'a job' or just part of their way of life? How do they educate their children, and is that considered 'work'? How old are children when they are considered adult, and what markers confer adulthood? What is considered a rite of passage?

When they travel, how do they do it? Do they share ownership of beasts of burden, or each individually have "their horse"? Do families stick together or try to spread out? How does a child begin to live apart from their family, or start their own family? Are their dwellings something that they take with them, or do they find places to stay or build temporary shelter with disposable material? Who shares a dwelling and why? What do they do for privacy, and what do they think privacy is for?

If you're thinking about food - Do they hunt? Herd? Forage? Buy or trade from settled people? Do they travel between places where they've sown crops or managed wildstock in previous years, so that when they arrive there is food already seeded in the landscape? How do they feel about buying food from settled people, and is that common? If it's frowned upon - How much do people do it anyway? How do they preserve food for winter? How much food do they carry with them, compared to how much they plan to buy or forage at their destinations? How is food shared- Communal stores, personal ownership?

Why are they a "separate people" to the settled people? What is their creation myth? Why do they believe that they are nomadic and the other people are settled, and is it correct? Do they look different? Are there legal restrictions on them settling? Are there legal restrictions on them intermixing? Are there cultural reasons why they are a separate people? Where did those reasons come from? How long have they been travelling? How long do they think they've been travelling? Where did they come from? Do they travel mostly within one area and return to the same sites predictably, or are they going to move on again soon and never come back?

And then within that - What about the members of their society who are "unusual" in some way: How does their society treat disabled people? (are they considered disabled, do they have that distinction and how is it applied?) How does their society treat LGBT+ people? What happens to someone who doesn't get married and has no children? What happens to someone who 'leaves'? What happens to young widows and widowers? What happens if someone just 'can't fit in'? What happens to someone who is adopted or married in? What happens to people who are mixed race, and in a fantasy setting to people who are mixed species? What is taboo to them and what will they find shocking if they leave? What is society's attitude to 'difference' of various kinds?

Basically, if you build your nomads from the ground-up, rather than starting from the idea of "I want Gypsies/Buryats/Berbers/Minceiri but with the numbers filed off and not offensive" you can end up with a rich, unique nomadic culture who make sense in your world and don't end up making a rod for the back of real-world cultures.

[gureumz]

project aphrodite

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

premise: in a post-apocalyptic world, you and jungwon are excellent scientists and are at the relative top of the list of people who are ideal parents for the next generation of this dying world. it's now your job to repopulate this earth so you ask your co-worker to pretty please knock you up.

notes: sci-fi elements, dystopian au, scientist!reader, scientist!jungwon, fem-bodied reader, reader is referred to as a woman, dom!jungwon, breeding, impreg kink (like heavily), dirty talk, platonic (?) breeding, co-workers with benefits (?), idk this is kinda speculative fiction but also suspend your disbelief a bit lol

a/n: first of my 1k follower special! not quite sure what order i'm following here but i hope you stay for the ride nonetheless! enjoy!

it's a strange feeling.

in your line of work, 'strange' is hardly any cause for concern. as a biologist with a concentration in genetics, you've seen all the ways nature does its job. from the familiar concepts almost all people learn about in science class like the basic 'mom-meets-dad-equals-baby' to the eerie methods organisms in the deep sea evolve to survive.

you've learned about it all, pored over each punnett square, stressed over the formulas. so, this shouldn't be anything to worry about.

and yet, you're still worried.

"i mean...what did we expect?" jay speaks up from beside you, eyeing the phone in his hand.

"we're presently some of the world's most brilliant minds so...," he adds, locking his phone before hunching over his desk. to your ears, it sounds as if he's trying to convince himself rather than you.

you scan over the document flashed on your own laptop screen. the harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz nonstop, going on and on, a background hum all of you in the bunker have grown used to. at this moment, it lulls you into a daydream, vision swimming as you repeat the words in your head.

all government personnel with a status level 7 and higher are recommended to partake in project aphrodite. those falling under level 10 are strictly required. participation at this level is compulsory.

common citizens with a status of 9 to 10 are also required to participate. ample compensation for those successful will be provided.

"you're a level 8. it's not as if you have to," you mutter, fingers digging into your temples.

jay snickers. "how many level 10 government personnel are there in this ruined world? a few hundred or so doctors, another few hundred scientists, even fewer world leaders. that's not taking into account the difference in sex. my information's not up to date but last time i checked, there is a hell of a lot more men than there are women. it's a shitshow waiting to happen."

you turn to meet jay's eyes, not meaning to convey any certain emotion, but the way jay's expression falls leads you to believe that you look way more upset than you're letting on.

"oh shit, yeah," jay curses. "you're a level 10. i forgot."

you sigh, tilting your head back against the headrest of your seat.

"i'm sure they'll release more regulation soon," you begin. "this is just the initial memo. with our world hanging in the balance as it is, no one's gonna let this devolve into some patriarchal anarchy, i hope."

"yeah, of course," you hear jay agree. "most of the proponents of project aphrodite are women, anyway, so i'm sure they'll take extra measures to keep you safe."

you sit up straight, looking at jay once more. "this is the world, huh?"

you and jay pause before sharing a quick chuckle.

"'go make babies, or else,'" you say in a mock radio announcer voice. jay lets out a laugh, his voice echoing off the empty office walls.

the two of you fall into silence, as if retreating to your respective thoughts. all that's in your mind at this moment is your current project, the very thing the few people more powerful than you had assigned for you to do: leading your team in stopping that godforsaken virus ravaging the outside. you've been making steady progress so far, but with the weight of this new responsibility, you're not sure if you could keep the momentum up.

you realize with a passing thought that most of the scientists on your team are level 9s and 10s.

"well," you begin before you could stop yourself. you're suddenly overcome with a feeling of suffocation, the office space seemingly too small and continuously growing even smaller.

"i hope you find someone you'd like to procreate with," you say lightly, pushing yourself off your chair. you quickly gather your things: folders and binders and other loose papers in your arms.

you catch jay looking at you, a pensive look on his face. you stop as you're grabbing your reusable coffee jug.

"no," you deadpan. "not me."

jay's eyes widen, as if realizing he'd said something without really saying anything.

"i—no, wait—i mean...," jay stutters, ears quickly turning red.

you smile, patting jay's shoulder reassuringly. "in case you were thinking about it."

jay's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water and you can't help but laugh.

"these are desperate times, but i'm hoping it's not too desperate," you add. without waiting for a response, you turn towards the door, already making your way to it.

"besides, dr. isa lee seems more your type," you say over your shoulder one last time before pushing the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

---

"hey."

you look up from the microscope, tearing your attention away from the specimen you were examining. your eyes readjust to their normal focal length as a tall figure enters the lab, perfectly crisp white coat hanging off his broad shoulders, thin-wired spectacles resting on the bridge of his tall, straight nose. your lips feel strangely parched as he makes direct eye contact with you and you're left with no choice but to moisten them with your tongue.

"oh hi, dr. yang."

the other scientist chuckles, setting down a stack of papers on a desk in the corner. "i've been here for three weeks. please, call me jungwon."

you swallow. "right. jungwon."

dr. jungwon yang was a new import from the seoul bunker, having come to your own area's bunker merely a few weeks prior. he was immediately put under your supervision, an addition to your already elite team of biologists, geneticists, and virologists. off the bat, you could tell he was a man of many talents, coming up with unconventional solutions and arriving at answers quicker than anyone else.

his presence in your lab made your heart swell. in pride, adoration, or desire, you're not quite sure.

"uh, yesterday's results are in that binder over there, in case you want to go over them," you begin. jungwon walks over to your side of the long table, peering over the slide loaded into the microscope.

ignoring the way he brushes ever so slightly against you, you continue. "the director's dropping by later this afternoon, but i wouldn't be too bothered with that. he's just looking for someone to blame for the slow progress at this point. if only they could get us those materials we asked for..."

"have you read the memo?" jungwon asks abruptly, straightening up. he towers over you, his eyes downcast as he stares at your face.

"of course, you've read the memo," jungwon corrects himself, chuckling. "what i meant was...what do you think of it?"

"it's a government-issued memo, it hardly matters what i think," you respond, focusing back on your work in front of you, although all you do is stare blankly at the moving microorganisms, mind unfocused with how much of jungwon's perfume you can smell.

"it's your reproductive health that's on the line. i'm pretty sure your opinion counts for something," jungwon says with a pinch in between his eyebrows.

oh, a feminist. that's even hotter.

"okay, yeah. i appreciate the new guidelines they put out," you admit, looking back up at jungwon. "though it's the bare minimum, i'm glad they're letting us keep the autonomy of choosing who to...boink."

jungwon laughs at that.

"and free fertility drugs for anyone who wants or needs it. oh, also, thank god they didn't have the brilliant idea of putting a time limit on it. having read some crazy speculative fiction myself, the things people are willing to do in fiction are crazy. who's to say they can't do the same in real life?" you continue.

you don't notice the way jungwon's smirk grows as he listens.

"kind of makes the whole thing unsexy, don't you think?" jungwon cuts in, raising an eyebrow. you blink, unsure of what he's talking about.

"i'm surprised they're not monitoring us with cameras and hooking us up to EKGs and shit," he adds.

"oh," you say with a soft giggle, finally catching on. "i'm sure some people are into being watched."

"are you?" jungwon asks.

"am i what?" you answer.

"into being watched."

a pause.

you shake your head. "how about you?"

"oh no," jungwon says. "i prefer to keep what's mine for my eyes only."

"hm. possessive. that's kind of sexy," you mumble under your breath, a sudden surge of confidence coursing through you.

jungwon just stares at you, but you can see his pupils dance in amusement, taking in your whole face and all your features. you might have imagined it but he seemed to have peeked down at your chest for a second.

"do you think it's attractive for someone to be into lego-building? or at least, used to be into it. i'd give an arm and a leg for a complete lego set nowadays," jungwon asks, leaning against the table, and only now do you notice the veins running over the back of his hands.

you think about whether his arms are just as veiny.

"do you think it's a good trait to pass on an offspring? lego-building, i mean," he presses on.

"uh, yeah. good problem-solving skills," you answer, humoring his question.

jungwon nods. "do you think leadership skills are important?"

you smile, leaning against the cabinet opposite jungwon. you nudge his foot lightly. "i lead a team of scientists myself. of course, i think leadership skills are important."

"you and i both," jungwon agrees.

jungwon shifts, placing his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

"how about dimples? do you think dimples are cute?" jungwon asks once more, one corner of his mouth upturned. a deep crease on his cheek appears.

a dimple.

"very," you admit.

"i see."

there's a silence that stretches over the two of you, and the weight of uncertainty is daunting as you stare at a spot on jungwon's tie. finally, after a few seconds, you heave a sigh, unable to take the tension any longer.

"this is the weirdest way anyone has ever flirted with me," you declare, looking up at jungwon through your lashes. he's grinning and you nearly shiver at how utterly attractive you're finding him at this moment.

"but it's effective," jungwon says. that was a statement, not a question.

you tilt your head to the side. "how do you know?"

"because you would have blown me off two minutes ago if it wasn't," jungwon reasons, crossing his arms. by doing this, he just made himself appear even wider than he is.

"always so calculated," you say, impressed.

you stretch your neck, easing your head from side to side, watching as jungwon fixes his gaze on the taut tendons of your neck. "are you also this precise in bed, dr. yang?"

jungwon approaches, a large hand resting on your hip. "that's for you to find out."

your breath hitches as you feel his thumb rub through the fabric of your skirt.

"later?" he asks.

"my place or yours?" you reply, fingertips grazing the front of his polo. you can just about feel the slope and ridges of his toned muscles.

"i'd like to be a gentleman, so mine," jungwon offers. "i'll walk you back to your room after."

"i was kind of hoping i wouldn't need to walk back after," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice.

"is that a challenge?" jungwon says, his other hand pressing firmly on your lower back. he pulls you to him and your hands involuntarily reach out towards his shoulders to steady yourself.

a few seconds pass before any of you speak again.

"that's for you to find out," you say.

---

"kind of weird, isn't it?" jungwon asks, panting against your neck.

your back is pressed firmly against one wall of his sleeping quarters, a wide, loft-like room, similar to yours. a luxury offered only to level 10 government personnel, the room gives its occupants enough space and enough privacy.

and boy, did you need privacy.

"what's weird?" you say breathily, fingers threading through jungwon's hair as he kisses down the column of your neck. his fingers nimbly undo the buttons of your blouse and you whimper when you feel him lick at the valley between your breasts.

"coming up to coworkers or friends then asking them to reproduce with you," jungwon responds, tugging your blouse off of your shoulders.

(you both held enough respect for the institution that employed you both, so your work lab coats were neatly thrown over the back of jungwon's couch before anything got too frisky.)

"see, it's the way you say it that makes it weird," you giggle. you pull jungwon back up to your face, kissing him fervently, tongue licking into his mouth.

"oh yeah? how would you say it?" jungwon challenges as he pulls away slightly, his nose grazing your cheek. he licks a stripe on the underside of your jaw.

"please, jungwon," you whimper, playing up the whine in your voice just a little bit. "need you to knock me up. make me pregnant, please."

jungwon grunts in your ear, reaching behind you to rip the zipper of your skirt down. you let the fabric fall to the floor, stepping out of it quickly, revealing the matching red lace panties you had in tandem with your bra.

"yeah? want me to cum inside you so many times that there won't even be the tiniest chance that you're not pregnant?" jungwon says lowly, kneading one of your boobs in his hands.

you nod, hooking a leg around jungwon's hip, pushing your core right up against the bulge in his pants.

"yes," you breathe out, dragging your clothed pussy over his straining cock. "let's be good citizens and have a whole bunch of kids, yeah?"

jungwon chuckles, hands hurriedly working on his belt. you take this time to kiss up his neck, still rutting against him, desperate for any contact.

"come here," jungwon says through gritted teeth as his pants and boxers fall to the floor. he kicks them off unceremoniously, yanking you towards the couch. your eyes briefly catch the flash of white that were your lab coats.

the two of you fall onto the cushiony surface, with jungwon sitting up and you falling a little less gracefully on him. the two of you laugh as you adjust yourself, righting your posture so you could look at jungwon.

"take this off," jungwon commands, pulling at your panties. you swing off jungwon for a moment, pulling off the garment in record time. you reposition yourself over jungwon, his cock standing tall, hard, and painfully red.

"come on, show me how bad you want those kids," jungwon teases, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you roll your eyes. "you gotta help with the diapers."

a second later, you sink down on jungwon, moaning wantonly at how much he stretches you out, filling you up effortlessly. jungwon throws his head back, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

"i'll quit my fucking job at the lab if this is how good it feels to make babies with you," jungwon groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

you whimper at his words, rocking back and forth on his lap. you angle your hips a certain way, the tip of his cock kissing at just the perfect spot inside you. you shudder, repeating your movement.

"god, you feel amazing," jungwon praises. "so warm, so tight."

"yeah," you respond. you're gliding up and down his cock, swiveling your hips as fast as you can. you clench down around him, the thought of jungwon cumming inside you your only motivation.

"filling me up so good," you add, watching as jungwon screws his eyes shut, neck shiny with sweat.

you move forward, attaching your lips just below jungwon's ear. you suckle on the salty skin, running your tongue over the spot, savoring the way jungwon lets a moan rip out of him.

"gotta let the whole bunker know this one's mine," you whisper as you let up on jungwon's neck. a faint red spot is left in the wake of your lips on his skin.

in a blink of an eye, your whole world tumbles upside down, jungwon's hands forcing you down on the couch by your waist. in a daze, you realize that jungwon has you pinned under him, his eyes wild with a hungry look in them. he pushes your legs right up against your chest, lining himself up with your entrance.

"the moment you start showing, no one in this goddamn bunker will have a single doubt who gave you that baby," jungwon counters, thrusting into you. he gives you no time to adjust, picking up where you left off.

you cry out, trying to anchor yourself on anything your hands can find. eventually, you find purchase in jungwon's shoulders. he feels your nails digging in, and he mutters a soft 'fuck', speeding up his movements, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours so incredibly obscene in the confined space of his room.

"give it to me, please," you say, meeting jungwon's eyes as he continues to fuck into you. his forehead is creased, a look of concentration washing over his face.

"cum inside, fill me up as many times as you want, fuck it deep in me," you continue, cradling jungwon's face in your hands, the tender gesture a contrast to how rough he's bein.

"god," jungwon groans, voice breaking at the end as he speeds up, but then he halts abruptly, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. you feel him twitch inside you and you gasp, clenching down as hard as you can.

"fuck, yes, milk it all out," jungwon says. he starts to thrust up into you again, watching as his cock is slowly coated with his cum spreading all over your cushy walls.

you whine, your fingers finding their way down to your cunt, your middle and ring finger pressing onto your clit. you rub at it ferociously, the idea of jungwon's sticky release inside of you turning you on impossibly.

"i'm getting hard again, jesus christ," jungwon complains but his movements don't cease. he's shaking from the overstimulation but he wraps his arms around you, pulling your limp form up against him.

"rub that pretty pussy for me, babe," jungwon requests, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"make yourself cum while i fill you up for a second time."

---

"so?"

you jump a little at the sudden intrusion. you look up at jungwon through both of your reflections in your bathroom mirror. three pregnancy tests lie in a neat line on the edge of the sink.

"i just started the timer, jungwon," you reply with a laugh. jungwon turns you around to face him, kissing you briefly.

"hm," you say, looking up at jungwon questioningly. "you never kiss me unless you want something."

"well," jungwon begins, hands slipping under your sweater. "we can always kill time while we wait for the results."

you shake your head, but you're already pressing yourself up against jungwon. "you're insatiable, dr. yang."

jungwon winks at you, undoing your bra under your shirt. "you know it."

"plus, you just look too good in this damn lab coat."

[demontobee]

Good Omens is queering TV/storytelling - part 1: GAZE

I would argue that part of why Good Omens is so refreshingly queer is because it does not cater to the male gaze (which centers around the preferences - aesthetic, romantic, sexual, visual, logical, emotional, political ... - of mainly white men in positions of power):

no oversexualization of groups or types of people: Women or characters that could be read as female presenting are not overly sexualized. In fact, some of them are shown to be grimy, slimy and not sexual at all. All of them are real characters and not just cardboard-cutout on-screen versions of male misogynistic fantasies. They portray real people with real people problems. They are human, or exempt from our categories when portraying angels or demons. There are no overly sexualized bodies in general (as has so far also often been the case with young gay men, PoC, etc.), no fetishization of power imbalances, and not exclusively youthful depiction of love and desire.

sex or sexual behavior is not shown directly (yet): All imagery and symbolism of sex and sexuality is used not to entice the audience but is very intimately played out between characters, which makes it almost uncomfortable to watch (e.g., Aziraphale being tempted to eat meat, Crowley watching Aziraphale eat, the whole gun imagery).

flaunting heteronormativity: Throughout GO but especially GO2, there is very little depiction of heterosexual/romantic couples; most couples are very diverse and no one is making a fuss about it. There is no fetishization of bodies or identities. Just people (and angels and demons) being their beautiful selves (or trying to).

age: Even though Neil Gaiman explained that Crowley and Aziraphale are middle-aged because the actors are, I think it is also queering the idea of romance, love and desire existing mainly within youthful contexts. Male gaze has taught us that young people falling and being in love is what we have to want to see, and any depiction of love that involves people being not exactly young anymore is either part of a fetishized power imbalance (often with an older dude using his power to prey on younger folx) or presents us with marital problems, loss of desire, etc. – all with undertones of decay and patronizing sympathy. Here, however, we get a beautifully crafted, slow-burn, and somehow super realistic love story that centers around beings older than time and presenting as humans in their 50s figuring out how to deal with love. It makes them both innocent and experienced, in a way that is refreshing and heartbreaking and unusual and real.

does not (exclusively) center around romantic/sexual love: I don’t know if this is a gaze point exactly but I feel like male gaze and resulting expectations of what a love story should look like are heavily responsible for our preoccupation with romantic/sexual love in fiction – the “boy gets girl” type of story. And even though, technically, GO seems to focus on a romantic love story in the end, it is also possible to read this relationship but also the whole show as centering around a kind of love that goes beyond the narrow confines of our conditioned boxed-in thinking. It seems to depict a love of humanity and the world and the universe and just the ineffability of existence as a whole.

disability as beautiful and innate to existence: Disability is represented amongst angels by the extremely cool Saraqael and by diversely disabled unnamed angels in the Job minisode. Representation of disability is obviously super important in its own right, but is also queers what we perceive as aesthetically and ontologically "normal". Male gaze teaches us that youth and (physical and mental) health are the desirable standard and everything else is to be seen as a deviance, a mistake. By including disability among the angels, beings that have existed before time and space, the show clearly states that disability is a beautiful and innate part of existence.

gender is optional/obsolete: Characters like Crowley, Muriel and others really undermine the (visual and aesthetic) boundaries of gender and the black-and-white thinking about gender that informs male gaze. Characters cannot be identfied simply as (binary) men or women anymore just by looking at them or by interpreting their personalities or behaviors. Most characters in GO, and especially the more genderqueer ones, display a balance of feminine and masculine traits as well as indiosyncracies that dissolve the gender binary.

Feel free to add your own thoughts on this in the comments or tags!

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire us • l.n ❞ ii

part one - part three

➪ life changed after you decided to go through it as a single woman, offering your daughter the best life she deserves, focusing on work, friends and family but damn, that guy.

➪ your friends are up to no good while you make another life changing decision.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles (platonic) x lando

➪ you really thought i was gonna keep my babies apart? Y/n's 2nd child = millie & are text messages between millie and Manon ;)

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y/nusername

📍 Paris, France

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 476,321 others

y/nusername 🏡

view all 1,312 comments

chilisainz ah you're telling me this is not a happy little family? 👀

↳ yukisan just a couple of besties spending every single free minute together 🥰

chilisainz like all besties do 🥰

julieeeexo this is a last warning for zoë..stop growing

hamilt44n girl I wanna live in Paris, are you looking for a roommate?

landitonorris so you're telling me our girl flew to the UK to 'hang out' with lando and they flew back to Paris together to 'hang out' with each other at y/n her place?

↳ sharl16 they'll probably fly to Japan together as well 😅

landitonorris but they're just friends though 😉

sharl16 oh yeah for sure!!!!!!!!!

milliexoxo ...but when I ask for a sleepover you say no :(

milliexoxo ...just say you don't like me and logan

↳ norry4 love makes blind bestie, you're on your own 😔

y/nusername so dramatic and for what? :')

landonorris princess bed sleept amazing

bott_ass you're not fooling anyone my guy, you're sleeping in the same bed 😂

norrizz actually living my dream life

charles_leclerc my pretty princess ❤️

↳ landonorris thank you, you're a pretty princess too ❤️

landoscar I love this dad and (ex?)stepdad dynamic <3

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y/nusername posted to their story

manon_roux replied to your story

manon_roux

cutest little girl in the world ♡

I'm talking about zoë

kidding you cute too

Also, you can't convince me lando's able to keep his hands to himself at night when you're looking like that next to him in bed

or does he really sleep in zoë's tiny ass princess bed?

I know you're ignoring me

what secrets are you hiding from me girl?

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y/nusername

liked by milliexoxo, landonorris and 541,387 others

y/nusername 🇯🇵

tagged: milliexoxo

view all 1,619 comments

sharl16 babe is okay, you can tag lando <3

yukisan we better get a 3 hours long vlog to make up for all the months you haven't posted 😭

norry4 don't be shy lando, drop those pictures you've taken of y/n

↳ norrizz and zoë

norry4 I just know he's got a ton of pictures of them 😭

hamilt44n damn Logan so lucky

lando4norris once again asking to be a third in whatever relationship y/n and lando have going on

norrislandooo I've gone nearly 6 months without a vlog, this better be worth it ma'am 😭

logiebear can logan fight?

↳ y/nusername logan's a lover, not a fighter

milliexoxo this man fights me 24/7, don't know where you got that information

logansargeant that's one way to exaggerate

milliexoxo get back in your cage captain america

logiebear millie I love u 😭❤️

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Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @ireadthensuetheauthors @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseoki @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @mehrmonga @destinyg237

Desire taglist; @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader 

[querenciasturniolo]

guest ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, awkward flirting, embarrassment

summary: request

a/n: this was requested by @rainsoakedphoenix, and i had SO much fun writing it (even though it took ages) ! sorry for the mix up, i hope this works 😭💓 i wrote this while watching the new season of heartstopper, which is AMAZING by the way

(this is like 89% dialogue, which i’m sorry if it wasn’t your vision, but i tried my best 🤞🏻)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“Good morning campers, and welcome to the Cut the Camera podcast. I’m Nick Sturniolo.”

“I’m Matt Sturniolo.”

“And I’m Chris.”

Your eyes flickered between the three of them, reaching your hands up to adjust your headphones. Nick finally turned his head to you.

“We have a special guest for this episode, introduce yourself.” He said.

You looked at one of the cameras and smiled, lifting your hand to wave.

“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You said, wincing slightly. “Jesus, that was awkward, someone else talk now.” Matt pulled a face, you looking over at him and mocking him playfully.

“Like some of you know, Y/n is one of our good friends from home. She hasn’t been in much of our content because she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing, but that’s fine, we love her anyway.” Nick said. You scoffed and leaned back in the diner seat, pulling the mic with you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just an awkward piece of shit.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “S’not my fault your fans love watching me suffer.”

“Well that turned dark. Anyway, Y/n, why don’t you introduce the topic.” Chris said. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Today we’re talking about how the four of us met, and how I’ve continued to endure their torture for so long.” You paused, Matt’s jaw slack as he looked over at you. You grinned and shook your head. “No, I’m kidding. They’re pretty great, I’m glad they’ve tortured me for this long.”

Chris scoffed. “You love us and you know it.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I said, but if you want to get all mushy already, then yes, I love you guys.” You said.

Nick awed next to you, Matt leaning over and bumping your shoulder with his.

“You’ve always been the lovey-dovey one. Y/n has called me at like six o’clock on a random Tuesday before just to tell me she was thinking about me.” Nick said. You covered your face with your hands and groaned.

“God, why must you expose me? Let them think I’m dark and gloomy.” You grumbled.

Matt scoffed then, the audio coming through your headphones clear enough for you to peek an eye through your fingers. “None of them think you’re dark and gloomy, they’ve seen you in videos before, dude. Accept the fact that you’re a softy.” He teased, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

The conversation went on like this for about twenty minutes, the four of you talking and bickering back and forth. The conversation ran off the tracks quite a few times, and Matt tried reeling it back in as best as possible.

“So, back to the topic at hand—”

“Nick, what did you say?” Chris asked, completely cutting Matt off.

“I was just saying that was bullshit.” Nick said.

“Guys, what are we even—”

“How is what I just said bullshit?” Chris asked, the both of them in their own little world.

Matt sighed and looked at you, shrugging his shoulders. You turned to face him fully, resting your arm on the back of the booth. “So anyway, what’s an average day in the life of Matt Sturniolo?” You asked. Matt frowned and adjusted himself to face you completely.

“What?” He asked, pulling the mic towards him.

“What’s an average day in your life?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows.

Matt’s frown relaxed as he thought, shrugged, and finally spoke. “I’d say; wake up, shower, eat, go to meetings, come home, go to bed, repeat.” He held his hands out to count on his fingers, your eyebrows raising as you listened, no emotion on your face.

“Wow, riveting.”

Matt scoffed and shook his head, opening his hands and gesturing them towards you. “Please, tell me about your extraordinary day to day schedule, I’d love to hear it.”

“Of course you would. I happen to have a day packed full of important tasks.” You said, lifting your chin sarcastically.

“Oh, really? Name one.” He said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I work.” You started, Matt nodding and pursing his lips.

“Oh, you work, do you? And what do you do after that?” He asked, your eyebrows lifting and your jaw going slack.

“Well, if you must know, after work I go home and eat and then shower and go to bed.” You said matter of factly, Matt staring at you completely unamused.

“That has got to be the most boring play-by-play I’ve ever heard.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, and yours was better, Matt?”

“I think so. What do you do for work?” He asked, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile.

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “Retail. It’s not the most glorious job, but it gets the bills paid.”

“Yikes, customer service.” He winced, to which you shrugged your shoulders again.

“Like I said, not the most glorious job. I deal with a lot of dickheads, but the regulars are nice.” You said, grabbing your cup and taking a sip of it. You jutted your chin at him. “It’s your turn to ask a question, I don’t think they’re gonna stop any time soon.”

Matt hummed and thought for a moment. “Um, what’s your favorite color?”

“That’s really the best you could come up with, Matt?” You said, a laugh leaving your lips as he looked at you in mock offense.

“At least it’s not as mundane as ‘what do you do everyday’, Y/n. Cut me some slack, I’m trying here.” He retorted, your hands going up before you answered.

“It’s blue.”

“Lame.” He said, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Matt, that’s literally your favorite color, too.” You said, Matt scoffing.

“You don’t know me.” He mumbled, a laugh bubbling out of you as you adjusted in your seat, scooting the slightest bit towards him.

“I’ve known you my entire life, you dork. That argument is invalid.” You said.

Matt pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, really studying him for the first time in awhile. You reached forward and lightly pinched a lock in your fingers and twirled it. “Your hair is getting long.” You said. There was something in Matt’s eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but the apples of his cheeks were tinged pink.

“Yeah, I need to cut it soon.” He said, his voice quiet.

You nodded your head, letting go of the lock of hair and resting your hand back on the booth centimeters away from his. “If that’s what you want.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he lightly jabbed the tips of your fingers with his.

You paused, realizing how passive it had sounded. You immediately shook your head. “No, oh my God, nothing! It was just an observation.” You said, resting your hand on his.

“So you wouldn’t care if I shaved my head?” He asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. Somehow, your fingers ended up entwined, but both of your palms were resting on the back of the booth. It was comfortable, but new, and you didn’t know exactly how to navigate this. You shrugged your shoulders and pulled your headphones off of your head and rested them around your neck.

“I wouldn’t care, no. Just because I think your hair looks cute long, doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out if you change it.” You said honestly. Matt blinked, processing your words before he replied.

“You think my hair looks cute long?” He asked. You nodded your head, ignoring the burning in your face.

“That is what I just said, yes.” You said, trying to sound like it was no big deal

“Wow, admitting you think I’m cute on recording? That’s crazy.” You could tell he was teasing, and by the color of his cheeks, you could tell he didn’t mind.

You cocked an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as your smile grew. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been practically holding my hand for this entire conversation?”

“I haven’t?” He said, immediately pulling his hand from yours and resting it in his lap, his eyes darting downward. You smiled and shook your head, teasingly gesturing around the room.

“Matt, it’s literally on camera, from multiple angles.” You said, Matt’s eyes meeting yours. He studied your face and eventually smiled and rolled his eyes, the awkward tension he was radiating before slowly dissipating.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” He mumbled, adjusting his headphones before meeting your eyes again. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly interrupted.

“Oh my God, this is honestly disgusting.”

You whipped your head around to Nick, your eyes wide as he met you with an incredulous stare.

“You guys have been flirting like, the entire time. I’m surprised I haven’t thrown up yet.” He finished, your face on fire as your eyes flickered to Chris’ amused smile.

“Honestly, Nick and I stopped arguing like, five minutes ago. We just wanted to see how long it would take the two of you to notice.” You looked back at Matt, who was awkwardly laughing into his hands and shaking his head. “Clearly, way too fucking long. Can we get back to the topic of our joint childhoods now?” Chris finished.

You cleared your throat and nodded, adjusting yourself in the booth so you were facing forward and your shoulder was to Matt.

“Where were we again?” You asked, Nick jumping into the conversation effortlessly.

The rest of the podcast went smoothly, the four of you in almost perfect harmony for the rest of the time, the little embarrassing interruption nearly forgotten.

It was nearly forgotten until Matt’s hand rested over yours under the table and entwined with yours. You felt your face heat up and the corners of your mouth twitch, but you didn’t say anything or make anything obvious.

Matt was your best friend, and as affectionate as the two of you were, hand holding was never on the list until now—and honestly, you didn’t mind.

[memryse]

if mcyt isn’t fiction then

people who create dnd characters that are similar to them in personality are just playing themselves and should not be treated as having made a character

people who make any other dnd character should also be treated as just playing themselves since people refuse to even consider roleplay smps as fiction

any ocs someone puts a bit of themselves into? nope not fiction!

actors who play a character with the same first name as them aren’t really acting

and so on

maybe YOU can’t separate characters and real people and think that everything you see from a youtuber even when they’re explicitly acting is how they are in real life but we as a fandom just don’t have that issue lol. we’ve had disclaimers and indicators for when we’re talking about characters and not content creators for years because a certain smp contained a character having suicidal thoughts as a result of abuse at the hands of another character and we needed to make it absolutely crystal clear that we were referring to a fictional storyline and not real guy #1 being an abuser and real guy #2 being suicidal. these customs have either extended into other corners of mcyt fandom, or some developed their own independently like hispanic mcyt fans have used the word cubito to distinguish mc guy from real life guy from years, a term that other language speakers liked so much we’ve also started picking it up lol

we know exactly what we’re doing. i get that the line maybe does seem more blurred to an outsider looking in (i wouldn’t know given that both my first fandom at age 12 and current fandom at age 20 were mcrp lol) but it’s universally understood amongst us. i don’t have a problem separating hermitcraft!gem and empires s1!gem the wizard with a twin brother and empires s2!gem the princess and cc!gem the real life canadian woman.

idk it rubs me the wrong way that after years of trying to explain this we’re either met with people calling us racists because of three guys that the rest of us (all of us, really, because dream team fans do not claim to be minecraft fans. those are the type to actually write rpf and ship the real life racist guys) hate probably a lot more than any of you do, or they watch a few minutes of a less roleplay-heavy series/part and decide that the entire medium is invalid as a form of storytelling

it’s so annoying. i don’t think we need to be understood to have validity as a fandom we’ve been doing this for years already without that but it is so infuriating and sad how whenever there’s some kind of fandom poll thing one of three things happens

mcyt fans are banned outright and placed on the same level as something like hp

an mcyt fan runs their own and gets harassed for it

a non-mcyt fan allows us in until they get harassed so badly by whatever fandoms we go up against that they end up deleting our bracket

in what world is that normal behaviour. and that harassment always involves calling them all racist cishet white men such as misgendering both eret (real life bisexual genderqueer person) and their character (also queer), attempting to harass jimmy solidarity fans because jimmy makes mc videos so he must be a dream associate (the only time they interacted was in a tournament during which dream and georgenotfound shittalked jimmy’s best friends to his face), all the shit quackity has gotten for being a former friend of the dream team as if he wasn’t the #1 victim of their racism and xenophobia, the fact that any time c!technoblade is involved in a poll we have to beg other fandoms not to talk shit about him because the real life man died of cancer before dream’s grooming allegations came out, similarly when tfc was in one. and so on and so forth. all because people can’t separate roleplay and real life and think that the entire minecraft sphere revolves around dream just because their idea of mcyt does (not even his own smp named after him did that).

[starleska]

73 Yards has devastated me and i have some theories

we all agree that 73 Yards was a genre-defying, harrowing episode...and i think there's some really interesting themes and ideas going on here. tw for discussion of trauma, abuse, neglect and abandonment:

i hope we're all on the same page that the Woman seems to represent Ruby's fear of abandonment, brought to life. always present, always out of the corner of her eye, and whose primary mechanic is to drive people to scorn and leave Ruby without explanation. even people who do not know her, or people she's just met, or who are incredibly warm towards her...they speak to the Woman, and they look back as if to confirm their suspicions, and then run away, maddened and horrified. it is an unbelievable stroke of genius to make the Toymaker's breaking down of the boundaries between science and fantasy bring Ruby's abandonment into being...and for Ruby to weaponise her. but that's it - as soon as Roger ap Gwilliam was taken care of, we expected the Woman to disappear, right? but that could never happen, because Ruby's fear of abandonment will never disappear...no matter how purposeful her life is, or how much she distances herself from others. the use of the cruel, distant individuals in the Welsh pub to set up Ruby sympathetically is excellent...and then, we see people approach Ruby at all levels of emotional connection, when time and again she is considered untouchable, as if her very being is contagious. and all this time, we have the fairy circle being broken and hope vanishing...with hope being the Doctor. the one man who potentially holds the key to uncovering Ruby's deepest desires - to find out why she was abandoned, and by who. and at the end of it all...even in death, Ruby doesn't find peace. she is transported into a neverending hell-loop where she is her own abandonment. the two are inseparable, inexplicably the same, because Ruby's very existence as herself is built on the bedrock of abandonment. and i think this resonates heavily with any trauma survivor...the way that our trauma and our very real anxieties brought on by that trauma are inextricable from ourselves. i think the plot with Roger ap Gwilliam shows off a very real symptom in trauma survivors: we often daydream that our hurt and pain will be useful one day - functional. and not only does Ruby get to do that...she gets to be the quiet, unsung saviour of the whole world, protecting us from a world-ending terror in spite of the abuse and neglect she's faced. she endures menial work and constant fear, while only confiding quietly in one other person...Marti, who i believe is coded as another trauma survivor due to her response to Roger (who she describes as a monster). if Ruby can't receive love and affection from anyone else, at least she can feel satisfied that she served her purpose. on a practical level, the presence of Mrs Flood and Susan Twist in this episode AGAIN gives me pause. my theory that someone here is another of the Toymaker's Legions, and is the embodiment of Story, has only deepened. the fact that we had a cold open without the title sequence, we met Susan Twist very quickly, we seem to have flipped genres for the show and Ruby was able to embark on a self-destructive wish-fulfilment saviour fantasy in real life...it all indicates to me that the boundaries between reality and fiction are fully collapsing. when Kate says things are trending towards the supernatural lately, i think we've only hit the tip of the iceberg. on a broader level: my God Russell T Davies, what a brilliant script!!! this is one of my favourite ever episodes of Doctor Who, and is absolutely my highlight for the season. huge kudos to Millie Gibson for giving such a killer performance...i am now terribly endeared to, and protective, of Ruby, and hope against hope she gets the happy ending she so deserves 💖

[kalki-tarot]

WHICH BOLLYWOOD FILM CHARACTER IS YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE ?

Characters can be female/male, it's not gender specific, just focus on their personality.

Take a deep breathe and focus on your third eye chakra ✨️ pick a picture that calls you out.

1 - 2 - 3

4 - 5 - 6

Pile 01 🪞

. . Aditya from Jab we Met💌

Omg! The biggest Green Flag ever !

Your future spouse's personality is just like him. Romantic and sweet. He's always there for you, even in your bad times. You can always rely on him. He's a great friend too, listening to your likes and dislikes. You like his sense of humor the most haha.

Like every other human being, he has his own flaws too. But he works on them and becomes a better man for his highest good.

Message is that often in life when you hit rock bottom, there is only one way to go and that is UP. And just like Geet and Aditya, some trains are supposed to be missed, so that you hop into one that takes you to a better, happier and healthier destination.

Pile 02 🪔

. . Qais Bhatt from Laila Majnu 💌

The way he looks at laila is amazing and heart throbbing. His love for laila is pure and serene. He is madly in love with her. Totally out of control but in a healthy way.

You both may be star-crossed lovers. They were Destined to love each other. Like the dailouge in the movie says —

" Our story has been destined. And neither the world nor the people can change it. "

There was something unique between you guys. You may know him/her since childhood or even a past life was shared by you together. You are twinflames or even soulmates. I can also see people were against you both due to many differences like religion or ethnicity, but your love never dies despite the circumstances.

Pile 03 🪞

. . Guru from Ek Villian 💌

Guru is a typical bad boy from fictional stories. He's life is totally is chaos. Your fs would be like him personality wise, except the illegal or evil things portrayed by the character.

Your fs is someone who's sad and lacks purpose in life currently. But like in the movie, when guru meets Aisha, his life changes. And he tries to become a better person and lead a better life. It's like moving from the bad and fearful times to the good ones.

He would gain a purpose, and that is you. He'd love you but he won't say that quite often, his eyes would tell. The warmth and soft feeling when he looks into your eyes will melt you right away.

Pile 04 🪔

. . Dr. Jehangir from Dear Zindagi 💌

Even though Dr. Jehangir was not an active love interest of Alia's character in the film, your fs would have the friendly and guide-like personality aspects of Dr. Jehangir in the movie.

Your fs would be a great listener. They may even belong the the medical field somehow. They'll drag you out of your worst situations in life. You two would share a comfortable, open and cozy bond together. Whenever you need some advice, they'll always be there for you.

I'm also getting that your fs can be your doctor or counselor at first. Or maybe just a great listener and giving you good advice.

Pile 05 🪞

. . Inder from Sanam Teri Kasam 💌

He literally holds Saru on her deathbed till she takes her last breathe 😭 What a wonderful character he is!

He's literally the most selfless and giving person to the love of his life. Your fs would be like him, pile 5, you're so lucky ♡ Your fs may have some legal issues going on or they may be a lawyer, as the justice card came up.

What I'm seeing is, like saru in the movie, you too are often betrayed or belittled by your own loved ones. You are often deceived by others and your fs does not like it at all. They just want your happiness. Even after you die, (may god not let it be) they'll still love you. They will give you whatever they have, you just name it. Wow. I'm in love with this reading ;_; ♡

Pile 06 🪔

. . Jordan from Rockstar 💌

Your fs is like Jordan from Rockstar. This movie is my personal favourite. Your fs is a heartbroken person, but when you arrive their life gets filled with happiness but when you leave their life burns into ashes. You may be twinflames.

There is something which holds you back from accepting this love between you both. You need to work on that fear.

I see your fs is famous, Despite being famous their heart yearns for love. There is still a void in their hearts Despite having money, power and wealth. Maybe they are waiting for you.

They are definitely an introvert and kind of famous online. Their heart burns with passion, very passionate and romantic individual. They may play an instrument or even sing. People like their rough and passionate personality.

Please like and rb if resonates !

I worked hard while making this so please show some love ❤️

[direquail]

You know the point of "protecting the children" dogwhistles, right? It's a reference to the idea that all queer people are child abusers. Super common belief among homophobes and transphobes, including (sometimes especially) gay ones.

It's also not just "a dogwhistle". When pressed to explain what exactly they want to protect children from, it's a ready-made emotional appeal to something that has broad social support. Most people, even if they don't like being around kids, are also not pro-child abuse. That's why conservatives go out of their way to invent (even if it's completely fictional) "reasons" why acceptance of gay and trans people amounts to child abuse. It helps them create an emotional connection with their target audience, and can be leveraged into logically ridiculous arguments like "well, if you don't agree with my platform, you must be pro child abuse, because I'm on the side of The Children".

"Protecting the children" is also super appealing to parents in particular, not because all parents are secretly authoritarians, but because it's super common to have a child and realize "Oh shit, I brought this person who can't defend themselves into the world and the world kind of sucks", and to feel horribly, horribly inadequate in the face of that.

I get very tired of people who mock, scorn, and ridicule people for falling for these rhetorical traps, or being snared by something that seems common-sense but disguises something ugly underneath. They are traps. That is what they're meant to be. That is why there are gay people who fall for anti-queer rhetoric, and get pulled into exclusionist or violently reactionary circles. We all have things we are vulnerable to, whether that is a history of being abused or a deep fear that we cannot protect our own children, who we brought into the world and are responsible for the protection of. And we gain nothing by mocking the latter.

I'm sure it makes some people feel great to say "well if you were really who you claim to be, you wouldn't fall for this shit", but frankly, that's a stupid-ass take. It misses entirely that these messages are carefully crafted by the people who hate us! They workshop these statements! They spend months or years trying to find the right message and when they find it they use the hell out of it, because it works. Because they are listening to the public conversations people are having online, and it doesn't take any level of basic agreement to be capable of regurgitating the party line word-for-word.

I am so sick of people who look at a deeply-embedded struggle over social and political ideals and think that this fight won't demand our whole brains and hearts and souls and yeah, we might fuck up because we care deeply and sometimes, people with bad intentions prey on that. On our grief and our fear and our rage.

And I'm frankly a lot more nervous around people who refuse to be aware of that, especially when they loudly mock the people who are willing to acknowledge their own fallibility and explore how they got ensnared in something. People are not moral machines, they are people.

[bowtiepastabitch]

Heaven's Not Homophobic in Good Omens, and Why That's Important

I need to preface this with, I am not trying to start a fight or argument and won't tolerate any homophobic or bad faith arguments in response to this. Cool? Cool.

This is in large part inspired by this ask from Neil's blog, which sparked some discourse that I don't want to get involved in but that brought up some analytic questions for me.

He goes on to reblog a question asking about Uriel's taunt specifically, clarifying that "boyfriend in the dark glasses" can just as easily be read/translated from angelic as girlfriend or bosom buddy. The idea is that an angel and a demon "fraternizing" is seriously looked down upon, not that heaven is homophobic. And that's super important.

We see homophobia in both the book and show, of course. Aziraphale is very queer-coded, intentionally and explicitly so, and we see the reaction of other humans to that several times. Sergeant Shadwell, for example, and the kid in the book that calls him the f-slur when he's doing magic at Warlock's birthday party. These are, however, individual human reactions to his coding as a gay man.

I am, personally, not a fan of heaven redemption theories for the show; no hate for people who want that it's just not something I'm interested in. I don't believe that heaven is good with bad leadership, or that God Herself remains as a paragon of virtue. To me, that's not in line with the themes and messages of the show. It's important, however, that heaven doesn't reflect human vices. Heaven can be nasty and selfish and apathetic in its own right without ableism, homophobia, transphobia, or racism. This matters for two reasons.

Firstly, we don't need the -isms and -phobias to be evil or at least ethically impure. In a world where we spend so much time fighting against prejudice and bigotry, our impulse is to see that reflected in characters whose motivations we distrust or who we're intended to dislike. While it's true that that's often the big bad evil in our daily lives, it can really cheapen the malice in fictional evil from a storytelling standpoint. A villain motivated by racism or as an allegory for homophobia can be incredibly compelling, but not every bad guy can be the physical representation of an -ism. Art reflects the reality in which it's crafted, but the complexity of human nature and the evil it's capable of can't be simplified to a dni list.

Secondly, and I think more importantly, is that for Good Omens specifically, this places the responsibility for homophobia on humanity. If you're in this fandom, there's like a 98% chance you've been hurt by religion in some way. For a lot of us, that includes religious homophobia and hate, so it makes sense to want to project that onto the 'religious' structure of Good Omens. It's a story that is, in many ways, about religious trauma and abuse. However, if heaven itself held homophobic values, it would canonize in-universe the idea that heaven and religion itself are responsible for all humanity's -isms and -phobias and absolve humans of any responsibility. Much like Crowley emphasizes repeatedly that the wicked cruelty he takes responsibility for is entirely human-made, we have to accept that heaven can't take the blame for this. To make heaven, the religious authority, homophobic would simply justify religious bigotry from humans. By taking the blame for religious extremism and hatred away from heaven and the religious structure, Good Omens makes it clear that the nastiness of humanity is uniquely and specially human and forces the individual to take responsibility rather than the system. Hell isn't responsible for the Spanish Inquisition, which by the way was religiously motivated if you didn't know, and heaven isn't responsible for Ronald Reagan.

This idea is perhaps more strongly and explicitly expressed in the Good Omens novel, in the scene where Aziraphale briefly possesses a televangelist on live TV. It's comedic, yes, but also serves to demonstrate that human concepts of the apocalypse and religious fervor are deeply incorrect (in gomens universe canon) and condemn exploitation of faith practices. Pratchett and Gaiman weave a great deal of complexity into the way religion and religious values are portrayed in the book, especially in the emphasis on heaven and hell being essentially the same. They're interested in the concept of what it means to be uniquely and unabashedly human, the good and the bad, and part of that is forcing each individual person to bear the brunt of responsibility for their own actions rather than passing it off onto a greater religious authority.

Additionally, from a fan perspective, there's something refreshing about a very queer story where homophobia isn't the primary (or even a side) conflict. The primary narrative of Good Omens isn't that these two man-shaped-beings are gay, it's that they're an angel and a demon. The tension in their romantic arc arises entirely from the larger conflict of heaven and hell, and things like gender and sexuality don't really matter at all. Yes, homophobia and transphobia are very real, present issues in our everyday lives, but they don't have to be central to every story we tell. There's something really soothing about Crowley and Aziraphale being so queer-coded and so clearly enamored with each other without constantly being bombarded with homophobia and hate. It's incredible to see a disabled angel whose use of a mobility aid makes no difference in their role and to see angels and demons using they/them pronouns without being questioned or misgendered. It's all accepted and normalized, and that's the kind of representation that we as queer people deserve.

[multiwreckedmess]

Two Princes

Pairing: Prince!Hyunjin x fem!servant!Reader x Prince!Felix Genre: Royalty AU Smut WC: 5.5k Summary: A kingdom unlucky in queens but lucky in princes, you live a pleasant life inside the castle walls. Given to the crown by your parents for training it was only a matter of time until you ran into the two golden Princes Hyunjin and Felix.  TW/CW: Power imbalance. SoftDom!Hyunjin, SoftDom!Felix, unprotected penetration, non-explicit consent, reader is called “darling” “miss”, hyunlix is called “sir”, slight breeding kink, double penetration, Felix and Hyunjin aren’t related but are close like brothers so if that gives you the ick heads up ig, basically 5.5k of pwop.

As usual, this is fiction not a resource manual for how to do literally anything in life. This does not represent ANYONE real or fictional. also not proofread sorry...

You prayed no one would notice the waves forming in the dark wine as your hands shook. Only a month into your service at the castle and you’d made it to the throne room. The matron had looked at you proudly for once that morning, announcing that you would take up the place usually kept by her as a capstone to your training. Muscles tense and locked you acutely wanted to appear composed and graceful, as though you’d done the job for decades. Prove to them that you were born to serve the throne.

Or in this case, the thrones of Princes Hyunjin and Felix.

Two striking young men, crowned with golden locks and reputations to match. Truly the kingdom was blessed despite the tragedy that had led to the familial merger. Not directly related by blood the two boys had still had become fast friends and confidants to each other as the King had aimed for.

“You will hardly see one without the other so I suggest you be ready to see double.” Your matron gently chided, stuffing a second handkerchief into your apron. “Have two of everything! We’d hate to think the Princes might ever want for more.”

You nodded fiercely. Amongst the many new rules this one was easy to remember. Two princes. Each gets his own copy when possible.

Pouring from the decanter into Hyunjin’s cup was the closest you’d ever been to either prince. Sharp jawline, plush lips, seemingly shaped by the goddess herself. Almost an artifact of another world, dangerous to gaze at for too long yet irresistible.

“The glass dear, it’s close,” his velvet voice jolts you from your thoughts, eyes flicking down to the nearly overflowing glass.

Hastily you right the decanter, a million apologies bumbling and stumbling and tripping over each other in your mouth as you shrink looking towards the ground.

Hyunjin’s fingers wrap themselves gracefully under your jaw, righting your posture with a practiced ease. “Now, now, no need for all of that. While this is simply too much for me to drink, I can easily share some with my brother, isn’t that right Felix?” Your eyes flick to the other prince, whose head turns slightly surprised to hear his name.  “Please Felix if I may,” Hyunjin gestures with his cup, dark red liquid wobbling precariously near the rim.

Felix’s eyes narrow, flitting from you to the glass to Hyunjin before extending it to his brother with a small smirk. “Of course. No need for our pretty little attendant to worry. We’re quite good at sharing when needed.”

Carefully steadying the younger’s outstretched wine glass, Hyunjin slowly pours from his cup to Felix’s. There is something disconcerting in the way Felix’s eyes rake over you. It makes your stomach tense and lungs freeze in place. No one in the room says a word as Hyunjin tilts his glass upright, forefinger collecting a stray bead of wine as it slips down the edge of the glass. Time seems to freeze as your eyes meet his tongue slowly licks the droplet from his finger, barely even meeting the skin. You don’t even realize how wide your eyes are, how you’ve sealed you lips in a thin line of shock.

“See, we can share quite well when called upon.” Hyunjin giggles.

An advisor, sat on a luxurious leather wingback chair, clears his throat anxiously. “Let’s not play with our food, boys. As you can see from the agenda there are several economic initiatives that need attending to. Once we are done you are free to spend your time however you wish, but for now you have ceded this time to us.”

The two princes straighten in their thrones and nod, dismissing you back to the small stool and table sat in the corner for you. Briefly your knees knock together, unsure of what the concept of “walking” even was. Manuel mode enabled, you lift your unwilling legs and march at what you think is the speed you normally walk, hoping against hope you haven’t drawn excessive attention to yourself.

Fear flutters in your chest as you watch the room, advisors passionately providing their arguments to the princes, both sat and attentive to each as they spoke. This must be what power is, wordlessly commanding respect but lending that same floor to others when asked. Quiet, unassuming, but simmering below the surface.

You had a similar encounter with the princes very early on in your days as you’d scurried along one of the many arcades on the perimeter of the inner ward. Late for your etiquette lesson, already a demerit, you spotted the pair directly in your path. Both kitted out with their tight white fencers dress, headed to the field for a friendly spar. Felix gently swatting at Hyunjins thighs with the practice foil, Hyunjin jumped, laughing. Bubbling with affection towards each other you wanted to just sit there and watch them, living as a fly or a spider or some other unsightly insect just to see their smiles.

And that’s when you realized you’d stopped fully and were staring in an unbecoming manner.

And they’d noticed.

And they were staring back.

The force of the realization threw you behind the nearest piller, back pressed to the cool stone, waiting to hear their footsteps. Heart thudding wildly you know you shouldn’t hide from them, it isn’t right to hide from them, you are there to serve them not spy on them. Their footsteps fade and disappear as you melt against the column. Maybe you’d hallucinated their line of sight, maybe someone else was behind you.

A harsh clang of metal hitting your column jolts you, sending you yelping and jumping away.

The boys burst into laughter, one climbing in pitch the other diving deep into his register. Hyunjin winks as you turn and run away, feet pounding into the ground, chest heaving.

“Sorry didn’t see you there!” He calls after you jovially. Not that it mattered whether or not it was on purpose.

Today you were finding out that the throne room assignment was mostly about waiting. No matter how scant the crowd was, you had to wait until the princes left to clear the drinks, one of many rules you memorized and repeated as you sat idle, waiting to be needed. At least with the great hall no matter how hectic the activity seemed to have a set pattern which you had grown used to and memorized like a court dance. Mind wandering you watch the advisors drift off into adjoining halls and rooms, half drunk glasses of mead and wine alike littering the table as evidence of their having attended.

And suddenly the princes’ full attention was on you. The same calm gaze with which they’d heard out the court they fixed on you, like a spotlight had decided to shine directly down on you. It would be out of turn to speak but it was increasingly warm under their watchful eyes. Subconsciously your fingers worked over the skirt of your apron, nervously smoothing over and picking the pills.

“Miss, are we truly that scary?” Felix smiles at you. “Please. Come sit, we don’t bite!” He’s warm like sunshine with every word he speaks to you.

Perhaps before now you’d never truly appreciated the concept of ‘scurrying’ as you shuffled speedily to kneel between the twin thrones, head bowed. Skirts billowing out around you like a flower you tuck your hands in front of you, perfectly as taught. You can hear the princes stifle a laugh, bodies shifting towards each other in the top of your peripheral vision.

“We did mean sit when we said sit. You don’t have to kneel so formally.”

“I’m sorry your royal highnesses. This is what my training instructed me to do. How would you prefer me, sirs?” You dare not raise your gaze for fear of losing your mind.

Felix smirks and licks his lips, “well if you could look at us that would be a start.”

With a gulp you raise your chin, eyes still tracing the air around their bodies rather than daring to look directly at them.

“She’s so cute, Felix! So proper. Our matron dearest really went too far with her I think.” Hyunjin nearly brags to Felix as though you aren’t directly in front of them.

“Really such a dear thing. All nervous over us like this.”

Hyunjin kneels slightly beside you, close like you had been to pour his wine. “As beautiful as you look on your knees I’d love you to take a seat for us. Can you do that? You can choose anywhere you like, even our laps if they look comfortable. I assure you no better seat in the entire palace.” His tone caresses your nerves, codling you. Almost easing you into standing before them, still trembling. As you turn to pick a chair his voice calls again. “Oh before you sit, please, remove that apron for us, darling.”

Quick to respond to his request you fumble with the pins holding the top half of the apron, hands shaking like leafs.

It’s Felix’s turn to step forward. Taking a quick stride to position himself behind you he easily plucks the knot loose, arms wrapping around your waist to catch the sheath of fabric over his arm. His chin bumps your shoulder, face close to yours in a way you never dared think about. Ears flashing hotly you stumble back on him with a squeak.

“Oh!” Felix exclaims, righting you in his grasp. “I think our darling’s corset is restricting her too much. She nearly fainted right here!”

Mouth opened wide in dismay. You want to fight him on his assumption. Your bindings were fine, it was he that was the problem. But you can’t bring yourself to say it was him. Training taking over, what he said must’ve been right. The girls always did have a habit of lacing too tightly in the morning when their stomachs were empty from hours sleeping.

“Felix, if you think that’s the problem I give you full permission to remove the offending clothing. We can’t have anyone passing out in our care.”

“Sirs! No, I’m fine really, that’s so much-” your panicked voice reaches a high tremor. The reality of the request forcing your hand. You’d be basically nude in the throne room, thin chamise only blurring what the imagination could easily place beneath the formless white fabric.

“What is your primary duty?” Hyunjin barks out suddenly, stilling you.

“To serve the throne, sir.”

“And if you faint? How will that be in service to us?”

“It will not be in service.”

His eyes sparkled, “then by that logic, if removing your bodice serves the throne…?”

“The bodice should be…removed.” You reply shyly, ducking your head to hide your face.

Felix’s small fingers neatly unhook your outer layer, slipping the sleeves off your shoulders and letting the durable slab of roughly woven cotton slide to the floor. Almost equally as swiftly he pops the pins holding your skirts and petticoat tightly around the corset, pooling at your feet, leaving only the offending clothing squeezing your ribs, your pantalettes, and fine linen chemise.

You can’t hide the lewd moan that escapes your lips as Felix presses open the metal release hooks at your front, pinched flesh screaming in delight at the sudden freedom.

“...and that’s why we make the decisions for the kingdom. We know better than our own subjects.” Felix purrs in your ear.

Goosebumps rise on the backs of your arms as you close them across your chest in a lame attempt to keep some modesty. Their consistent gaze heats your insides to jelly. You wish that you owned anything prettier than this to present yourself in. Something silk like the noble ladies or at least lace embroidered like the more well off ilk.

“Felix, are you frightening our darling?”

“Darling, am I scary? Do I scare you? You can be honest with us.”

Panic clenches your abdomen. “No!” You blurt. “You don’t-I’m not scared.” As per your training, you must stay resolute. The answer seems to please them, sharing a small smile and glance at each other.

Hyunjin’s tone remains soft, floating like a melody. “You must know, as you’ve been trained to be so exemplary, that it is my birthday soon. A very special day for all the kingdom and of course for myself. Now, I hadn’t thought of what I might ask for…” he trails off. “Come closer, girl.”

Dutifully you step almost toe to toe with him, Felix returning to his seat to observe. Both wearing the smiles of cats that caught the mouse.

“What do you remember about your prince’s birthdays?”

Straightening up a little you recite, “as we are blessed with two beautiful princes we celebrate each twice. Although they were born separately they are celebrated jointly as the rising of the spring and the beginning of the fall.”

Hyunjin claps his hands, “and! What of our presents?”

“Two of a kind as with all things that can be made twice.”

“Oh she is perfect! Isn’t she, Felix?” Hyunjins hand reaches out to play with the hem of your chamise, pinching and bunching the fabric in his fingers. His eyes flit suddenly up from the hem to you, “I want you for my birthday.”

You can’t control your facial expression, eyes widening and jaw going slack. Breath growing fast and shallow your hand grasps the fabric covering your chest. “Sir, I’m not sure what you mean. I’m already yours as I have been taught and trained to be, I belong to the crown, the throne-”

Of course you knew what he meant. There had been other boys who’d shown interest. Other boys you were interested in. The concept was not new to you. Something about him though, made it unbelievable that he could mean what you thought.

“Your duty is to the crown and the throne. I don’t want that. I want you, I want your body, and I want your affection.” He drew the hem to his lips, kissing the garment like a lord might kiss a ladies hand. “Now hike up your gown and let me have my present.”

Fluttering stomach, fingers trembling, you slowly tug the fabric into your fists, exposing the white legs of your pantalettes, conjoined at the top by a drawn string threaded through both halves. You’ve never seen hyunjin like this, slouched in his throne, legs spread wide. He watches you, palming himself over his breeches.

“Hyunjin, she’s shivering already!” Felix raises his eyebrow. “Are you okay darling? Tell your princes what you need.”

“I’m-I don’t-I’m not sure-” you stutter out, keenly aware of the spotlight on you.

“Please help our darling out, should you wish. She’s your present too after all,” Hyunjin addresses Felix, eyes still fixated on you. They don’t move as you feel Felix’s presence hovering behind you, his hands slowly smoothing your gathered bunches of fabric into one knot held tightly in his fist to your side. Your heart thuds in your chest and echos between your thighs. Lust clouds your judgment like the hazy heat that rolls off of his body. His unoccupied hand slips into the slit in your pantalettes, tracing your folds with the pads of his fingers.

Gasp caught in your throat your veins feel like they’ve been lit on fire.

“Our darling is so responsive, Hyune. You’re going to love her. Cunt’s already dripping.”

“Show me.” Hyunjin demands. Felix tugs on the drawstring, pantalettes swiftly tumbling to the ground.

“Put your knees on the arms of his throne, love. I’ll hold you close still, don’t worry,” Felix whispers assurances in your ear as you shakily spread your legs wide to match the width of the sturdy, thick armrests. Stepping between Hyunjin’s legs to join you, he encourages you to lean back into his chest, angling your pelvis to present lewdly forward, hands grappling backwards to your own ankles.

Hyunjin’s eye’s rake over every inch of exposed flesh, joined by eager fingertips. He’s careful not to venture too close to your sex, opting to leave anticipatory prickles in his lazy path up and down your thighs. Your hips rise to meet him each time, assuming that he had to have grown impatient by then. No man you’d ever met was patient for very long for any reason, so why should a prince be any different? Still as much as your body seemed to long for his touch to advance he resisted, smiling as you exhaled with a disappointed “hmph.”

“Really doesn’t take too much, does it darling? Just the proper, or improper, touch.” Hyunjin states, finally slipping a finger between your lips, gliding it back and forth, just teasing your entrance.

You sink into the motion with a gentle “oh” hardly noticing as Felix slips his unoccupied hand beneath your chamise, soft palm kneading your bosom in handfuls. “Just relax,” he continues to whisper, silky tone weaving through your cotton-y brain. “Let us take care of you. You’re capable of so much pleasure, if you just let us rule you. You can do that, right darling? You’re such a good little servant. So perfectly trained. You know how to be a good girl and take orders. It’s your duty after all, to serve us.”  The tapestry he knits with his words is an enticing one, laced with golden promises.

Your thighs threaten to collapse inwards with each nudge of your clit. Each denial becomes almost painful, your body clenching inwards to try to force yourself over the edge. Eyelids fluttering over the whites of your rolled-back eyes you beg under your breath, beg for release, beg for something to clench down on.

“Louder. Let your Prince hear what you need,” Felix hisses.

“Please, sir, it hurts. I need - so badly. I need to - I might die. I need you-”

“What do you need from me?”

“I need you inside-” your voice breaks, the words too dirty to dare utter in front of them. “Sir, I need you inside me.”

“Be more specific.”

“Fingers!” You gasp and groan as Felix pinches your pebbled nipple. “Please use them in me, sir! Please! Please.” You chant as he continues to rub his thumb back and forth over the tingling area. Every touch feels like looking over the edge of the castle wall to the turf below, churning the pit of your stomach.

Hyunjin tuts, leaning upwards, face inches from your mound. Breath held as his finger passes again over your hole, you whimper. Tongue pointed he kitten licks your swollen button before sealing his mouth over your mound. Licking and sucking at you, the persistent attention from his swirling muscle has your eyelids fluttering and hips grinding down on him, juices dripping down his chin. Your cunt pulls his finger in with each flutter of its walls, happy to have even this much to clench down on.

The arousal pooling in your gut, your body arches up, head pressing into Felix even harder and you flood the man below with your essence. Each pulse of your cunt forces a twitch from your flexed muscles as he releases you, tongue flat to eagerly lap at your core.

Hyunjin looks pleased as he pants, withdrawing from your netherregion, lips pink and plush from their hard work. “This is why we royalty come up with the solutions.”

“Yes! My Princes know how to take care of me. Thank you sir. Thank you for your care.” You cry and shake, giving your full weight plus some to Felix as you convulse with aftershocks.

Hyunjin motions for Felix to lift you gently off the armrests, letting you curl and rest at his feet. “Set your head here, darling, let me show you how good you taste,” he taps his knee, leaning forward to kiss you as you come near, lips still shining with your release. The taste is faint, his own scent almost overwhelming your senses, but not unpleasant. Gently his tongue presses at your lips, seeking permission. Swept into the moment you grant it easily, letting him explore your mouth, licking into the warmth just as he had your cunt.

As your kiss becomes more desperate, Hyunjin pulls you over him, your torso stretched over his thighs, ass stuck out into the room. You yelp into his mouth as another wriggling tongue swipes over your slit.

“She’s so sweet, no wonder you took your time with her,” Felix murmurs, drifting off as he indulges in another swipe.

“Felix,” Hyunjin breaks from you, strand of spit spanning the distance from your already fucked-out face. “I think she’s ready enough, we don’t want to break our present quite yet.” His face doubles and swims in front of you as your eyes fight to focus. Hyunjin chuckles affectionately as you stare back at him dumbly. “Darling, he’s going to fuck you now. You might want to brace yourself.” Gently he cups your head and lays your cheek to his thigh, mouth watering bulge twitching and straining against his breeches right in front of you. Forgetting yourself for a moment, you trace the print in the fabric with your forefinger. “So cute,” he coos, gently removing your hand, “but I didn’t say you could do that.”

“‘M sorry sir. I-” your thought is interrupted by the blunt tip of Felix’s cock sliding between your folds. Hand gripping Hyunjins thigh in anticipation, you wiggle your hips as Hyunjin pushes your hair away from your face to get an unobstructed view.

“Go ahead Felix, take her.”

Palm flat on your lower back he pushes into you to the hilt in one smooth motion. Your facial expressions and groans do not disappoint, eyes rolling back to the whites. The stretch is more pressure than pain, your slick easing him in with the prep work Hyunjin did to open you up.

“She’s a tight little thing,” Felix pulls back leaving only the flared tip inside of you, reveling in the way your lips hug around him as he fills you. “Every time I try to pull out she just pulls me right back in.”

Popping the front of his breeches free, Hyunjins cock springs out in front of you. It’s paradoxically thick in comparison to him curving up to his waistband, tip already glossy with smeared precum. “Give it a little taste, darling,” he says, parting your lips with his thumb, encouraging your jaw to open even further, pad petting your tongue. Tapping the head against your flattened tongue he seems pleased with the ease of your obedience. He tastes slightly salty and musky as you twirl your tongue around him. “Good girl, go ahead and wrap that little pout around me. Just like a sweet, just like that,” he holds your head steady to his thigh as he shallowly fucks into your mouth. He can’t get much depth at this angle but the vibrations from your moans and blissed out expression make up for it. Both men take up the responsibility of ragdolling you between them, Felix pulling by your hips as Hyunjin thrusts forward into your mouth, one in, one out.

Each prince sounds unique in his pleasure. Hyunjin caught in whines and hisses in tenor while Felix groans and grunts in his low baritone. Their styles of loving are also a study in contrast, Felix’s hands roaming everywhere, squeezing and squishing and massaging. Like a sculptor working putty into a masterwork. Hyunjin prefers pointed attacks and intense stares. Busy wandering the scene with his eyes. Watching the light play over your fingers as they twitch and tremor with each thrust. The shadow of the hollow of your cheek as his cock pulls from your lips. Even your eyelashes, clumped with aborted tears, sticking to your cheek for a millisecond with every flutter.

“‘M close.” Felix warns, pulling from you with a pop.

“No,” you whine and wiggle, searching after him desperately. Both men laugh.

“Turning our cute shy thing into a cockwhore in one round, I’ve got to say I’m proud.” Hyunjin also pulls from you, leaving you unoccupied for the first time in the last twenty minutes.

Unsure of what to do with yourself you nuzzle his thigh wordlessly. Sweat and juices trailing down your inner thighs your stomach hungers for more. Frustration boiling and bubbling in your chest you wiggle your hips again in hops it entices Felix back.

“You’re just so helpless without us aren’t you?” Hyunjin’s voice returns to its calm caressing tone. “Don’t worry darling, you’ll be filled soon. Do you want to come sit on me now? Would that feel good?”

You scramble into the throne, straddling the prince like an overeager mutt totally unaware that it is no longer a puppy. Even panting with your tongue out, nearly begging as your slit slides along his strained member.

“Felix, did you not fuck her hard enough? She’s practically wetting the seat with how needy she is. Humping me like a bunny in heat. Gotta make her cum harder next time so she’s nice and pliant.”

“Jeeze, you’re the one who said not to break your new toy,” Felix’s voice echos from the other end of the room. “Should be thanking me for having her so wound up.”

You whine as you rub yourself on him. Cunt aching to be filled again, your fingers feel itchy as you deny yourself the pleasure of taking him of your own accord.

“Normally I’d punish you for trying to get yourself off without my permission but,” Hyunjin shoots a glance over your shoulder. “There was some familial miscommunication which you should not pay for.” He lifts your hips off him, dick sufficiently lubricated with a mixture of spit and precum, and fits himself just inside your entrance. “Now take me nice and slow, I want to see each inch go in easy, okay?” His eyes search for your understanding. “And if you try anything funny, I’ll make sure you’re fucked so hard that you’ll be on bedrest for the next three days.” A sudden hit of venom laces his words, driving his point home.

Thighs burning you sink slowly onto him, careful not to let gravity or exhaustion accelerate your descent. The effort has you shaking, palms pressed to the armrests with the tips of your fingers going white. He whispers small praises as he watches himself fill you. How proud he is, how well you are doing, how pretty your pussy looks taking him in, what a good cocksleeve you are. Finally, finally he leans up and pulls you to his chest, groaning as he forces the last few centimeters of himself inside.

“How do you feel darling?”

“Full, sir,” you mumble, happy to pour your weight into his arms. “Good and full.” Hands on your hips he rolls you back and forth on him, coaxing another wet release from you. It has you floating, you want to be good for him. You need to be good for him. It’s only right to worship a future king as you would a god.

Hyunjin’s hands spreading your cheeks, another warm intrusion works its way against you, slick release and additional lubrication coating your holes. A small digit swirls around the second, virgin hole, briefly pressing as a test. You jolt, pussy clamping down around Hyunjin, heartbeat climbing rapidly. “Relax, just trust us, we know best, right? Didn’t it feel so good before when Felix got you all nice and ready. He’ll be just as gentle. It’s his nature after all. Just put your head on my shoulder like a good girl and relax.”

Following his instructions you curl onto his shoulder, hands gripping his biceps. As the intrusion works its way into you, pulling back and inching forward with each thrust, you try to focus on him. His smell, his aura, his nerves of steel. His murmurs vibrate against your ear, tickling pleasantly. A second digit is added as you whimper and bury your face in his neck.

“No no, darling. I need to see your face at least a little,” Hyunjin nudges you from the warm juncture with his chin. “Especially for this next part.” He winks at Felix.

Felix who has been grunting lowly under his breath with each effort he makes to stretch you just enough. He presses the head of his cock to your twitching entrance pushing himself until just the head squeezes past the tight ring. Your face screws up cutely with the initial pain, lip quivering. Felix tries to make it more comfortable, slowly massaging your lower back as he rocks himself with your whimpers.

The pain has your head spinning while the overwhelming fullness numbs it. From clamping down around nothing to being stretched to the point where clenching would lead to misery you’ve run the gambit. As he settles a peaceful expression covers your face. Eyelids closed, brows unknit, lips just barely parted as your jaw hangs loosely.

You gurgle happily. “Is this what being with a Prince is like?”

“No darling, this is what being with a god is like.”

“I should worship you.”

“You should. But today, for being so especially precious, we will spoil you.”

Felix leans over, joining your and Hyunjins heads. “Let us treat you.” Both men start to rock opposite each other again. Their cocks are only separated by a thin wall. There isn’t much else you can do but take it, as the coo and caress and bounce you back and forth. Your body is frozen as you chase another orgasm, lower belly and tops of your thighs tensing and shaking as more arousal splashes from you and coats their skin. Everything they do to you is gentle followed by a small reminder of their ownership. A nuzzle followed by a harsh bruising suck of your skin. A loving hand massaging your ass cheek before smacking it. Somewhere between heaven and earth your mind floats in paradise.

“I can’t take any more. I really can’t. I can’t sirs.” Your eyelids are so heavy you think you might pass out. It wouldn’t be the worst thing either, to be taken into the blessed dark as your Princes have their way.

“You can, I know you can, you’re such a good girl. One more for us.” Felix mumbles in his deep bass, pressing kisses to your shoulder and neck. “Hold her for me,” he groans airily. “I’m close,”

Hyunjin’s hands move to the tops of your thighs, locking you down to his lap. “Might want to hold onto something, darling,” he gestures to the armrests as Felix leans back from you. That was all the warning you received, Felix’s hips suddenly snapping into you with a brutal pace. Your body fights itself, not sure if it should contract inwards or try to expand outwards, leaving you jittering between white knuckles and splayed palms. Words you’d only heard the stablehands shout as they shoveled flew from your mouth, much to the delight of the men inside of you.

“Keep going ‘lixie, she’s fucked. Nothing inside that pretty little head.”

Felix’s grunts turn into small high pitched whines. His sweat drips from his forehead as he wraps himself around you, head buried in the crook of your neck. Every inch of your body spasms, thighs, ass, cunt, arms, every muscle tensing and pulsing all at once, white hot. He spills into you panting and swearing.

“Better be able to hold her for me now, or are you too weak hm?” Hyunjin taunts, letting go of your thighs.

“I can-” Felix breathlessly pulls you tighter into his arms, arms crossing your chest to brace you against his chest.

Hyunjin fucks you with equal ferocity, bouncing your body up against Felix like you were made of rubber and not flesh and bone. Felix pulls your hair back, strands sticking to the drool and tears escaping from you.

“I think you broke her, Hyune.”

You gurgle dumbly, eyes blurred and mouth open.

Hyunjin doesn’t bother talking, teeth gritted, mesmerized by the scene in front of him. Looking to the heavens, face relaxed as though you could see your soul floating inches above you, a perfect subject, a perfect vessel. Your walls clamp around him fluttering and pulsing and pulling him, proof of his superiority. Even at base level your body was desperate to have his children, desperate to ensure it took. With a gasp he spilled deep within you, granting your body it’s well earned prize.

“Let ‘er go.”

Felix slips from you, letting your chest fall into Hyunjin’s arms again. “Good enough exercise for the day?”

Hyunjin nods.

“Good idea - specially asking for her - best birthday ever.”

Part II