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btscarnivalnet · 2 years

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Headliner Of The Month

Hello, Carnival Goers and Performers alike, please give a round of applause for our Headliner of the Month:

Our Wonderful Performer: Sheena @shina913

You are our Headliner of the Month!

During this month, we want to showcase your incredible talent and skill and share it with the Carnival! For this month, we want you to pick three fics of yours that you’d like us to showcase, and we also wanted to ask you some questions so we can understand how you write, why and what you want to get across with your fics.

Questions for you:

Three Fics: Please Provide the Links

Gradation

Scale

Intersect

When did you start writing fics, and why?

I started writing back in late October/early November 2021. I actually wrote fanfic back in high school—decades ago—in a physical notebook! But it was just for my personal enjoyment and I never shared them with anybody…I wasn’t sure if people would look at me weird while reading about imagining how it would feel to make out with Nick Carter (from the Backstreet Boys)?

But fast forward to present time, I started writing because I was going through a rough patch, mentally and emotionally. I was unhappy at my job and parts of my life, in general. Then, I started reading some BTS fan-fics on Tumblr, AO3, and Wattpad around July ‘21 and a couple of them had been imprinted in my mind, so to speak.

I also started to write because around that time, I wasn’t sleeping much due to my mind just constantly racing in the evenings and then generally feeling unmotivated by daylight. I was desperate for an outlet for my emotions. Then one afternoon, I opened up the “Notes” app on my phone and started to write while waiting from my train home from work. I’m not being poetic about it–it’s literally just how it started LOL

I had no intention of publishing because it started off as more of a form of therapy for me–before I found my therapist. From the Notes app, I eventually downloaded Google docs into my phone and moved my text there at some point–although my original draft for initial scenes on Gradation still lives in the Notes app. I keep it for sentimental reasons and it serves as a reminder of why I started to write and why I keep doing it.

Also, some part of me felt the urge to fill in certain plot holes that I found in other fics–like an ‘unmet need’ of sorts. Those thoughts niggled at me during some nights as well–while I laid in bed reading a 20+ chapter fic at 4AM! So, in an effort to carry out my own agenda of wish fulfillment, I thought, hey–why don’t I write the ending that I want?

What was your first fic?

Gradation

What is your latest fic?

Scions (series)

Why did you choose to write about the fics you have chosen?

Gradation

This story was really more of a form of therapy for me. I mentioned the concept to my sister–who consumes way more fics than I ever have so it felt somewhat validating that she thought it was decent? I showed her snippets of it and she was just happy that I had an outlet for creativity. I told her that I didn’t plan on publishing and that maybe this would just be a long-ass oneshot that I’ll keep for myself.

Eventually, I gathered up the courage to talk about it to one of my first-ever moots on Tumblr, Dee (@deepseavibez)–who is also a great writer, BTW. She very graciously offered to beta it and after doing so, she pushed me to keep writing. She gave me insightful and constructive feedback on my first couple of chapters. At that point, even though she was encouraging, I still didn’t feel confident enough to actually make that jump to format and publish. I think it took me another week or so to decide–also, because I had to look up how to actually publish and format it for the platform LOL I was unfamiliar with Tumblr’s format so I had to ‘learn it’ first–and even now, I’m still trying to learn some tricks LOL!

Scale

I wrote it because…I managed to fall in love with Jin while writing him as a side-character on Gradation–which wasn’t originally planned LOL!!! I also received some comments (while writing Gradation) screaming about him and how they felt bad about the character. So…I tossed the idea around with my sister and Dee and we pretty much agreed that Jin deserved his own happy ending! This was also my first venture into crack-fic writing–which…I eventually admitted to myself that I am really into reading and writing. I seem to always come up with chaotic ideas (that mostly end up getting cut in the end).

This was also the first time that I went with a primarily plot-driven story rather than a character-driven one. I did a lot of research–nothing too deep but just to help tie things together and to make it make sense? I also chose this as one of my favorites because of the effort that I put into this. I get that for fics, it doesn’t need to be that deep but…I just care a lot and that’s just how I am, so I figured that this is how I want to write because this is what I enjoy reading and I hope others do, too.

Intersect

Do I need a good reason to write about Kim Namjoon? Nope, not really LMAO! No, but seriously…I wrote it because I wanted to hit most of the typical fan-fic tropes to build my masterlist. I’ve done a best-friends-to-lovers scenario, strangers-to-lovers…so I wanted to get into enemies-to-lovers. Initially, I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to use Namjoon for this. For the first couple of drafts, he was ‘MemberX’ on the doc LOL! Then, randomly, I just replaced the placeholder with ‘Namjoon’ and the story just flowed from there.

I also had a ton of fun writing this and looking back on my original posting dates, I was really in my element here. I posted almost every week–sometimes even twice a week! My mind was constantly buzzing.

What was the most memorable line for you in each of the fics?

Arghhh–I know this is terrible but I have a ton of favorites! Here’s a list:

Gradation

YN to JK: “The only thing that would ruin this friendship would be an act of God.”

Part 3. Which hits way differently after she says it to him in a completely different tone and context in Part 8. Oof.

YN to JK and vice versa: “Ditto.”

I borrowed this expression from the movie “Ghost” and it felt awkward at first? But as the story went on, I just settled comfortably into it and made it ‘my own’ in a way.

No further words were exchanged. They weren’t necessary.

Part 4. This was the last night that YN and JK spent together before leaving Hawaii. I love conveying tension and emotion with subtle actions.

Jin to YN: “Like I said…it’s all background noise to me.”

Part 6. Writing this scene absolutely cemented my love for Jin.

Everybody in the world needs a Park Jimin in their life.

Part 9. Because they do!!!

Scale

He takes a whiff of the warm coffee and has faint visions of flickering neon lights while he watches the fog lift off the bay’s surface.

Part 2. This visual came to me in a dream–fog and flickering neon lights. I thought it fit with Jin’s current thoughts and how he just couldn’t get YN out of his mind.

Miya to YN: “Oh, honey…I know girls like you. I’ve known girls like you all my life. You are not one in a million. And I’ll tell you right now–there is nothing special about you except what’s between your legs.”

Part 6. I love this because it’s such a classic, soap-opera scene for me–where an antagonist ‘circles’ the protagonist like a shark. Ugh! I live for that drama!

Taehyung to Eunhae: “It’s just uh–I’m pretty familiar with the styling and brush strokes,” he says with a slight emphasis on the word ‘strokes.

Part 8. This sounds corny but I had a lot of fun writing in Tae as this smooth, ‘undercover’ guy who is trying to seduce a mark.

Intersect

There are soooo many because Intersect has taken over ‘Gradation’ as my favorite fic that I’ve written!

Namjoon to YN: “See? That right there–who needs mutual respect and professionalism when I can have blind hatred.”

Part 5.5. This was inspired by ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ and I thought it was just perfect for this scene.

Namjoon: “I can’t help it when you start to debate with me–it’s just…really hot when you start hitting me with facts.”

YN: “Well, when you come at me with large-scale data, how can I not be turned on?”

Namjoon: “So you’re saying you only want me because of my data?”

Part 7. I love puns and double entendres and if there is an opportunity to introduce it into any scene, I will add it!

Namjoon to YN: “You want to watch me lose it?”

Part 8. I haven’t come across many fics where the female OC takes pleasure in watching their male partner come apart at the seams–it’s usually the other way around. This scene was inspired by this 99-cent online book that I read a while ago–I forgot what it was called but that particular scene stuck with me and I thought I’d write that in here.

YN to Namjoon: “I thought you went home?”

Namjoon to YN: “I thought I did.”

Part 9. This was soft…and I wanted to essentially seal the deal on Namjoon and YN’s feelings towards each other.

Jungkook to Namjoon: “You were basically the same…like lines running parallel against one another. All you needed was to…tilt a little bit to make contact.”

And basically the entire intro to Part 10. One of my absolute favorites!

What was your writing process like for each fic?

In general, I am usually prompted by a movie I have recently seen or a TV show. I would pick it apart in my head and find out how I could make it work for me. That’s how it usually starts.

When I get a prompt or idea for a fic (especially for a series), I will either write it down in a Google doc or text my sister about it. Once we have a nice exchange going (meaning she’s into the idea, builds on it), that’s usually a good sign for me to start drafting or writing down bullet points, at the very least.

I try to pre-plan the story beforehand–outlining, if you will–mostly key scenes and plot points that I want to hit as the story progresses. However, I don’t outline all the time. Sometimes, I’ll just have a beginning and a ‘source of conflict’ planned out and I’ll write that down without an ending in mind yet. Eventually, once I figure out an ending, it’s just a matter of filling in the gaps and ‘landing the plane,’ is what my sister and I always say.

Often, I will get random ideas for scenes or conversations that aren’t in chronological order. I keep ‘scratch’ documents for each of my fics, specifically for prompts and I’ll just type out a conversation or add bullet points on what I think would be happening in that scene. When I’m writing a chapter, I’ll revisit that scratch document and I’ll find a line or bullet point and add it to my chapter draft and build on it. Sometimes I’m able to make it work, sometimes, it’s like a square peg. In one of my fics, I ended up scrapping a scene of about 1K+ words from a chapter. I thought it was a solid scene but when I started to read the whole thing, it just felt like it didn’t belong.

Having said that, I very rarely delete anything I cut. I always save those because they might come in handy or could fit another story. There have been a couple of paragraphs that I dropped from past fics that I ended up repurposing for another story. I just did some minor edits to make it fit.

For Gradation, I knew from the jump that I wanted to bookend the story with a wedding and it was a matter of mapping out the couple’s journey on how to get there. I knew that I wanted YN’s ex to come back, I knew that I wanted this falling out to happen. In fact, I drafted their fallout scene way before I mapped out all of the leadup to that. I just needed to connect all of the other events to that scene–with a tiny bit of a rewrite because I inadvertently changed some things in the chapters before that.

For Scale, that was a bit more challenging because there were so many elements to it. I knew that I wanted some complication between Jin and YN which was caused by their difference in social status. I’m a huge consumer of police procedurals and true crime documentaries. I am intrigued by white collar crimes as well. I mentioned ‘research’ here so, once I got to the point of the story where the plot started to unfold, I did a whole deep-dive into U.S. tax laws, high-value property insurance, and fraud. It got really overwhelming for a bit but I pushed through it. I worked very closely with my sister on this part of the story and I had many other ideas that I tossed at her and vice versa–before ultimately settling into what is currently published.

For the penultimate chapter, I originally didn’t plan it ending that way even though my sister had suggested it. FYI, we grew up watching Filipino soap operas–which always have an abundance of drama and crack in them. She had suggested a kidnapping/ hostage situation, which I tried my very best to shut that idea down because 1) I already did so much prior research on the previous chapters, even struggling through writer’s block just to push everything along, 2) it felt weird embracing the crack element of it, and 3) I didn’t know how I could write it without coming off too corny or dramatic? But…once I got to Part 7, it was clear that things were leading up to that point so I just leaned into it.

For Intersect, the process was slightly easier because I ended up using my own industry as part of the plot point here. I didn’t need to do much research because I’ve worked around public policy for over 10 years. In mapping out the actual narrative, I used the same approach–texting and calling my sister back and forth–exchanging ideas. Also running a few ideas past my friend, Dee since she’s also a Namjoon simp.

A few scenes in this fic, as I’ve noted in some chapters, were prompted by movies and some episodes of TV shows. Sometimes, I’ll rewatch those movies or shows to get into the emotion and see how the action unfolds, then I tailor those scenes to fit the current environment of my characters and the story.

Interestingly, about halfway through writing Intersect, I went to go see the boys live in Vegas on their final night. It was completely magical and when we got back to the hotel that evening, I wrote a little bit while Namjoon’s face was still fresh in my mind LOL

When I do chapter updates, I’ll have rough ideas of scenes that I want to happen and write them out as “headers” and build on those. Sometimes, I’ll send snippets to my sister for feedback and she’ll send notes. Once I think that I have a good, flowing chapter, I’ll send the full version to her and my friend, Dee, for beta reading. They make their suggestions and I implement notes or justify/reject them if I disagree. More often than not, I accept their suggestions because having a fresh pair of eyes always helps me.

When I go into a writing sprint, I’ll get tunnel vision and just plow right through the update. And then, I get the marked up version back from Dee and my sister and I think–huh–this suggestion makes total sense! How did I miss that?

So…to all beta readers–kudos to you! I’m aware that not all fic writers get their work beta-read–and that’s your prerogative, of course. For me, personally, I find beta-reading helpful because I am able to address possible questions or fill certain plot holes in my stories. After talking to another random reader, they’ve said that whatever plot points or background story I put in, they would just ‘accept it’ without much hesitation as long as it provides the slightest context into a character and/or rationalizes their actions. And that’s good, I guess but as a reader and consumer of many other forms of fictional stories, I always ask “why” and “how?” The whys and hows make the story interesting for me so when I write, I apply that same approach.

What do you hope readers will take away from the fics?

I’m a huge sap and tend to get very dramatic when I write. However, I’d like to think that my writing style is rooted in relatable and semi-realistic situations–just slightly a bit more dramatized. I want readers to know that I put a lot of thought into my characters, especially for multi-chapter stories–what their motivations are; why they do what they do; what their next action would be; what they would say.

I love creating strong, female characters and portraying them as so–especially when they’re in a position of power. I don’t want to sketch out a female CEO as just a counterpart of a man. Women offer unique perspectives and have experiences with and approaches to different situations so I want to make sure that I am able to give justice to that.

I’m a little older than most fic writers I’ve interacted with on Tumblr so I try to use my own personal experiences and inject them into my characters and stories. In contrast to being a little older, I also love reading content written by other writers whom I know are younger (based on their bios). I learn a lot from their different experiences and perspectives while they tell their stories. I think that just because you’re older, doesn’t necessarily mean that you know better. We all bring something different to the table and that’s the best thing about fan-fiction. There’s something different for everyone and you’ll end up finding something that will cater to your own ‘wish-fulfillment bank.’

I’m just another writer who wants to offer a different perspective and approach to typical, every day fanfic/AU stories and conflicts. And although the endings of most of my stories are generally predictable, I want to make the journey interesting. I feel like that’s what keeps a reader engaged. For a while, I thought that this approach was boring and that I should just go with whatever I think that majority of readers would like.

Having said that, I have and need to keep reminding myself that I started writing because it soothed my soul and I write for me so I try to stick with that. It’s what keeps me centered. I’ve said at some point that if I put something out there just for the sake of posting, that would be the death of my blog. If I’m happy with the content and proud of it, I know that those feelings will come off the page (or screen, in this case) for a reader.

Why do you keep writing? What drives you?

I’m mostly introverted so writing is a form of self-expression for me when the act of speaking fails me–which, 9 times out of 10, it does. I also love dreaming up certain what-if scenarios and just the whole premise of wish fulfillment (or shattered hearts) drives me.

Any writing goals you’ve recently hit? Any goals that you are planning to hit?

It’s not so much a goal that I’ve hit but an achievement but since I started writing late last year, I have written (and closed out) four multi-chapter series in a span of 9 months! That’s over 346,000 words that I’ve written and that’s not even including my one-shots and ongoing series…so I’m pretty proud of that!

It’s a modest goal but I’d like to develop more fics with more of the usual fan-fic tropes like: exes to lovers, arranged marriage, maybe even some fantasy!AUs. I’m always looking for a good prompt!

#headliner of the month #performer: shina913

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psychewritesbs · 3 years

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Chapter 160: How much of Yuji’s life has been orchestrated? + Megumi the stage-five clinger

Happy JJK-Sunday!

If I had to describe chapter 160 with as few words as possible, I would say: Oh f*ck...

My favorite moment was, of course, Megumi acting like a stage-five clinger. His interaction with Yuji in this chapter is especially ominous in light of Yuji being adamant of protecting Megumi from Sukuna.

A second favorite was Sasaki showing up in this chapter because of the implications moving forward.

Let’s jump right in.

How much of Yuji’s life has been orchestrated by Kenjaku?

We start the chapter with Kenjaku talking to none other than Sasaki, one of the members of the Occult Club at the high school in Sendai that Yuji used to attend.

Of course, the bomb that Gege dropped on us in this chapter is when Kenjaku thanks Sasaki “for getting along with my son”.

Like... excuse you?

Not only does this 100% confirm that Kenjaku used Yuji’s mother’s body to give birth to him, but this specific moment + some foreshadowing from previous chapters also opens an interesting can of worms about Yuji’s life: just how much of Yuji’s life has Kenjaku orchestrated?

For me, the implication is that Sasaki had an assigned role to play in Yuji’s life that would inevitably lead to him eating Sukuna’s finger.

I am assuming this because although we don’t see Kenjaku’s interactions with the other people in Sendai, we get to see that, in addition for thanking her for getting along with Yuji, Kenjaku is incredibly kind to Sasaki. We also learn that she’s the only one who has received a special message from him (thanking her).

Ready to make this whole interaction more ominous? Someone pointed out that the kanji in Sasaki’s name means assistant.

All of this brings us right back to Yuji’s free will--or lack thereof?

We already know that Kenjaku claims he made Yuji “ingest” Sukuna’s finger and that Megumi is rightfully concerned with this idea because he witnessed Yuji eat Sukuna’s finger “of his own free will.”

It’s also becoming increasingly obvious that Yuji was "created” solely for the purpose of becoming Sukuna’s vessel.

What this new reveal about Sasaki does is that it makes everything feel like certain events have been part of Kenjaku’s master plan all along. While this still feels a little farfetched, it will come down to how Gege works this idea into the story moving forward.

Come to think of it, even Yuji’s grandfather’s dying words to Yuji take on a new meaning since we know Wasuke knew something was definitively up with Yuji’s mother.

Another possible bit of foreshadowing all the way in chapter 1: While the intersection in the second panel below could be ANY intersection in Japan, it sure looks like the Shibuya crossing:

A quick note on the importance of kanji meanings in JJK before moving onto the next section: knowing the meaning of Sasaki’s name tells us that names are important in JJK. If you haven’t, I recommend you read my break down on the meaning of Megumi’s FULL NAME. His first name is important, but so is his last name.

The plans moving forward

Going off to Tokyo Colony #2 are Panda and Hakari.

As the strongest, Hakari feels like he should take on Hajime. As for Panda, it looks like his focus will be on hunting down Angel.

Side note: I love that Hakari is still calling Megumi names. Guess Senpai can’t help himself.

I must admit I was disappointed to find that Kirara will stay behind to report, but it is what it is. I am assuming Gege could see no use for Kirara and decided to leave the character out of the action for the time being.

As for Megumi and Yuji, they’ll be heading to Tokyo Colony #1 to target Higuruma, everybody’s new favorite Law & Order boss.

This brings us to Megumi’s current state of mind...

Megumi the stage-five clinger

I had a hard time coming up with the title for this section because what I see happening is that Megumi is starting to feel the pressure of the looming deadline for Tsumiki joining the Culling Game. What his behavior shows, however, is that he needs Yuji with him and is clinging onto him but won’t come out and say it--opting instead for aggression towards Yuji, the very same person he needs most.

His behavior reminded me of how Megumi could be mean to Tsumiki even though he clearly adores her. Apparently that’s the meaning of being tsundere. I’ve read about the term tsundere before but it never “clicked” until this moment and I just love Gege’s interpretation of the trope through Megumi’s character.

It goes without saying that it was REALLY interesting to me to see Megumi’s dynamic and interaction with Yuji in this chapter because it looks like Gege is letting us know Megumi’s state of mind continues to be one of desperation--remember that dogeza bow from chapter 157?

The thing about Megumi is that he looks stoic on the outside, but he’s actually an incredibly emotional person who doesn’t often show how he’s feeling.

I hadn’t caught on, but in chatting with @justafrenchlondoner about the chapter, they pointed out Megumi’s behavior in his dynamic with Yuji appears nervous and aggressive.

Upon a second look I have to agree that Megumi is acting out of character and aggressive with Yuji when all that Yuji really wants is to protect Megumi from Sukuna.

And yes, let me go ahead and sound like a broken record as I remind you of Yuji’s rather ominous words from chapter 143 yet again:

And this is the part of the chapter that knocked the air out of me: Megumi telling Yuji to stfu about Sukuna but Yuji thinking to himself “as long as I’m around you will suffer” back in ch143 is so damn ominous.

Oh f*ck...

But this is what REALLY gets me about this whole interaction and why I’m calling Megumi a stage-five clinger...

Even though Megumi is calling Yuji selfish, in reality, the one being selfish is Megumi.

This is, of course, my own interpretation of the situation, but to me it feels as though Megumi is clinging onto Yuji’s strength for dear life.

It’s almost like Megumi needs not just Yuji’s physical strength, but also his unwavering conviction or mental strength.

If you think about it, Megumi has only recently started fighting to win. Remember how unsure he was of himself when fighting Sukuna for the first time? It wasn’t until he went up against the Cursed Spirit from the Yasohachi bridge that he let go of his inhibitions.

Megumi’s battles during Shibuya were the pinnacle of his growth as a character in that moment. If I remember correctly, according to the timeline of events, the Shibuya incident happened around two weeks prior to the current chapter. You could say that although he is more comfortable in his strength than before, Megumi is still growing into his strength at this point.

The thing about Megumi is that everybody and their Divine Dog believes in him and sees his potential except for him. As Gojo tells him “you undervalue yourself.”

Looking back, the way Megumi asks begs Yuji for help in chapter 143 is very enlightening of how Megumi needs Yuji’s strength:

I initially had read this to mean Megumi needed Yuji’s physical strength. Upon second look, however, Megumi has always seemed to have admiration for Yuji’s conviction.

With the looming deadline for Tsumiki’s vow to join the Culling Game, as Megumi starts to feel the pressure to make his plan work, who better to keep around than the person who will always go for the home run and whose strength he admires?

In other words, like hell he’s going to let Yuji leave his side. Which, again, only makes it more heartbreaking to think Sukuna is up to no good regarding Megumi and Yuji wants to protect him from that.

Oh f*ck.......

The panel below feels like a bit of a lighthearted and comical moment, but it’s also interesting to note that this is the second time they “fight”.

The first “fight” having taken place during the Cursed Womb Arc.

If you will remember, Gege used the Cursed Womb Arc and the Origin of Obedience Arc to show us how much our favorite trio had grown.

Not sure Gege is going to parallel something here again, but just interesting to note.

Oh f*ck...

Ya, please excuse the French.

Despite the many words I’ve shared here, this chapter left me mostly speechless.

I feel like I’ve been trapped in Gojo’s limitless domain expansion and all I can think is “oh f*ck” or “halloween” (if you catch my drift).

Chapter 160 was incredible because it looks like Gege has finally finished putting all his pieces into place and is ready to go for the kill by:

Starting to unravel the story bit by bit, giving us all of the twists we both saw and did not see coming, and

Ramping up the stakes. Taking into consideration the estimates that JJK is somewhere around 60-70% done at this point, It’s not a matter of whether some of our beloved characters will die, but about who, when and how they will die

One last detail

I love the last four panels of the chapter showing Panda, Hakari, Yuji and Megumi all wearing their uniforms (barring Panda) and getting ready to become official participants of the Culling Game by entering their respective barriers.

Knowing that Gege is a very talented artist capable of showing and expressing emotions through his art, I feel like these panels tell us a lot about what the characters might be thinking and I thought I’d expand on that.

Bear in mind this is my personal interpretation as an artist:

Panda looks excited and ready to fight, perhaps even confident. Panda is saying “bring it!” with his body language

There’s a hint of something I can’t describe in Hakari’s face. It’s almost like he’s coming face to face against how big of a challenge this is going to be and yet he’s resolved to walk straight into “the depths of hell itself”

Yuji looks focused, determined to go in and give it his best no matter what comes his way--that’s just who he is

And then there’s Megumi. I’ve been drawing Megumi recently, and one thing I noticed is that he has very specific micro-expressions. In his panel, he’s warming up his wrists as though he’s getting ready to fight, he has a focused look on his face, but the shadows around his eyes say he might be feeling like he is carrying the heavy burden of the uncertainty surrounding the situation he’s going through

With all that being said... the Culling Game is officially starting and we’re in for a one-way ride straight to hell.

Thank you for reading and happy JJK-Sunday!

What about you? What did you enjoy most about chapter 160?

#fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen manga #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #god i love jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen theory #jjk ch 160 #gege akutami #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #hakari kinji #jjk meta #jjk theory

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themagnuswriters · 4 years

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Writing a Muslim Character

The Mods of the Magnus Writers discord server and community are putting together a variety of resources for Magnus Archives fan creators; these have been collated from articles on the topics, our own experiences, and the experiences of the members of the Magnus Writers discord. These are definitely not comprehensive or the only viewpoints out there, and are by no means meant as a way to police fanworks, but as a way to support and inspire fan creators in creating thoughtful and diverse works. Please note that external links will be added in a reblog to outsmart tumblr’s terrible tagging system, so make sure to check those out as well!

This resource in particular was put together by Mod Jasmine: hi, all!

While there are no canonically Muslim characters in TMA, Muslim headcanons are common in fanworks—particularly for Basira, and sometimes Jon (which I love to see!). I have cobbled together this post from my own experiences to help support and inform fans in these areas, and as part of my diabolical plan to get more Muslim!Basira and Muslim!Jon fics to shove into my brain.

First, two gigantic caveats:

I was raised Sunni Muslim in Egypt, which is a majority Sunni Muslim country, and still live there. This means my experience will be very different from someone raised in a majority Christian country like the UK, and different again if they are not Sunni and not Arab.

I am currently ex-Muslim. This does not mean I bear any ill will towards Islam or Muslims, just that it wasn’t for me, and I felt it was important to be upfront about that. I’ll be linking to resources by practicing Muslims in the reblog to this post, whether to add to my opinions and experiences or provide you with a different opinion. I am not here to put my voice over that of Muslims, just to do some of the work so they don’t have to. Obviously, if any Muslims have any additions or suggestions for this post, I’m happy to accommodate them.

Alright. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get started with the basics of writing a Muslim character.

(Warning: this is absurdly, absurdly long)

Basics:

Muslims follow two main sources of religious instruction: Quran and Hadith.

The Quran is the holy book, considered to be dictated by the angel Gabriel to the Prophet Mohammed, who then relayed what he was told to his followers. It is composed of surahs, or chapters, which have individual ayat, or verses. There are no varying versions of the Quran, later additions, or anything considered lost in translation. Any Arabic Quran is considered to be the same text that the Prophet Mohammed relayed, unchanged. As a result, while Muslims can debate interpretations of the Quran (although that’s often still left to the scholars), none debate the actual words of the text.

Hadith, meanwhile, are the sayings or teachings of the Prophet Mohammed. Their validity can be disputed, as they were written by his followers after his death, and mainly depend on having several witnesses for a specific saying or situation. The more witnesses there were, the more valid the hadith is considered to be.

When in doubt or should there be any contradiction between the Quran and Hadith, Muslims will always refer to the Quran first and foremost.

Denominations:

The bigggest (but not only!) divisions of Islam are Sunni and Shia, and both of those have separate madhabs, which are the separate thoughts and stances of specific Imams. When writing a Muslim character, a good first step would be to decide where your character’s family might have come from, as that could help inform which denomination your character might belong to. This will in turn inform things like the beliefs they grew up with, how they pray, their holy holidays, and so on. Obviously, all denominations fall under the bigger umbrella of Muslim, but can vary in practice.

Background:

The intersection of culture and religion affects a character beyond which denomination they likely belong to, such as whether they call prayer salah or namaz, the foods they might associate with Ramadan or Eid, and their community’s stance on things like hijab and alcohol.

One thing to keep in mind is that being Muslim is not synonymous with being Arab and vice versa. Not all Arabs are Muslim, not all Muslims are Arab or even Middle Eastern. In fact, the largest Muslim country in the world is Indonesia. That said, depending on your character’s race and backround, there is the potential they may have faced Arab elitism or other strands of racism within Muslim circles. Please see the reblog of this post for an article about one Black British Muslim woman’s experience with racism.

And, of course, your character and their family do not need to have been immigrants at all. They or their family may have been converts instead. According to most Muslim schools of thought, all that’s required for a person to be Muslim is stating the shahada in Arabic, honestly and with intent. It goes, “Ashhadu an la ilah illa Allah, wa an Mohammadan rasul Allah,” which translates as “I bear witness that there is no god but God, and that Mohammed is His prophet.” Shia Muslims, I believe, have an additional section, but otherwise that’s it. Recite that in front of witnesses with sincere belief and that’s all you need to be Muslim.

Pillars of Islam:

These are the duties or cornerstones of a Muslim’s faith and considered to be acts every Muslim should strive for. What the pillars are can, I think, differ between denominations, with Shia Muslims having additional ancillaries as well (any Shia readers, please feel free to correct me!) but both denominations agree that the following are important:

Salah—prayer

Sawm—fasting during Ramadan

Zakat—giving a certain percentage of income to charity or the community

Hajj—pilgrimage to Mecca

In all cases, these are considered mandatory only for those who are able. A person who cannot perform hajj, whether due to not being physically able to or lacking the funds to travel, is under no obligation.

Prayer:

Prayer is performed five times a day while facing the Qibla, which is the direction of Mecca. Prayer is formed of units, called rak’at, which consists of a set of actions done in a specific order. The “How to Pray Salah, Step by Step” article linked in the reblog of this post provides fairly good prayer instructions for beginners, so check it out for details! These include bowing, prostrating, and reciting some surahs.

Each of the five daily prayers has a different number of rak’at, as well as its own name and allotted time of day, as follows:

Fajr, which means Dawn and can be performed at any point until the sun rises (two rak’at).

Dhuhr, which means Noon (four rak’at)

Asr, performed in the afternoon (four rak’at)

Maghreb, which means sunset and can be performed at any point until it’s dark (three rak’at)

Isha, performed at night and can be done at any point until dawn (four rak’at)

The specific time of prayer will differ day to day and place to place, according to the sun, but those are the rough timeframes for each. It’s generally preferred that a Muslim does their prayer on time, but in practice some Muslims find it difficult to wake up for Fajr, for instance, and just try to make sure they get a morning prayer in before noon.

On Friday, there is a congregational Friday prayer at Dhuhr in a mosque called the Jumu’a prayer (which, fun fact, literally means gathering and is also the Arabic name for Friday!). Only men are required to take part in the congregation, however.

In Muslim majority countries, the time for prayer is announced by the adhaan, the call to prayer, from mosques and in media. This won’t be the case in the UK, and the character will likely have to rely on an adhaan app or looking up what time prayer should be.

There are various requirements for a prayer to be correct, chief of which is facing the Qibla and purity. Before performing prayer, a Muslim must purify themself by performing wudu, or ablutions, which basically involves washing the hands, arms, nostrils, face, head, and feet a specific number of times using clean water. The way I was taught these must be performed in a certain order, and the person shouldn’t speak during or after until their prayer is finished. This may be different for others.

Wudu is considered valid until nullified by bodily functions such as urinating, defecating, vomiting, flatulence, or any sexual activity. For Sunni Muslims, it’s also invalidated by going to sleep. If none of these have happened, a Muslim can perform more than one prayer using the same wudu.

Notably, a Muslim cannot pray if they’re on their period, as they’re considered in a state of impurity.

Another important requirement is that a Muslim be dressed modestly for prayer. The general guideline is that Muslim men should cover the area between their navel and knees with loose, non-revealing clothing, and that during prayer it’s preferred that they cover their chests as well Muslim women should cover everything except their face, hands, and feet. This means that a woman who isn’t hijabi would still wrap a hijab for prayer. For nonbinary Muslims, I don’t think there are specific guidelines yet, although please feel free to correct me.

If praying at home, a family may choose to pray together. In this case, the male head of the household usually stands at the front and acts as Imam, leading the prayer. Other men will tend to be in front of or beside women, as generally women should not pray in front of a man. This is the case even, especially, if he is not praying.

Children aren’t required to pray, as they’re considered innocent and have no obligations, but may want to take part early on or may be encouraged to practice.

Praying is one area you’ll find denominational differences. For example, while Sunnis fold their arms in prayer, Shia keep their arms to their side, and while Shia Muslims make sure their foreheads touch a piece of clay or earth when they prostrate, Sunnis do not. If you write your character praying, keep these details in mind.

Fasting:

During the holy month of Ramadan, Muslims fast from Fajr (dawn) until Maghreb (sunset) every day. This means they abstain from consuming anything—yes, even water, cigarettes, and medicine. They should also abstain from sexual activities and cursing. Most importantly, they must have the intention to be fasting. This means that not eating and drinking because they were asleep for that entire period of time or just lost track and forgot does not count as fasting.

Generally, the idea is more to try to be more pious and avoid sin throughout the month. It’s thought that the shaytan (or devil) is chained up during Ramadan, so any temptation or sinning is a person’s own doing. The way I was raised, I was taught that sawm/fasting is invalidated by sexual thoughts and raising your voice as well. Many people also try to dress more modestly during Ramadan, with some women opting for looser clothing or a headscarf. Many Muslims will try to read the whole Quran during Ramadan.

After Maghreb, Muslims break their fast with Iftar (which means breakfast, hah) and have a late night meal called Suhour. Since the Muslim calendar is a lunar calendar, Ramadan is 11 days earlier every year. Depending on when Ramadan falls in the year, there can be barely any time between iftar and suhour in certain parts of the world, as the sun is up for so much of the day.

Given the length of time and difficulty involved, there are exceptions and allowances for fasting. A person is not required to fast if they are:

A child (up to puberty)

Ill or has a medical condition such as diabetes

Pregnant

Travelling

On their period

In fact, if they are on their period it will not be counted, even if they do fast. That said, sometimes people choose to fast while travelling anyway, as travel is less strenuous now than it used to be. If they’re crossing time zones they will have to consider which time zone they’re breaking their fast to. As far as I remember, it’s based on the time zone of the place they just left or started their fast in.

If an obstacle to fasting is temporary, such as their period, they’re expected to make those days up with additional fasting before next Ramadan. Otherwise, they are allowed to make up for the lost fast in another way, such as by donating money or feeding fasting people. Whether due to societal pressure (which is formidable in Muslim-majority countries) or out of consideration for others who are fasting, those who are not fasting for whatever reason may often choose to hide this and only eat in secret.

If a person forgets they were fasting or accidentally consumes something, it does not invalidate the fast , and as soon as they remember or realise the mistake they can have the intention to fast again and continue with their day.

While children are exempt, many families will start them off by fasting for half a day so they can build up to a full day when they hit puberty.

Ramadan traditions vary wildly from country to country and culture to culture, but generally it’s a time for family gathering and celebration. Often there are special Ramadan-specific food, drink, and decorations, and it ends with Eid ul-Fitr which has its own specific foods and celebrations. Basically, imagine if Christmas lasted a month. That’s how big a deal Ramadan is.

In my experience, the first few days are usually the hardest. Water is what I tended to miss the most, even if I managed to stay up long enough or set an alarm to wake up to drink just before fajr, followed closely by swearing. Anyone who drinks caffeine or smokes cigarettes will likely find abstaining from those more difficult than water. By the end of the month, though, it gets much easier and I often got to the point where I barely noticed. I will say, however, that the longest I’ve had to fast has been maybe 16 hours. A summer Ramadan in the UK would be more difficult due to the much later sunsets.

Halal and Haram:

Halal means “permissible,” while haram means “forbidden.” You might have heard these words in passing before, such as halal food, but they are used for many areas of life.

Things that are considered haram include:

Consuming, serving, or trading in intoxicants, such as alcohol

Consuming improperly slaughtered meat or meat from forbidden animals, such as pork

Extramarital sex

Tattoos

Gambling

Men wearing silk or gold

A Muslim woman marrying a non-Muslim man (although it’s fine for a Muslim man to marry a non-Muslim woman)

Being immodest

Modesty is expected of all genders, including men. If you’ll recall from the section on prayer, the general guideline for male modesty is that they should cover the area between their navel and knees with loose, non-revealing clothing. Note that for women, modesty does not necessarily involve wearing a hijab. There is actually a ton of controversy as to whether the hijab is a fard (requirement) or not, as described in the following section.

The Hijab:

To be hijabi takes more than just throwing on a headscarf. As a word, hijab means “barrier” or “veil,” and a hijabi person would be expected to cover everything except their face and the palms of their hands, and to ensure that their clothes are loose and non-revealing. It all comes from an interpretation of two verses in the Quran that many scholars nowadays agree to mean the hijab is required, and that some say actually call for a face covering as well, which is called a niqab.

This wasn’t always the case, however, and these days there is still the occasional controversial scholar (I remember a few kerfuffles coming out of Egypt’s Al-Azhar mosque recently) saying it isn’t and has never been required at all. At least in the Arab world, this is largely due to the wave of Wahhabism (which is a specifically fundamentalist interpretation of Islam) that’s taken over the region in the past half a century. Before that, the idea of a hijab being a religious requirement was less widespread.

I’m not here to argue who’s right or wrong, just to make you aware that the hijab as we know it today hasn’t always been considered a requirement for a Muslim woman. Most of the women of my family never wore any form of head covering, but more and more they are an exception rather than the norm.

The choice of whether to wear a hijab can mean very different things, depending on the surrounding culture. For instance, my grandmother, the strictest woman I have ever known, got married in a very cute sleeveless dress that went just under the knees, and when she grew older she wore a head-covering more as a cultural indication of age rather than any religious reason. In my generation, in a country with a Muslim majority, lack of visible signs of devoutness have become almost a class marker, with some upper-class women using their lack of head-covering as a sign that they are “more Westernized” or “modern.” And again, I want to emphasize that this is the case for my country only.

This will be completely different for Muslim minorities, where the hijab can become a symbol of pride and unity.

I will say that it’s very rare for women to be forced into getting veiled, whether in Muslim minority or majority countries. I’m not saying it never happens, just that it’s not the “oppressive tool of the patriarchy” outsiders sometimes think it is. Women may face some societal pressure, but by and large it is considered a choice and often an empowering one. In fact, I have friends whose families discouraged them from wearing a hijab too young and emphasized only taking the decision when they were sure they wanted to. If writing a Muslim character when you’re non-Muslim, I strongly suggest not trying to tackle the story of someone forced into a hijab, as there’s a lot of nuance there and it’s very easy to fall into harmful stereotypes. The hijabi woman who gets “liberated” and takes off her hijab is also overdone and harmful. Please don’t.

Everyday Life:

Muslims are not a monolithic entity, and some will be more devout or religious than others. There are those who will pray their five a day and others who only pray during Ramadan or Eid, some who don’t drink and some who do, hijabis who dress only in loose clothing and those who wear tight trousers or show some of their hair, some who have tattoos, and some who may date or even have sex before marriage. However, this isn’t a carte-blanche not to do research when writing a Muslim character, because even if they break a rule of Islam, they will be conscious of it, may be concerned about their community’s response to it, and in any case will be affected by it.

For instance, I know many Muslims who drink alcohol. Some interpret the text differently, saying that since the sin is getting drunk then they won’t drink enough to get drunk, just buzzed. Some only do it on special occasions or on vacation, saying they know it’s a sin but it’s fine on occasion and they’ll repent later. All of them would probably dive under a table if they thought their family was nearby.

For more opinions on Muslims and dealing with alcohol, take a look at the “Islam and Alcohol” article linked in the reblog of this post.

Here are things that a character who is a practicing Muslim might do or be concerned about in their day to day life:

Checking ingredients to make sure they’re all halal. This goes for things like food, drink, medicine, anything consumable. Things like gelatine capsules are only halal if the source of the gelatine is itself halal, for instance.

Keeping up with their prayers. With five prayers a day, some will inevitably happen while they’re out of the house. Some Muslims prefer to just group their prayers when they get home, but since it’s preferable to do prayers on time, others may try to pray while out and about This means considering the following:

Finding a bathroom for wudu. Part of wudu involves washing feet and the head, which isn’t feasible in a public location or if the person is hijabi and doesn’t want to unwrap and rewrap their hijab. In that case, they can generally wipe a wet hand over their socks and top of their head covering.

They may carry a prayer carpet or have one stashed in a convenient location, but it’s not a must.

Finding a clean and secluded place to pray. Generally, it’s not done to pray in a place where someone will pass in front of you, and a woman must also take care to pray away from men’s eyes.

Figuring out where the Qibla is. Luckily, there are apps for that.

If a woman is not hijabi, she would have to carry a veil and, depending on her clothes, something to cover up so she can pray.

If they’re hijabi, they’ll probably have to adjust or re-wrap their hijab throughout the day, depending on the material and their activities. This would typically happen in bathrooms or any other space that doesn’t include men, as they can’t reveal themselves to any men who aren’t of their immediate family. For more on the hijab, and the day to day realities of wearing and wrapping one, take a look at the links provided in the reblog of this post.

A Muslim woman may choose not to accept handshakes from men who aren’t family. She has probably considered how to deal with that potential awkwardness.

If they’re fasting, they might carry some dates or biscuits or something in case they need to break their fast while on the go.

If making plans, they might say, “Insha’allah” which means “God willing.” I was always admonished to do so to acknowledge the future is entirely within God’s hands.

If asked how they are, they might reply with “Alhamdullilah” which means “Thanks be to God.”

When starting to eat, they may say, “Bismillah,” which means “In the name of God” and when done eating may say “Alhamdullilah.” These can also be invoked silently.

As you might have noticed, Allah’s name is invoked pretty often. While it’s not preferable to swear using God’s name just to make a point (“Wallahi”), there’s nothing against it, really.

Fundamentally, an important thing to remember is that Islam is a religion of ease and not hardship. This is an actual Quranic quote. What this means is, it may seem like there are a lot of rules to keep in mind, but there are also a ton of allowances for when those rules aren’t feasible, just like the case for fasting above. Other allowances include how an elderly or disabled person who may not be able to perform the motions of prayer can pray while sitting in a chair or even lying in bed. If there isn’t any clean water to purify before prayer or if using the water would mean lack of drinking water, a Muslim can use dust or sand to purify, and if no dust or sand is available then they don’t need to purify at all and can simply pray.

This means that, say, if your Muslim Jon wants to pray while kidnapped by the circus, he can, even without being able to perform wudu, even without knowing where the Qibla is, even without being able to move or say anything at all.

For more day-to-day tidbits, check out the “More on writing Muslim characters” link in the reblog of this post.

LGBTQ Muslims:

Needless to say, Queer Muslims absolutely do exist, and their being Muslim doesn’t cancel out their queerness or vice versa. While there are Quranic verses that have been interpreted as condemning homosexuality, there are also other interpretations, and queerness has existed in Muslim societies for ages. There was a ton of homoerotic imagery among Abbasid poets during the Golden Age of Islam, for example.

However, modern-day attitudes can be difficult to get around, and queer Muslims may have difficulty finding their place in both Muslim spaces and queer spaces, the latter which often expect them to reject religiosity.

Although I am queer myself, I don’t feel it’s my place to speak for queer Muslims and their relationships with their communities beyond this, so I’ll let some queer practicing Muslims speak for themselves. Please see the reblog of this post for valuable contributions from queer Muslims about their experiences.

Miscellaneous:

This is mostly for all the random tidbits I thought up while writing this that didn’t fit anywhere else and also because I don’t know when to quit apparently, SO!

Allah is just Arabic for God. Muslims can and do use these terms interchangeably, such as saying “God willing,” instead of “Inshallah,” even in an Arabic-speaking country.

Also, God has 99 names! Just a fun fact for you there.

The Devil in Islam is pretty different from his Christian counterpart. Referred to as Iblis or Shaytan, among other names, he is not a fallen angel and there is no great revolt story, nor is he considered a root of all evil. Instead, he is a djinn made of smokeless flame who refused to bow down to Adam, as he felt he was made of superior stuff and not about to bow to a creature made of mud. His disdain for humanity is what has caused him and other shayateen/demons to try and tempt humans.

A person’s right hand is considered purer than their left, so it’s encouraged to always eat with your right hand. Unfortunately, this does mean left-handed people face something of a stigma—or at least that’s the case here in Egypt. My cousins, both lefties, both eat with their right hand, though they do everything else with their left.

Similarly, it is considered better to enter spaces with your right foot, though only the most devout are likely to think of this all the time. This is especially considered for entering a mosque or new home.

A Muslim might say or write “Peace be Upon Him” whenever the Prophet Mohammed is mentioned, written as (PBUH), and “Subhanuh wa Taala” when mentioning Allah, written as (SWT).

The Evil Eye is mentioned in the Quran as “hasad,” and considered to be a very real thing. This jealous or envious energy is considered able to ruin good things in your life, even if the jealous person didn’t intend to. There are some surahs that are considered good to ward against it, as well as incense, the colour blue, the number five, and the symbols of the nazar (which is a round, blue-ringed eye) and the khamsa (an open five-fingered palm, also known as the Hand of Fatima). The nazar, khamsa, and belief in the evil eye aren’t unique to Islam at all. What is unique to Islam is that a Muslim might preface a compliment with “Masha’allah” which means “As God wills it,” to ward off their own evil eye.

Much of the Quran in Arabic rhymes and is very poetic, which can make surahs easy to memorise by rhythm. It can also make recitations by a skilled reader very lovely.

#the magnus archives #tma #writing resources #muslim characters

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yasminbenoit · 4 years

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Yasmin Benoit in Cosmopolitan: “I’m the Unlikely Face of Asexuality”

I was 10 years old when I started to wonder if there was something wrong with me. I realised I was asexual around the same time as my peers realised they weren’t. In late primary school, the boys and girls didn't want to play together anymore - they 'fancied' and wanted to 'go out' with each other. I watched girls fighting over boy drama in the cafeteria and wondered what had gotten into everyone.

That’s when I decided I’d attend an all girls’ school under the naive belief that, in the absence of boys, none of the girls would care about sex or dating. I quickly discovered that a same-sex environment had the opposite effect.

By the time I was a teenager, my peers started to wonder what was wrong with me. The sexual frustration was turned up to 100, which made it all the more obvious that I wasn't reacting the same way as the other teens. While their sexuality was directed towards any nearby boy, a poster of a boy, or even each other, mine wasn't directed anywhere. And other people wanted to work out why that was more than I did.

Before believing that it was just my innate sexuality, it was easier to assume that I was gay and in denial. Maybe I was molested as a kid and I’d forgotten about it, but been left with psychological scars. I could be hiding a hidden perversion – my dad asked me whether I was into inanimate objects or children when I told him that I wasn’t attracted to men or women. I might be a psychopath, unable to empathise with people enough to deem them attractive. The theory that held the most weight was that I was 'mentally stunted', and I was treated as such. I started to wonder if they were right.

At 15, I learned the word asexual. It was during yet another analysis session of my sexuality at school. I described myself as not being attracted to men or women for the thousandth time, and someone suggested I might be “asexual or something.” With a quick Google search, I realised I wasn’t alone. Asexuality is a term used to describe those who experience a lack of sexual attraction and/or low levels of sexual desire towards others.

It wasn’t a mental or physical disorder, or a personality flaw, or anything related to my appearance or my life experiences. It wasn’t the same as being celibate, or anti-sex, or just being a ‘late bloomer.’ It was a legitimate sexual orientation characterised purely by a lack of sexual attraction or desire, meaning that it had no implications on whether an asexual could masturbate, or actually enjoy sex, or have children, or be in a romantic relationship. There were no limitations, just a way to bring a lot of people under one united umbrella.

I had finally found an answer to everyone’s question... only, no one else knew what the hell I was talking about. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop them from spewing the same ignorant views I had been hearing for years.

To an extent, I can’t blame them. It’s been almost 10 years since I discovered the term and it is barely part of public consciousness. It isn’t included in sex education or any conversations about sexuality. We’re left out of policies, pathologised in psychiatry and there is next-to-no representation for asexual people in the media. You can count positive examples on one hand. Most of the time, asexuality is either a fleeting reference, the butt of a joke, or a trait in a character that’s either an alien, robotic, or evil – a manifestation of their lack of empathy. Think your Sheldon Cooper, your Data from Star Trek, your Lord Voldemort.

Especially for women, it's seen as a symptom of their prudishness, unattractiveness or overall blandness, which needs to be resolved by the end of the plot so they can be complete, appealing, lovable people. After all, being virginal is a good thing, perpetual sexual unavailability is not, particularly when you need a loving sexual relationship to be whole. Even our non-fiction portrayals tend to conform to stereotypes and perpetuate a ‘woe is them’ narrative. And among all of these things, they’re probably white, occasionally East Asian, but never Black. Black people are hypersexualised to the point where that would become contradictory and confusing for the audience. And that’s what I would end up being.

When I first mentioned on social media that I was asexual, I had no intention of becoming a voice for the asexual community. It seemed too unlikely to contemplate. After all, I was a Black gothic student from Berkshire who got sat on at school because I was that invisible. On top of that, my work as an alternative lingerie model meant I was far from the girl/boy-next-door like the asexual activists who had come before me. But, apparently, that's what the community wanted. From there, my activism took off.

I quickly found myself becoming one of the community's most prominent - but unlikely - faces. I used my platform to raise awareness for asexuality, empower asexual people, dispel misconceptions and promote our inclusion in spaces we've traditionally been left out of. From incorporating asexuality into lingerie campaigns, speaking at government institutions, being the first openly asexual person to appear on LGBTQ+ magazine covers, and opening asexual spaces, my work has been intersectional if not a little controversial.

I had never experienced hatred online like I have since speaking openly about asexuality. Only through my work did I become aware of acephobia and the exclusionary discourse surrounding what at first seems like an inoffensive and discreet orientation. It’s shown me how important asexuality activism is, and it’s made me aware of just how diverse, powerful and unique the asexual community is. How they stand up for the rights of others even when we’re ignored ourselves, how they’ll never let their invisibility stop them from developing their own unique culture, history, and progressive understanding of human sexuality and love.

This week is Asexual Awareness Week, an occasion founded by Sara Beth Brooks a decade ago. It’s one of the few times in the year that the community demands to be seen and people start looking.

Don’t miss us, we have a lot to show you.

#yasmin benoit #ace week 2020 #asexual awareness week #ace week #cosmopolitan #asexuality #asexual #asexual pride #aromantic #ace discourse #acephobia #this is what asexual looks like #asexual awareness

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

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Recess - Nanami Kento

Don’t mind if i do~ femme reader no content warnings, it’s just a little fluff :) 2.1k words

"Papa, do you like Miss (Y/N)?" The young voice of Kento's son sounded next to him as he walked the young boy to his second grade class.

"What do you mean?" A blush tinged Kento's ears; it was embarrassing his son could figure it out so easily.

"Well I always catch you lookin' at her when you drop me off...and you talk to her a lot sometimes..." The child didn't really have a lot to go off of and he squeezed his fathers hand as they came to an intersection.

"I like her a normal amount, Yuji." Just a few more blocks and Kento would be free from this.

"What's that mean?"

"We're just acquaintances." Kento picked up his pace just a little, eager to drop him off and staunchly avoid eye contact with you.

"What's that mean?" Yuji echoed again, looking up at Kento curiously.

"I don't like Miss (Y/N) like how you say I do.” Finally they were at the school and Kento could ease up the hold he had on his son's hand. There was a swarm of other kids all in their little uniforms, matching tops and shorts for the upcoming summer weather.

“Miss (Y/N)!” Letting go of his hand, Yuji ran to you, latching onto the fabric of your sundress as you stood outside the school and made sure the kids were going to the right places.

“Hello!” Rubbing the back of Yuji’s head, you smiled down at him. “Are you ready for school today?”

“Yeah!” Today was a special day, after lunch they got to watch a movie about dinosaurs. Opening his mouth to speak again, Yuji saw something else that caught his eye. “Megumi! Nobara!” And off he ran to say hello to his friends.

Kento stood awkwardly where Yuji had left him, clenching and unclenching his fists. Should he talk to you? It wasn’t like Yuji dictated what he could and couldn’t do, but he didn’t want the kid to get any more impressions. Or would not talking to you make it even more obvious?

“Have a good day at work, Nanami.” You called out to him, waving and smiling at him with such ease it made his heart swell.

“Y-you too.” Clearing his throat, Kento waved back and scanned the crowd to see where Yuji was one last time. Spotting his son walking into the building with his friends, Kento nodded toward you and started to walk away. “See you after school.”

“Bye!” Waving again, you turned your attention to another student, and Kento went about his way.

Except he didn’t see you after school, he saw you much earlier than that. Yuji had forgotten his lunch despite swearing up and down that he’d packed it all by himself, so Kento was tasked with delivering it.

Going into the school and walking past brightly decorated classrooms, he quickly found the class Yuji was in. Peeking in through the window to see them all still sitting down, Kento leaned against the wall until the bell rang and they were let out.

“Yuji.” The rich timbre of Kento’s voice cut through the shrill sounds of children, easily reaching the intended recipient.

“Papa, you came!” Setting his sights on the lunch box in Kento’s hands, the little seven year old leapt to grab it. “Sorry I forgot my lunch!”

“It’s okay, I’m just glad I caught it in time.”

“Thanks papa!” Once he got his hands on it, Yuji gave Kento a quick hug and scampered down the hall.

“Hello again, Nanami.” Turning his head, Kento saw you leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed as children filtered out of the classroom.

“Yuji forgot his lunch.” Kento felt a little silly already trying to justify why he was there. You’d probably seen the whole interaction take place and knew exactly what transpired.

“Mhmm, he mentioned that at the start of class today.” Nodding to yourself, you flicked your head behind you. “He told me not to call you, said he ‘for sure’ had a feeling you would come and bring it.” You grinned and pushed yourself away from the door, slyly giving Kento a once over in his business attire. Despite working from home most days, he still chose to get dressed up like this.

Kento could only nod in agreement as he watched you walk back into the room and to your desk in the corner of the room. Letting his eyes roam over the room, Kento could see clearly where his son was sitting, in the middle of the room with a bunch of stickers on his desk.

“Ah, Nanami?” Your shy voice cut through the internal dilemma Kento was having about how to smoothly exit the room.

“Yes?” Taking a slow step into the room, Kento could see you were looking at your computer screen in apprehension.

“Are you good with technology?” A sheepish laugh accompanied your question and Kento thought it was cute you were embarrassed. “I can’t seem to get any video playing on the projector and we’re supposed to watch a movie today.” Gesturing to the device on the ceiling, you worried your lip and looked at him.

“I know a thing or two, I can try.” Committing to coming into the room, Kento walked briskly over to your desk. There weren’t a lot of things that Kento couldn’t do and fixing a computer was surely not one of them.

“Thank you so much! I tried some stuff but it was no use!” Pushing your chair away from the desk and to the side, you let Kento take up the space you were previously in.

Grabbing the mice and beginning to click through applications, Kento wasn’t sure he could fix your problem. Not because he didn’t know what was wrong, he knew exactly what was wrong, but this was the first time he was alone with you and this close. He could smell the light perfume you put on and feel the heat radiating from your body. It was harder to focus than he thought it was.

“I clicked that one before and it didn’t work.” Your arm shot out to point at a few icons, making sure Kento didn’t waste his time on them.

“Really?” He mumbled, clicking on it anyway and chuckling when you grunted in mock annoyance.

“Yes really.” Sticking your tongue out at him, you watched him work intently, eager to know how to fix the problem should it ever come up again.

“Miss (Y/N), I think your computer is opening the wrong application to play the video.” You’d told him before to just call you (Y/N) when no kids were around, but Kento couldn’t bear to drop the formality; he didn’t want to get too comfortable with saying your name like that, it would only spur on the daydreams he had of you.

Mumbling something about how simple the fix was, you stood up and grabbed a remote off the desk, turning the projector on and watching as the opening credits to the movie played on the classroom wall.

“Thank you so much, Nanami!” Clapping your hands together excitedly, you turned to him. Your back was to the large windows, warming you up and casting the sun all around you.

“Happy to help.” Kento nodded, fighting to remain his stoic self and not take notice of how easy it would be to push you against said windows and kiss you. Your class was on the first floor of the building, anyone could walk by and see it if he did it, and that kind of risk had Kento’s heart beating a little faster.

“Yuji is so lucky to have a dad like you, I bet you’re great around the house!” Setting the remote down, you pat Kento on the arm. He really had no choice in the matter, his wife running off shortly after Yuji was born and leaving him with sole custody. Feeling the touch of your hand reminded him how long it had been since he’d had any physical contact with a member of the opposite sex.

“Mi- (Y/N).” Turning sharply to you, Kento took a deep breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as he drank in your form. Summer really suited you, breezy clothes and longer days, the warmth in the air meshing well with the warmth in your personality.

“Yes?” Blinking owlishly at him, you shuffled just the tiniest bit back out of surprise.

“I want to show you how good I am around the house.” The line, coming out stilted and spoken with uncertainty, had your brows coming together a little.

“W-what do you mean?” Your breathing was coming out shorter now, nerves beginning to prickle your skin the longer you and Kento stood looking at each other.

“I want…” Licking his lips nervously, Kento knew this could be a reach. He could be ruining the good relationship the two of you had, the professional relationship you had. He could make you uncomfortable, and while that was the last thing he wanted to do, he couldn’t stop himself from taking a step forward and making you back up into the windows.

“I want to take you out. On a date.” Saying the words all in one big rush, Kento watched your face closely. Your lower lip trembled and your fingers curled into your dress as you thought of a response.

“I’d like that.” Your cheeks were burning intensely and turning your head to look at the wall beside you was the only saving grace you had. The silly little crush you had on Kento, the one you tried to stamp out and ignore, was finally allowed to take shape.

“Really?” Smiling loosely like an idiot, Kento put his hand on the window panes, leaning forward and almost touching you as he exhaled in relief. “I’m glad.” Peeking at you through his lashes, Kento tried to ignore the fact he could see right down your dress and to your breasts.

The longer he looked at you though, the more he realised how close he actually was to you. Your breath reached his face, if he wanted to Kento could drop his arm and easily envelop you in a hug, or perhaps-

“May I…?” He started to ask as he leaned in to kiss you. Hovering over your lips, he brushed the tip of your nose with his as he waited for you to squeak out a yes and nod before proceeding.

Touching your lips gently, Kento forced himself to go slow. There wasn’t any need to rush, he told himself, but the excitement of finally getting to kiss you was threatening to steamroll the control he had over himself.

Reaching a hand out, you rest it on his shoulder, your fingers slowly curling into his collar and holding it tightly. Tilting your head and deepening the kiss slightly, you breathed a little harder through your nose as Kento shuffled closer.

“I knew it!” The overjoyed shriek of Yuji surprised both of you, enough so that you pushed Kento as hard as you could away from you in shock. He was standing at the door to the classroom, his fellow classmates behind him staring in awe and confusion.

“Damn, lunchtime is over already?” Running past Kento’s dazed form, you wiped your lips off furiously as you collected the kids and ushered them into the room.

“I was right, papa! I was right! I was right! You do like Miss (Y/N)! You don’t like her a normal amount, you like her a lot! You were kiss-” Yuji was shouting at the top of his lungs, silenced only by Kento sliding a hand over his mouth.

“Be quiet, don’t yell like that inside the classroom.” Kento groaned, already feeling a headache form at having to explain himself to Yuji later. When he asked you out, he already had a vague plan in the back of his head on how he was going to hide it from the young boy, but that was completely out the window now. “Go sit down, we’ll talk later.” Nudging him toward his desk, Kento tried to ignore the whispers from the other students about what they’d seen.

“Yuji, is Miss (Y/N) your new mom?” Nobara whispered loudly, looking obviously between you and Kento.

“Not yet, they have to get married first.” Megumi whispered back, pointing at his ring finger.

“Married?! I wanna come!”

“I think it’s best I leave.” Straightening his tie, Kento nodded curtly at you before giving Yuji a lingering look. “Don’t make any trouble.”

“Yeah, okay.” Yuji was definitely going to save all the questions he had, saving them for the most opportune time. “Bye papa.”

“See you after school.” He was talking to you just as much as he was talking to Yuji, taking a sneaky glance at you before turning on his heel and walking out of the classroom.

“Miss (Y/N), are you going to live with us now?”

Dinner time was going to be pretty awkward tonight.

#nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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queen-of-my-goofball-army · 3 years

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Undiagnosed Autism-spectrum disorder in The Michells Vs The Machines

I'm sure that more well educated people have put two and two together in this film but I really, really want to put my own spin on it from my experience. For me, as an aspie, film is one of my biggest interests. I love studying and more than anything I love watching and rewatching films. My latest favorite movie was one that I just watched last night for my family movie night, The Michells Vs The Machines. I also went 17 years of my life asking myself the same question that both Rick and his daughter ask each other, what is wrong with him/her?

Well, I'll tell you, in my firmly undiagnosed autistic opinion for far too long, that this family is full of people with undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder. When I was watching it with my parents my mom made the comment that "the dad was a jerk" and maybe "he just didn't love his daughter enough to let her be her own person." I thought that was so not seeing the bigger picture even though it was only fifteen minutes into the film. I have felt like Katie so much with my own dad. My dad is a computer nerd and a physics major for those of you that don't talk to me very often. That means in laminas terms that he's extremely smart. Way smarter than I will ever be in my entire life. Both of my parents are insanely smart in their own rights. My mom is a CPA accountant. But that isn't what I wanted to talk about here. I want to discuss the effect of undiagnosed autism and what it can do to a whole family when they all have it and just don't know that they do. This will probably go on for quite some time so you may stop here or read below the cut because this also has the probablity of getting super, duper personal.

We'll start with Katie! To me, Katie is one of the most relatable characters that I have ever come across. She's a film nerd, which alone has made her supremely relatable as somebody who is thinking about going into a degree in film studies. I am more of a critic of film than somebody who wants to make her own film but nonetheless, there were SO many little moments that I related to. The first thing that I personally noticed and related to was the stimming technique that Katie has. She chews on her hoodie strings. As somebody who has chewed on the drawstrings of hoodies far too often long before I was officially put into the Aspergers box. Aspies are also known to stick with one "special interest" for the rest of their lives if it's one that is wide enough and varied enough to make it applicable. For Katie, that's film. For me that's animation. I appreciated that little detail of most of her dialogue being references to other films because as a lover of films and movies in general I could go for days on just fumes and movie references that nobody else understands. The little things from her hair being perpetually messy (same that's a whole ass mood like I just learned over quarantine how to tye my own hair back), only having one earring in her ear at all times, the way that she dresses and draws on her own hands, this was just me when I was first in high school. I was one of the few people that wore shorts underneath all my skirts/dresses. Everyone who knew about looked at me like I had grown a third eyeball.

Aaron, the younger brother, also just oozes spectrum lil buddy out of his every pore from his being. I do think that they should have picked somebody capable of doing a bit of a younger sounding voice (I know what they were going for, but like Ben Schwartz has become a huge deal in both voice acting and live action before switching mediums.) His special interest is actually quite a common one, he loves dinosaurs. I've met a bunch of people on the spectrum that are fascinated by dinos and what they meant for the world as well as the universe as a whole. To me, there was one scene specifically that was the scene where Katie was lightly teasing him when they were going to the half assed dinosaur extravaganza. For me, this was SO relatable because both of my parents will mess with me about my interests most of the time it's when we go to Disneyland, they'll tell me that we actually aren't going to land of magic but to Timbuckto (hopefully one day they'll say some place else just to switch things up.) I related so hard to Aaron's protesting and whining in this scene since that is always my reaction to doing something that I want to do but get told that I can't do that thing.

Linda is more of your traditional mom but I think that she's on the spectrum as well. Just a more... normalized version as opposed to her family. She's able to be a teacher, she's able to interact somewhat normally around her neighbors. If anything, she reminded me of my own mom. This independent, takes nobody's trash (especially not her husband's), strong minded, and amazing mother who is completely in control of everything. She knows the special interests of her children and is constantly thinking of what will make them happy. Whether it be taking a detour for something dinosaur related, reminding her daughter that her dad loves her no matter what, and even something as simple as watching something that her daughter made and put her heart and soul into. I can't tell you how many times my mom has watched something with me. She watched my first anime Soul Eater with me when I was 12 and ever since then has been trying to get me to watch other shows with her. She's a lot like Linda, your loving, but firm mother who just wants her family to work things out.

Whew boy. This one is going to be probably where I cry. Comparing my dad to Rick is... something that I did consistently when I was watching the film. He's the strong but silent type usually, unless your me and he's just this constant annoyance when I'm trying to do something. He could be seen as just a "Jerk" but I think that is the undiagnosed aspie talking. Rick and Katie just struggle so hard to see eye to eye because their special interests can't intersect to save their lives. This, this hurt me because so often I struggle to relate to my dad. Especially when he talks to me about computers or physics. Now I took physics but without having been in quarantine and having him as my live in tutor I would have failed, not gotten an A. This has resulted me in saying things that I don't mean in the heat of the moment when we do argue. It doesn't happen nearly as much as it used to back when I was in middle school but when it happened it was because of one thing. I lied. I used to lie a lot because I felt so unworthy of being his daughter because on my best days I am not technically smart. You want to know how many nations of the world there were in 1991 when the original Animaniacs was airing? You want to hear my Dot Warner impression? Did you ever wonder how to recognize a specific voice when your watching anime? Have you ever had to watch a panel of your favorite anime voice actor just to laugh at something? No, well I did. But ever since I have started taking a quarter off from community college I have realized something. I am not technically smart. I struggle at learning the rules for math. My dad can do this with his eyes closed but me, I struggle and look like a complete moron. It took years for my dad and I to see eye to eye. Sometimes I still wonder if I was the product of some laboratory experiment of what would happen if two intelligent people came together, fell in love, and expecting that the daughter was smart I was the reject. Watching this movie with my dad I saw so much of my relationship with him on the screen. Struggling to relate to one another, fighting and getting into arguments about petty things, and not being able to be in the same room as one another without heated words because I didn't get him.

The scene that I related to the most when it was in terms of how much Katie just doesn't understand her dad was after he was nabbed by the machines. When Aaron asked her why she said those things to their dad and her simple answer was "I don't know." This. This right here was when I saw me. So many times I've gotten into heated arguments with my dad when he has simply annoyed me at the wrong time and I've just blown up in his face. Then I regret my actions and not know how to apologize for losing my temper with him because "I don't know" just doesn't seem like a nearly acceptable answer. I felt this in my soul because it happened especially often before I was diagnosed.

When I was diagnosed, things started to get better with my dad and I. We haven't had a fight in nearly four years now. He watches cartoons with me now to try and relate to me, it's mostly Pinky and The Brain but it's more than I could have ever asked for. I love my dad so much, more than anything in the entire world. This movie is so, so good at telling a story about how a family of undiagnosed aspie's and people on the spectrum struggle to relate to one another because their special interests are different.

Special interests and family's are especially difficult and I applaud this movie so loud because of the way that it was able to treat the subject matter with integrity and honesty. I'm sorry if this analysis got a little bit long in the toof but thank you for sticking with me! I really hope that if you watched the film you loved my analysis.

#the mitchells vs the machines #aspergers #movie analysis #denki shut up #nobody cares about your emotional backstory #long post #this took me over an hour because I kept crying

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

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Right behind you:(Bodyguard!Santiago “Pope” Garcia x M!Celebrity!reader)

This is my offering for this week’s #writerwednesday from @autumnleaves1991-blog, which this week is joint with @flightlessangelwings’ Jey’s Pride celebration! 🥳

The verbal prompt was: glitter and/or “I’ll always be by your side.”

The visual prompt is the photo below.

This gave me the idea for a very quickly written one shot with bodyguard!Santi and male celebrity reader! I hope you like it!

Warnings: food mentions; mentions of panic attack / hyperventilating. Mentions of sensory overload. One mention of Santi “sucking off” reader. Language. TYPOS, undoubtedly.

Rating: mature for mentions of oral sex but no explicit / actual smut.

Gender stuff: he/him pronouns / masc! terms of endearment used for reader. Implied that reader is a penis owner - no other physical descriptions besides reader wearing a suit and some make-up.

Genre: angst then mainly fluff and happiness! Hurt / comfort, I guess.

ALSO: BONUS CAMEO FROM ANOTHER OSCAR CHARACTER. Did you spot him?

You perch on the couch in your suite, taking steadying breaths and trying desperately to ward off hyperventilation as your bodyguard grips your trembling hand firmly in his. The air is quaking in and out of your lungs and you can no longer help the tears which spike in your eyes and spill over on to your cheeks.

He gives your fingers a squeeze as he crouches before you, and you can’t help the surge of guilt that this is so far outside of his job description. He’s meant to protect you, not comfort you. His work centres on your physical well-being, but you can’t count the times he��s bolstered your emotional well-being too. Then again, this is the only time he’s done so quite as blatantly in front of the rest of your staff, perhaps.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cry, sweetie,” your make-up artist - who will not be getting rehired you decide suddenly- flaps around you, attempting to fuss over you with a tissue. Her panic about her work being ruined at the worst possible moment is plain as day, and it only makes your chest constrict further.

“This isn’t helping” is the only thought blaring loudly in your mind, but you cannot for the life of you push the words out right now. You shut your eyes in an attempt to block it all out. To subdue the sensory overload.

You are thankful that your bodyguard intuits that sentiment on your behalf when you can’t, and you hear his voice is coming from a different angle now, his head whipped sharply sideward and up towards the offending MUA.

“For real? Ffff....” you close your eyes and hear Santi bite down on a curse. You’d laugh if you weren’t so preoccupied, trying desperately to focus on his voice amidst the chaotic, intersecting hubbub of the room. “Ma’am, could you please back the shit up?” He bites. Apparently he can’t stifle the cursing entirely.

Your limp hand travels along with his as he waves his arm around emphatically. “In fact. Out. Everyone out. Now. Please.”

His request slices through the nervous air in the room, his words deep and commanding and delivered with an authority that you doubt anyone would dare question. This man must be obeyed, and in the back of your mind you congratulate yourself for your decision to take a chance on hiring this moody ex-soldier with creaky knees. When he needed to he could certainly clear a room. And on top of that, he offers you a whole lot more besides.

Indeed, here he is, going above and beyond, kneeling on said creaky knees for you. Protecting you, and comforting you too.

Your eyes are still closed as the room gradually quietens, until it is so still you could hear a pin drop. Until you can hear the steady rise and fall of Santi’s breath. Until you can hear the delicate wet noise of his lips parting so his tongue can skim his lips. You can hear him swallow.

As you hear the sound of the final remaining person shuffle out, and the door gently click closed behind them, you are finally able to peel open your eyes. You are able finally able to release your bottom lip from the grip of your teeth, an indent having formed where you have bitten down so hard you have threatened to draw blood.

Santi is as still as death as he waits, and as soon as he hears that final click, he is moving. Only then, does he allow his (thin) veneer of professionalism to collapse. He allows the flats of his palms to snake up your thighs, rubbing reassuring shapes into you, and you feel the familiar heat and press of of him through the luxe fabric of your suit trousers.

“Look at me, cariño,” he soothes, in a deep, fond tone, entirely different to those bitten off commands reserved for the rest of your entourage. “It’s just you and me now. Look at me, baby.”

You do. You look into his big brown eyes and you and he could be the only two people in the world, never mind the room. You sniff, and you fumble away a stray tear before settling your palms on top of his.

You slow your breathing and Santi flashes you a small, proud smile. “That’s it, honey. Nice and slow. Just like that.”

Then, he flinches, his head leaning to the side as though he could physically retreat from whatever angry voice is no doubt blaring into his ear. Then, he makes a point of taking the earpiece out altogether, letting it hang over the collar of his white shirt.

He tugs in a huge exhale too, letting go of the tension he held in his body through his concern for you, although his eyes slit flit around your face in residual concern.

“They’ll be mad you did that,” you warn, with a nod to his earpiece.

“Whatever. It’s not my job to get you to the red carpet on time. It’s my job to look after you.”

“Your job? Hmm? That all I am to you?”

He flashes you a lopsided smile as you tease him. “I’m a lucky man. My job happens to be a thing I love doing outside of work too.” You lift your palm to his face, the familiar texture of his stubble beneath your fingers. “Now, honey. No rush. But do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You look away from him then as you realise he won’t let you distract him enough to avoid the true issue at hand, but his hands are still languidly smoothing your thighs, and you know he won’t make you do anything you don’t want to before you’re ready. He might dole out some tough love, eventually, but not until he is sure that you can take it. He lets you fumble until you find the words. “It’s... even the thought of it, Santi. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever done. All those cameras. All those eyes on me, I...”

Santi shushes you, as he hears the resurgent panic creep into your voice, even as your fingertips idly trace over his handsome features, a self-soothing unconscious thing, as he continues to kneel before you.

But while you may be panicked, he’s smiling. Looking up at you earnestly. “You deserve all those eyes on you, hermoso.” You don’t mind at all that when his voice comes out now it’s both fond and a just a little dirty as his own, very attentive eyes sweep over you.

“I don’t know...” You nibble on your lip again.

“Baby. You deserve this night. You’ve worked so hard for this. You’re so talented. And holy shit. You look so fucking hot in this suit I can barely function.” You let out a small, tentative laugh, which Santi seems pleased by, his own eyes creasing at the corners in return. “Besides,” he continues, tone more earnest now, his thick brows raised as he hammers his point home. “I’ll be right there. Just a few steps behind you, okay, mi Principe?”

You take one more deep breath, expelling it slowly and steadily through the “o” of your mouth, and Santi can’t resist your pursed lips a moment longer. Yet, for all his comments about how hot you are, his kiss is not as devouring as you might expect. It is a soft, tender thing, barely skimming your lips, and yet even so it appears to inspire a reverent heat in him, his eyelashes fanned on his cheek as his eyes remain closed a moment longer. As he expels a gust of disbelieving air at how you make him feel from this alone.

“Or,” he proposes, his voice breathy. “We could sack this whole thing off? We could order chilli cheese fries to the room and I can suck you off until you can’t think straight?”

You kiss him again, this time giving him just a hint of tongue, even as you laugh musically into his open, increasingly eager mouth.

“Appealing as that sounds, my love, I probably shouldn’t miss this...” you nod your head towards the door “...lil thing.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Santi concedes with a fond, lopsided smile, his eyes flashing with adoration, until he reluctantly schools himself back to something resembling professionalism. He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, and for his... eagerness to subside, before asking “You ready?”.

You nod. “Ready as I’m gonna get.”

“There he is. That’s my man.” Santi gives your thighs one more squeeze before he stands, and you swear you hear his poor knees creak; and then, he is replacing his ear piece, his face becoming all business as he presses two fingers to his ear. “Kolpakov? We’re ready to move out. Everyone in position?”

He awaits the response before turning back to you, practically gasping as he sees you stood there in all your glory for the first time. His eyes sweep up and down the length of you. He shakes his head incredulously, switching his mic off for a moment more. “Fuck me. You look like a fucking dream.”

“Not so bad yourself,” you respond in a loving, flirtatious tone, dancing your fingertips across his chest as you sweep past him towards the doorway and he turns with you as if in your thrall.

As you prepare, taking another deep breath and gripping the handle, Santi reaches for your arm, delaying you for just another moment. “Santi,” you laugh. “We can do the chilli cheese fries later, I promise.”

But that’s not quite what he has in mind. He looks at you intensely, and he cups your face in his broad palm. “Don’t forget. You deserve those eyes on you. But if you get overwhelmed, know that my eyes are on you. Wherever you go, I’ll be right behind you.”

The sentiment and sincerity with which he says this makes your mouth fall open in shock. Makes your chest constrict with happiness rather than nerves - but you aren’t afforded the opportunity to respond. In the next moments, the door is flung open, and your entourage is flooding you, barking directions and whisking you down the staircase and out on to the red carpet.

You are pulled away from Santi, and you don’t get to be near him again, besides a quick, surreptitious whisper into the shell of your ear as he follows you out the door “we need to talk about your ass in these pants because holy shit” - but that is all you can steal.

True to his word though, wherever you go he is right behind you. He is there with a firm arm to form a protective wall should a photographer come too close, or a fan get too handsy over a barrier. He is standing, stern and formidable to your rear as you provide sound bites to the tv stations forming a line up to the venue (and, trying very hard not to ogle your ass in these pants, probably).

He’s right behind you, designed to fade into the background in every sense. For all his charisma, he’s good at it. Not drawing attention. Even his suit is designed to be non-descript.

But... that’s not where he should be, you realise.

And, when you are almost at the end of the carpet, you stop in your tracks. You hesitate, and you turn around, your gaze instantly finding him in the crowd. He looks concerned, alarmed, as though you may have gotten the jitters again and like you might be about to do a runner.

But that’s not it. That’s not it at all.

In fact, you are more calm and sure than you have been all evening, looking at his befuddled, deer in headlights expression as all the attention suddenly falls on him. He has some big talk and a tough exterior, but the centre of him is soft, and you love that about him.

And so, a cautious smile blooms on your face as you settle firmly on your plan of action, and you walk determinedly in the “wrong” direction, going against the stream of attendees and making a beeline for your love, as he, for once -your man of action- stands frozen in confusion.

Then, when you arrive at him you stop, placing both your hands flat on the lapels of his suit, smoothing them down.

“What are you-?” he begins to ask, but you cut him off.

“Santi, my love. This is ridiculous. I don’t want you behind me. I want you by my side. Where you should be. So, fuck it. Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to this premiere?”

He answers with a smile. With sparkling eyes. With his arms flung around your waist. With the press of his curved lips against yours, and a slip of his supple tongue. “Baby. I’ll always be by your side.” His hands slip a little lower. “Or - you know - sometimes right behind you.” He winks at you. God, you adore this idiot.

So, you wrap your arms around him, guffawing fondly into his neck before kissing him again, more deeply, not caring who’s watching. Your face splits with a beaming smile as you break from the embrace and link your arm into his, proceeding to walk up the carpet again: together this time.

“Fuck me though, honey,” Santi leans over to confide in you as he straightens up his tie, as if suddenly noticing the photographers for the first time now that they are noticing him. “You could have warned me you were going to french me on the red carpet, I would have put on a better suit.”

You laugh warmly as he continues to babble, and you reassure him that he looks perfect.

You know he’s doing his best to mask it, but he’s the nervous one now - you can tell. “Don’t worry, handsome,” you reassure. “Just you and me, remember?”

No-one else in the world.

“Jesus. How do you do this?” he asks, balking at all of the camera flashes going off in his face, his voice choked.

Luckily, Kolpakov - his second in command- figures out what’s happening and takes the cue to intervene, shifting the line back just a little to give the two of you some space. A good job too as you see beads of sweat forming on your love’s brow.

“How do I do this?” you ponder. “Well, I always have you to protect me, right?” You squeeze his arm tenderly. “And I’ll protect you now, my darling.”

This- having him by your side? You have no doubt that this feels right. It is where he has been all along, albeit only in the shadows. In private moments. But tonight, as he encouraged you into the spotlight, you realised how little you cared for hiding. You need him with you.

“Jesus,” Santi chuckles, looking around and trying to take everything in. “The boys are gonna have a fucking field day with this one. I didn’t even tell them we were dating.”

“What the hell, Garcia?!” you chide fondly, mouth open in a shocked “o”, before beginning to chatter and banter away with him as you easily fall into step together. Distracting him from his nerves like he always does for you.

With Santi by your side, you no longer care about all of the other eyes on you. All of the camera flashes. The crowds. Those watching at home.

You’re proud of your achievements. You’re proud of your relationship. And besides, the only eyes on you which you pay any heed to are his. Santiago’s gorgeous brown eyes, which, right now, shine with nothing but pride.

Yours shine right back.

You think he is the one who deserves all eyes on him, tonight.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #writer wednesday #Oscar Isaac #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #male reader #m!reader #mlm

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elmer-kasprzak · 2 years

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☾ (sleep headcanon) , ★ (sad headcanon) , ☆ (happy headcanon) n ☮ (friendship headcanon) for elmer ??

hihi! ty for the ask :) take THREE of elmer hcs >:)

Some Elmer Kasprzak headcanons

I won't be doing sad hcs, as I already did a post with those in it, but here goes!

☾ (sleep headcanon)

Elmer has the exact energy of someone who would sleep with the AC on full blast but with mounds and mounds of blankets. I can't describe why.

He obviously wraps himself up in a fucking cocoon, mainly because a lot of the blankets at the Lodge are literally falling apart. He also does this at home, if only out of habit.

Oh yeah, he'd be hell to share any blankets with. Blanket hog. Mush finds this out the hard way.

He sleeps with Paint a lot! Even when he's at home, Paint will come with him. The two of them are basically inseparable, even when sleeping.

Elmer falls asleep way easy. I literally have no idea how he does it, but he's a mad light sleeper and will fall back asleep after waking up pretty easy.

A lot of times during off days, he'll fall asleep while cuddling with Mush, meanwhile Mush is reading one of the books he definitely got legally. It's not Elmer's fault it's warm there.

☆ (happy headcanon)

Elmer is a very friendly person. He's allowed in basically any borough to sell (minus Brooklyn), although he rarely takes the opportunity to do so. He has his little group in Manhattan.

His favorite season is the very tail end of spring. He really likes how the city looks after it just rained, although he hates actual rain.

Paint will sit on his shoulders or inside his selling bag during the day. Sometimes him and the guys he's selling with will race to sell out, just so one of them can carry Paint back in their selling bags.

Paint was the first and only animal that Kloppman allowed in the Lodge. Elmer considers that a high honor, even if Paint doesn't quite understand what the hell that means.

I like to think Elmer is really good with kids! He's bright and bubbly, and so he will help out littles when they first start selling. He understands what it's like to be lost and alone on your first day selling, and so he wants to make it just a little bit easier for the younger kids that are out selling.

His favorite color is green. Again, it reminds him of spring. He's not really sure why spring is his favorite season (outside of rain), although he's sure it has some deep, philosophical meaning.

He bounces a lot when he gets really excited or happy. It's because he has ADHD (stimming), but he will quite literally bounce up and down when he gets real excited.

☮ (friendship headcanon)

Okay SO I've done a lot of thinking about this one. I've come to the conclusion that his main friends are also his main selling group. We have Mush, Romeo, and Buttons. Occasionally, Jack will join them. Even less occasionally, Racer will join them, but that's only when he can't make the walk across the bridge.

But that quartet is way close. They've been selling together for years. Usually, they go to this one intersection a few blocks over from Jacobi's, and they all take one street corner. It works pretty well, and Paint obviously helps sell papers.

While Jack and Racer may not usually sell with Elmer, he does consider them close friends. They are the only ones outside of Mush that even know his mother exists. Of course, Mush is the only one who's met her, but the fact that Jack and Racer even know about her is a huge thing.

Elmer is super protective over his friends, although he is the epitome of all bark, no bite. He'll chew someone out, but the moment it turns physical he is out of there.

He's basically friends with everyone, okay. His closest friends are his selling buddies, but he is friends with everyone at that lodge.

He also has friends in other boroughs! It's kind of something that just... happened, but that means that a lot of times, he will be used as a messenger to another borough (when Specs isn't available).

And he's completely okay with that! He has friends in the other boroughs that he doesn't get out to see all that often, and so being a backup messenger is fun a lot of the times.

okay!!! i kinda banged this out while being way sleep deprived, so i apologize if it's indecipherable, but i hope you enjoy!!! i love you :)

#elmer kasprzak #newsies #livesies #newsies headcanons #elmer newsies #elmer sagloo #my love!#ask #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #mush meyers

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ladyloveandjustice · 3 years

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Spring 2021 anime overview: Quick Takes

Now for my Spring 2021 anime thoughts! I’ve decided from now on if a season’s like, 20- to-24 episodes I’m just going to wait ‘til it’s done to review it unless I feels super passionately, so though I watched To Your Eternity (it’s good!) and MHA (eh), I’ll comment on them next time. Also, for the record, I watched the first eight eps of Joran: Princess and Snow of Blood but I dropped it because it had clearly crossed the line from entertainingly dumb to boring dumb.

I will probably give Supercub and some other stuff a shot later, this was a stacked season! May give updates on all that later, but this is what I have for now.

ODDTAXI

Quick Summary: A mild mannered middle-aged walrus taxi driver is drawn into a case involving a missing girl, yakuza, Youtube clout-chasers, manzai comedians and idols with big secrets.

It’s rare to walk away from media and be like “that is a singular experience I will definitely never see repeated again” but ODDTAXI is definitely one of those. A tense noir thriller murder mystery starring cartoon animals that spends an entire episode detailing the one (cat)man’s very fall into darkness triggered by addiction to gacha games and an online auction for a novelty eraser? Also there’s a porcupine Yakuza who speaks entirely in rap? Also there’s tons of meandering conversations about stuff like manzai comedy and the struggle to go viral on Twitter?

Admittedly, I had a hard time getting into the first episode, the dry meandering humor not being enough to hold my attention while I was sitting still, but once I watched this while I was working out at the end of the season, I found it an easy binge. A ton of characters with dark secrets or dangerous ambitions, each with their own part to play in a tableau of intersecting events- and it all actually comes together really well.(As for the female characters, it’s a pretty dude driven story, but they do get nuanced characterization and even some good heroic moments from one of them.)

It’s a great example of a carefully planned narrative paying off, with all the twists appropriately seeded and foreshadowed to reward viewers who paid attention. Even when it ended on a perfect “OH SHIT” moment and denied me closure, I couldn’t help but respect it. If you that all sounds interesting to you, definitely check out the first couple episodes and see if you like it- you’re likely to have a memorable, satisfying experience!

Shadows House

Quick Summary: Emilyko is a ‘living doll’ who’s told she was created to act as the ‘face’ of her shadow master, Kate. The shadows and their ‘dolls’ all reside on the mansion and are required to pass a ‘debut’ to prove they’re a good pairing. If they don’t pass, they might be disposed of. And so the mystery of the Shadow mansion grows...

This slice of gothic intrigue was my favorite of the season, tied with ODDTAXI. With an interesting premise, slightly tense undertones and a strong focus on character building and relationships, it kept me hooked the whole way through. And for any squeamish fans put off by the hype about it, don’t worry, while there are some suspenseful elements, I wouldn’t qualify it as horror. I thought the relationship between Kate and Emilyko might end up being a completely sinister one, but it’s thankfully a lot more complex than that and it’s really interesting to follow how both their characters and relationship grow. The focus of the show is, unsurprisingly, on the “dolls” slowly discovering their autonomy and personhood as they struggle under the rigid system imposed on them by the mysterious elders of this weird Victorian mansion. Can they develop a more equitable relationship with their shadow “masters” (who are also shown to suffer under this system)? There’s a lot to dig into there, and the show has the characters develop through learning to understand and appreciate each other, which is pretty heartwarming. Our hero, Emilyko, is the typical plucky ball of sunshine (they even nickname her sunshine), but she’s also shown to be clever in her own off-the-wall way and she bounces off the far more subdued and cynical Kate well, not to mention the other ‘dolls’ she ends up befriending.

What’s more, the show spends plenty of time to developing several other character pairings and combinations, and they all have their own interesting dynamic that makes you want to see more of them. Same-gender bonds are at the forefront of this show, and many of them are ripe for queer readings (I definitely appreciated the healthy helping of ladies carrying ladies), but even outside that it’s nice to see a show where a strong, complex bond between girls is at the forefront. My only real complaints about the show are the anime original ending is noticeably a bit rushed (though it’s not too bad, and leaves room for a season 2) and I wish the animation used the whole “shadow” theme more strikingly (like the opening and endings do)- instead the colors are a bit washed out which makes the shadows blend into the background sometimes. The “debut” arc also drags a bit in places, but it makes up for it by having a lot of good character integration.

I hope to check out the (full color)! manga soon and see more of this quirky, shadowy story. There’s some physical abuse depicted, sad things happening to characters and naturally the whole “oppressive familial system” thing, but otherwise not much I can think of to warn about. I give this one a big rec, especially If you’re a fan of gothic fairytales and stories of self discovery.

Zombie Land Saga Revenge

Quickest summary: In this sequel season, everyone’s favorite zombie idol group must claw their way back into prominence after a disastrous show- the fate of the Saga prefecture LITERALLY depends on it!

This was a fun follow-up to the first season- if you liked the first zombie-girl romp, you’ll probably enjoy this one. In fact, there were a couple areas it improved on- namely, Kotaro failed, ate crow and embarrassed himself a lot more this season, which made him more likeable (as did the fact the girls gained a lot of independence from him). This season also shed more light on what the ‘goal’ of this zombie raising project is and what kind of shit Kotaro got involved with to make this happen, and it’s appropriately off-the-wall and ridiculous. We finally got some backstory for Yugiri too! I wish it had focused on more of her interiority, but she got to be a badass in it, and it was a treat to see this zombie idol show turn into a period piece for a couple episodes (also her song ruled).

Tae also got a cute focus episode and there was a particular SMASHING performance early on! Also That revelation last season that had the potential to turn creepy hasn’t yet, and hopefully never will. The finale was heartwarming with big hints of more drama to come- I’m definitely down for more zombie hijinks!

Vivy: Flourite Eye’s Song

Quickest Summary: A songstress AI named DIVA (nicknamed Vivy) is approached by another AI named Matsumoto, who says he’s from the future and they must work together to prevent AI exterminating all of humankind 100 years from now.

This show is absolutely gorgeous visually with some really nice action scenes, but when it comes to the story my feelings basically amount to a shrug. It’s fine! I guess! Vivy starts out as an interesting layered character- and I guess still is by the end- with her stoic but stubborn determination bouncing off her fast-talking bossy partner Matsumoto well. She never listens to him, which is delightful. The way the show took place over the course of 100 years was an interesting conceit as well. However, it bought up a lot of themes and then sort of... dropped them. For instance, Vivy interprets her mission (PRIME DIRECTIVE if you will) as protecting humans at all costs, no matter how destructive said humans are or what their fate is supposed to be, and is perfectly willing to murder her fellow androids to do this, showing she inherently thinks of androids (herself and her own people!) as less worthy. Which is a little alarming! There’s a very dramatic point in the show where they bring this up as a potential conflict for her character but then it’s sort of...dropped. Pretty much.

Actually, despite the premise, the show doesn’t dip into the “AI rights” as much as you think it would with the main theme being more about Vivy’s search to find her own creativity and discover what it means to ‘pour your heart into something’. Vivy herself doesn’t actually care if she has rights or anything. Which is in some ways fine, because ‘AI as an oppressed class’ has been done to death, but IT’S ALSO KIND OF IN THE PREMISE, so that means that the show just shrugs really hard at a lot of the questions it brings up basically just going “humans and AI should work together probably” and that’s it. There’s a lot that feels underexplored. The antagonists in the show also either have motivations that don’t really make sense or have boring hackneyed motivations. In the finale in particular, it feels like a lot of things happen “just because” and it falls a little flat.

I also have to warn that one of the arcs focus on a robot ‘pairing’ where the dude-coded robots actions toward his partner are straight up awful and rob her of her autonomy, but it’s played like a tragic love story. I suppose you could read it differently too, but it definitely made me go ‘ew’ the story seemed to want me to sympathize with this robo dude,

Overall, I wouldn’t anti-recommend this show, it’s an all right little sci-fic romp (and definitely SUPER pretty). My favorite element was definitely the episodes where Vivy develops an entirely new (an loveable) personality, because it played with the idea of of an AI getting “rebooted” really well and interplay between her two “selves” was done really well. But there are a lot of other parts of the show that just feel...a little underexplored and empty, making me have an ‘eh’ feeling on the show overall. It’s definitely an ambitious project, and while it didn’t quite stick the landing, there’s something to be said for a show that shoots for the stars and falls short over a show that just languishes in mediocrity.

Fruits Basket The Final

Quick summary: The final season of that dramatic drama about that weird family with a zodiac curse and the girl who loves them.

It’s very weird that after not cutting a lot out, they kinda sped through some material for, you know, the finale. I guess they thought they couldn’t stretch this final arc to 26 episodes? Or weren’t cleared for another double cour? However, though there were a couple places that felt awkward, despite being a bit condensed it mostly held together pretty well for a D R A M A T I C and ultimately heartwarming conclusion. I was really disappointed they kept the part where Ritsu cut their hair for the ‘happy ending’, I thought their intro episode not showing them in men’s clothes meant the anime had decided their presentation didn’t need to be “fixed” but WELL I GUESS NOT. That was the only big upset for me though, otherwise the adaptation went about how I expected, sticking to the source material. Furuba has a lot of bumps, from weird age gap stuff to ...gender, but it also has a lot of important feels and great character arcs. It was a gateway shoujo for many and has its important place in animanga history, so I’m glad it finally got a shiny, full adaptation.

#anime overview #spring 2021 anime #shadows house #oddtaxi #zombie land saga #fruits basket #vivy: fluorite eye's song #zombie land saga revenge #fruits basket the final #anime #my reviews #long post

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

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A fluorescent green gaze pierced through him from the rearview mirror. As much as the eye contact sent chills down Dale's spine, he didn't want to look away. Some primal part of his brain was much more comfortable keeping his eyes firmly planted on the predator in the back seat of the police car.

"Why won't he leave?" Dale whispered to his partner, the woman grit her teeth.

"I don't know, but I'm not the idiot who decided to fucking arrest him." spat Whitney.

"I didn't think it would work!" Dale hissed. They were trying to be quiet, but he was certain the ghost boy could hear them clear as day, especially with the quiet of the late night streets. "I was just following protocol. We're not supposed to ignore criminal activity."

"The protocol," Whitney's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as she circled the block for the third time. "Is to not fuck with the ghosts Dale. Especially that one."

She jerked her head roughly to the boy in the back seat, he was looking around the car and humming to himself, he didn't appear to be paying attention, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening.

"Look I just... we need to at least keep up appearances. We can't just let people think we aren't even trying."

"Yes! Yes we can!" Whitney snapped her mouth shut as her volume started to rise with frustration, she glanced nervously into the mirror and took a deep breath before continuing in a low tone. "We aren't paid to deal with this kind of bullshit, we radio it in and let a Fenton or a Guy in White deal with it."

"Okay I get it!" Dale ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I just... I feel so pathetic doing nothing when ghosts are just running around destroying public property-"

"Oh yeah no that's fine Dale that's a great reason to go and put handcuffs on the most powerful ghost in the fucking city." Whitney took the next turn a little too sharply, Dale felt himself lurch sideways, but the boy in the back hardly moved. It wasn't especially surprising given his usual disregard for the laws of physics.

As well as all the other laws that Officer Dale was supposed to be enforcing.

"I told you I didn't think he would actually come willingly." Dale whispered harshly, his voice containing just the barest hint of hysteria. "I just wanted to show him that we aren't total pushovers, I didn't expect it to go this far."

They circled the block once more as Dale checked the rearview mirror again. Phantom was playing with his handcuffs, jiggling the chain and twisting his hands around them. It was almost like he was trying wriggle his way out of them, Dale knew perfectly well that they were just ordinary handcuffs, and he could phase through them at any moment. Phantom had to know that too.

Whitney flicked her eyes between the mirror and the road.

"Asshole," the word was barely audible, Dale would have missed it had he not seen her lips move. "He's just doing this to fuck with us."

"Of course he is." Dale rubbed at his face tiredly. "He's probably got nothing better to do, maybe he'll leave if another ghost shows up?"

"And exactly how long do you expect us to go around in circles waiting for that to happen?" Whitney asked through gritted teeth. "This is getting fucking embarrassing."

"Maybe we should just take him in," Dale sighed in defeat. Whitney took another corner way too hard, jostling him roughly in his seat.

"I am NOT taking Phantom back for processing. They will NEVER let us live this down, and I am NOT becoming the joke of the precinct because YOU decided to be a god damn moron and arrest a fucking ghost."

Another sharp turn and the entrance to the city park flew by their windows again, Dale had lost count how many times they'd circled the block, but somehow he was certain that Phantom hadn't.

The little shit was enjoying this, why couldn't he just sneak into a movie theatre to get his kicks like a normal teenager?

Whitney growled and pulled the car into a complete stop, the wheels screeched and Dale let out a loud WHUFF as the inertia jerked him hard against his seatbelt.

His partner violently wrenched the door open and pulled herself out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her with far more force than was necessary.

Dale followed suit and looked over the roof of the car as Whitney pulled open the back passenger door and whistled sharply, pointing up and out into the sky.

"Go on, get. Ride's over, you've had your fun."

"Awww come oooon," Phantom whined, "I didn't even get to hear you use the siren!"

"Don't care, we're the police, not baby sitters. Go find some ghost cops to bother."

"The ghost cops aren't as fun," Phantom moaned, but he did as he was told and stepped out of the car. "You know, you guys shouldn't swear so much around minors, you're corrupting the youth!"

"I'll corrupt my foot up your ass if you don't get going." said Whitney, flatly. She put her hand out and Phantom effortlessly dropped the cuffs from his wrists and tossed them at her.

He pulled a face at her as she fumbled with the handcuffs, sticking out a very green tongue.

"I saw that young man!" Dale pointed at him from the other side of the car. "Don't let us catch you disrespecting an officer of the law again! Next time you won't get off with just a warning-"

"Dale! For the love of all that is holy shut your damn fool mouth!"

Phantom hopped backwards from the irate woman, his last few steps landing on empty air. He floated gently upwards with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Well this has been fun but I gotta head off, but thanks for the company! We should do it again some time, see you around!" He waved a casual salute and swung around, legs stretching out into a long swirling tail as he sped off into the sky.

Dale felt his knees shaking as he slipped back into the car. Whitney settled into her seat, hands steady as a rock as she belted herself up and started the car.

"That was terrifying." He gasped.

"And yet you still had to keep playing bad cop."

"I'm sorry it just slipped out! He's no different to any of the other punks we deal with around here. A wiseass with no respect for authority." Dale huffed and folded his arms, crossly.

"...He probably wasn't any different, before he died." Whitney said, quietly.

Dale didn't respond, letting the statement sit heavily between them as the car pulled away from the curb.

"I forget that sometimes, you know." said Dale. "This is the first time I've ever seen him up close and he... he really does just look like some kid. How do you think he... how do you think it happened?"

Whitney let out a deep breath as they completed their final lap around the block and headed in toward the city centre.

"I have no idea, and I'm pretty sure that's the kinda thing you can't ask." she paused for a moment, before continuing with a quiet pain in her voice. "He's so young."

"I wonder if his parents know," Dale mused sombrely, "That he's, you know, still around?"

"Who knows."

A car cut them off suddenly at an intersection.

"That was a red light." Dale announced.

The police car's lights flashed as the siren echoed through the empty streets, and Whitney slammed her foot down to catch up with the offending vehicle.

The conversation was over, but neither cop forgot about the incident, and neither could look at their city's hero and menace quite the same. Dale had gotten quite good at seeing ghosts as merely 'creatures', or 'monsters', things that were entirely Strange and Other. Being up close and personal with one had been a much needed reminder of what a ghost truly was.

And that ghost, the one messing around in the back of his car, was a boy. Just a boy. A boy who had a family, a boy who had a life, a boy who had died.

When Dale got home in the early hours of the morning, he hovered by his kids' bedroom, carefully easing the door open to look at their little sleeping faces. Just to make sure they were still there, right where he left them. Still breathing, still alive.

He knew there was a family out there somewhere, parents who had looked through their son's bedroom door and seen only cold, empty sheets.

Dale stepped very carefully over the spilt lego pieces on the floor, and gave his girls both a long, heartfelt kiss on their little heads, before going back to his own room to lay by his sleeping wife's side.

No, no he truly couldn't look at Phantom quite the same way, not anymore.

#danny phantom #lula's fanfics #danny phantom fanfiction

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siswritesyanderes · 3 years

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Hi! I’m curious: if you had to be the obsession of one yandere from each of your favorite fandoms, who would you choose and why?

Oh, that’s such a good question! I hope I don’t forget any fandoms. (Every time a question like this comes up, I forget all of my interests, lol.) I’m going to go ahead and include a lot of fandoms in this post, regardless of how much I like the thing itself. (I’m clarifying this because you said “favorite fandoms” and these aren’t necessarily my favorites, lol.) Boy, here’s hoping I don’t learn anything about myself, answering this question. Okay, in no particular order:

Harry Potter:

Okay, I’m thinking Newt or Tom Riddle. Newt is really good at caretaking, he’s soft-spoken, and I know from Les Mis that Eddie Redmayne is able to sing (which, in my mind, means Newt can and he’d sing lullabies). Meanwhile, Tom is powerful and, pre-Horcruxes, not too bad-tempered. He’s got followers, which is good for many reasons; he’s not sadistic like Bellatrix; on the whole, he’s a fairly balanced yandere with a surprising number of benefits.

Or Fred and George; they’re prodigies at what they do (They’re pretty much inventors); they’d be self-aware and fun as yanderes; and also they’re canonically kind of ruthless. Yeah, I think I’m settling on Fred and George for this one.

Twilight:

By the metric of appearance, Seth or Caius. But if I’m taking everything into consideration, maybe Demetri? His power has great yandere potential that would only backfire on me if I’d already escaped, which I probably wouldn’t manage anyway, since I’m a human. He’s high enough in the Volturi that I’d be safe from most everything, but not one of the main three, which is good because I think being Caius or Marcus’s mate would invite a lot of scrutiny from Aro (and he killed Didyme), and being Aro’s might invite sassiness from Caius; just generally, I wouldn’t want to get in on whatever bond they have unless it was a poly thing where they all cared about me. Also, I’d rather avoid Aro’s power if possible, though I suppose having him be yandere for me would be like empirical evidence that even my entire history of thoughts is attractive, which would boost my ego to an absurd degree. You know what, maybe Aro.

Then there’s also Benjamin, who has a chill personality, awesome power (especially since fire is the thing that kills vampires; being able to control it is like extra immortality on top of the existing immortality), and the innate freedom of not being a part of the Volturi. Yet, if he were to be recruited by the Volturi, you know he’d be as high-ranking as Demetri, if not higher. Again, safety. Demetri, Benjamin, or Aro, on the vampire side. (No Cullens, since they’ve actively provoked the Volturi and I don’t trust their ability to keep me safe. If Cullens were on the table, though, Jasper and Alice.)

Wolf-wise, I feel like Leah would be a really considerate and protective yandere, and since she’s the fastest of the wolves, I think she could get me out of most danger. Maybe Jared, since the only things I know about him are that he has a sense of humor and he can be SUPER manipulative (Like, that “Lee-lee” thing from Breaking Dawn was ruthless.), and that’s a valuable skill in a yandere’s tool belt. But ultimately I guess I would have to choose Jacob, since any of them would be physically unable to disobey him, even under yandere circumstances, so there’s no guarantee they would protect me no matter how much they wanted to. (Also I wouldn’t have to go through the turning process, if I’m with a wolf instead of a vampire.)

Final answer, Aro, Benjamin, or Jacob.

The Hunger Games:

Boy, I would say Snow, because I know he would pull strings for me and give gifts and stuff, but I also feel like he’d be kind of a selfish yandere. Like, he’d be kind when it’s convenient, but he’d ultimately be looking out for his own happiness. I love Finnick, but I feel like yandere traits for him would manifest too selflessly; like, I’d be worried about Finnick, as a yandere. Johanna “There’s no one left I love” Mason would be fiercely protective, but not worryingly selfless. She’d be clingy and spirited and probably beat some people up over me.

Divergent:

Definitely Peter! He stabbed a guy in the eye in canon! He’s got an intersection of creepy and pragmatic going on, kind of like a human version of Jasper from Twilight, but without the racial baggage. I get that a lot of people thirst after Eric, and Eric definitely has more power than Peter, but his personality doesn’t interest me.

Percy Jackson:

Percy or Leo. Powers and personalities are perfect for yandere. Nico and Will, if they’re bi; I’m not caught up on Trials of Apollo, so I’m not sure.

WAIT, maybe Reyna?? The confidence, the metal dogs...Yeah, Reyna is awesome, too.

Descendants:

Harry, Uma, and Gil as a unit. Just all three of them at once. They’re pirates, they’re already so steamy and intense about their relationships in canon (or Harry and Uma are, at least), and they’re all very attractive. If I had to choose one, I think Uma. Or Ben, since he’s a really nice guy with a strong moral compass, at least in the first movie (meaning a yandere interpretation of him would most likely become extreme in his morals, rather than corrupt), and he’s the king.

Detroit Become Human:

(I’m literally only making this a category because I find it unbelievable that any yandere Markus is characterized as, like, a rough and dominant yandere.) Markus was a caretaking android for an old man; he would be very loving, understanding, and supportive. His revolutionary energy is not turned against his loved ones. Nothing in canon suggests he would ever be rough with someone he loves. (Connor, meanwhile, is an android cop who is rough with his friends in canon, but lots of fan works characterize him as soft. Puzzling. Maybe uncomfortable, from a racial standpoint, since Markus is a man of color.)

Also, Ralph is the absolute perfect mix of well-meaning and delusional and intense. Ralph is perfect as a yandere. Why isn’t there more yandere Ralph?? I love Ralph.

And also Jerry, because he’s cheerful and there’s a lot of him. Just a thousand of this one guy, all in love with one person? Yandere gold.

Undertale:

Sans. Or Asgore. Let’s move on. 😅

Legacy of Orïsha:

Roën. Easy. Another pirate, with emotional intelligence and a sense of humor! Self-aware but with a loose moral compass. I love him.

Avatar: The Last Airbender:

Having thought it through, either Jet or Mai; Jet is a charming yet hot-headed rebel, and we’ve already seen what it’s like when he’s like when he takes his ideals to an extreme. He would absolutely flood a town for his loved one, which, now that I’m saying it, shouldn’t be phrased like a desired outcome, but we’re talking yandere here, so it’s fine.

Mai, meanwhile, would seem dry and casual while also doing the most. She would be satisfied with just sitting in silence, which is chill. And given her wealth, she might ‘gilded cage’ me. Then again, she’s not very forthcoming with praise or positivity in general.

Actually, yeah, just Jet.

MCU:

Listen, I really dislike Wanda in canon, but Wanda and Vision would be the best yanderes. Their powers, Wanda’s tendency to not take responsibility for her actions, there’s a lot there. And, like, she’s generally nice to people she cares about (and Vision is a Mjolnir-lifting sweetheart); she’s pretty much exactly right to be a yandere.

Maybe Nebula, since I want to give Nebula a hug and let her win at tic tac toe or something. She would fire the very biggest guns at anyone who made themself a threat to me, but one-on-one she’s so soft and frank and I love her.

(I want to say M’Baku because Winston Duke seems so lovely, but M’Baku the character seems too strict; we’ve never seen him with a loved one.)

Dandelion: Wishes Brought to You:

Jieun, in his good end, or Jisoo, in his bad end. Look, my friend got me into this game in high school; don’t look at me. Jieun is smart, psychic, very chill, and a king. Jisoo is practically the opposite. Both work very well as yanderes.

#male yandere #female yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere dbh #yandere atla #yandere mcu #yandere hp #yandere pjo #yandere hoo #cheritz #danelion wishes brought to you #legacy of orisha #jisoo bad end #jieun good end

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balioc · 4 years

Text

A Taxonomy of Magic

This is a purely and relentlessly thematic/Doylist set of categories.

The question is: What is the magic for, in this universe that was created to have magic?

Or, even better: What is nature of the fantasy that’s on display here?

Because it is, literally, fantasy. It’s pretty much always someone’s secret desire.

(NOTE: “Magic” here is being used to mean “usually actual magic that is coded as such, but also, like, psionics and superhero powers and other kinds of Weird Unnatural Stuff that has been embedded in a fictional world.”)

(NOTE: These categories often commingle and intersect. I am definitely not claiming that the boundaries between them are rigid.)

I. Magic as The Gun That Can Be Wielded Only By Nerds

Notable example: Dungeons & Dragons

Of all the magic-fantasies on offer, I think of this one as being the clearest and most distinctive. It’s a power fantasy, in a very direct sense. Specifically, it’s the fantasy that certain mental abilities or personality traits -- especially “raw intelligence” -- can translate directly into concrete power. Being magical gives you the wherewithal to hold your own in base-level interpersonal dominance struggles.

(D&D wizardry is “as a science nerd, I can use my brainpower to blast you in the face with lightning.” Similarly, sorcery is “as a colorful weirdo, I can use my force of personality to blast you in the face with lightning,” and warlockry is “as a goth/emo kid, I can use my raw power of alienation to blast you in the face with lightning.”)

You see this a lot in media centered on fighting, unsurprisingly, and it tends to focus on the combative applications and the pure destructive/coercive force of magic (even if magic is notionally capable of doing lots of different things). It often presents magic specifically as a parallel alternative to brawn-based fighting power. There’s often an unconscious/reflexive trope that the heights of magic look like “blowing things up real good” / “wizarding war.”

II. Magic as The Numinous Hidden Glory of the World

Notable examples: Harry Potter, The Chronicles of Narnia, H.P. Lovecraft’s Dream Cycle

The point of magic, in this formulation, is that it is special. It is intrinsically wondrous and marvelous. Interacting with it puts you in a heightened-state-of-existence. It is -- ultimately -- a metaphor for The Secret Unnameable Yearnings of Your Soul, the glorious jouissance that always seems just out of reach.

It doesn’t so much matter how the magic actually functions, or even what outcomes it produces. The important thing is what magic is, which is...magical.

This is how you get works that are all about magic but seem entirely disinterested in questions like “what can you achieve with magic?,” “how does the presence of magic change the world?,” etc. One of the major ways, anyway.

The Numinous Hidden Glory fantasy often revolves around an idea of the magic world, the other-place where everything is drenched in jouissance. [Sometimes the magic world is another plane of existence, sometimes it’s a hidden society within the “real world,” doesn’t matter.] The real point of magic, as it’s often presented, is being in that magic world; once you’re there, everything is awesome, even if the actual things you’re seeing and doing are ordinary-seeming or silly. A magic school is worlds better than a regular school, because it’s magic, even if it’s got exactly the same tedium of classes and social drama that you know from the real world.

Fantasies of this kind often feature a lot of lush memorable detail that doesn’t particularly cohere in any way. It all just adds to the magic-ness.

III. Magic as the Atavistic Anti-Civilizational Power

Notable examples: A Song of Ice and Fire, Godzilla

According to the terms of this fantasy, the point of magic is that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense within the logic of civilized human thought, anyway. It is nature and chaos given concrete form; it is the thing that tears away at the systems that we, in our [Promethean nobility / overweening hubris], try to build.

There’s not a baked-in value judgment here. This kind of magic can be presented as good, bad, or some of both. Same with civilization, for that matter.

It’s often presented as Old Myths and Folkways that have More Truth and Power Than Seems Reasonable. Narratively, it often serves as a dramatized version of the failure of episteme, and of the kind of entropic decay that in real life can take centuries to devour empires and ideologies.

This kind of magic is almost always the province of savages, actual inhuman monsters, or (occasionally) the very downtrodden.

(I think it is enormously telling that in A Song of Ice and Fire -- a series that is jammed full of exotic cults and ancient half-forgotten peoples, all of whom have magic that seems to work and beliefs that at least touch on mysterious truths -- only the Westerosi version of High Medieval Catholicism, the religion to which most of the people we see notionally adhere, is actually just a pack of empty lies.)

IV. Magic as an Overstuffed Toybox

Notable examples: Naruto, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

Or, sometimes, we care about what magic actually does. More than that -- sometimes we want to see magic doing really interesting things, and then other magic intersecting with it in ways that are even more interesting.

The fantasy here, in simplest terms, is “magic can achieve any arbitrary cool effect.” There doesn’t tend to be an overarching system that explains how it’s all supposed to come together, or if there is, it tends to be kind of lame and hand-wavey -- a rigorous system of Magic Physics, delineating the limits of the possible, would get in the way of all the cool effects we want to show!

Once again, this shows up a lot in combat-heavy narratives. Less with the genericized D&D-style “magic is a fist that can punch harder than your regular meat fist,” and more with people throwing weird and wacky powers at each other in order to show how those powers can be used creatively to overcome opposition. Sometimes, instead of combat, you get magicians using their cool-effects magic to MacGuyver their way out of problems or even trying to resolve large-scale social problems. Issues of magic usage within the narrative being “fair” or “unfair” or “cheesy” are important here in ways that they generally aren’t elsewhere, since the fantasy on offer comes close to being a game.

(Ratfic often falls into this category.)

V. Magic as Alternate-Universe Science

Notable examples: the Cosmere books

This covers most of what gets called “hard fantasy.” The fantasy on offer is a pretty straightforward one -- “magic has actual rules, you can learn them, and once you’ve learned them you can make predictions and achieve outcomes.” It’s puzzle-y in the way that the previous fantasy was game-y. It’s often a superstimulus for the feeling of learning a system in the way that video game grinding is a superstimulus for the feeling of rewarding labor.

The magic effects on offer tend to be less ridiculous and “broken” than toybox magic, because any logic you can use to achieve a ridiculous effect is going to influence the rest of the magic system, and special cases that aren’t grounded in sufficiently-compelling logic will ruin the fantasy.

Not super common.

VI. Magic as Psychology-Made-Real

Notable examples: Revolutionary Girl Utena, Persona

This kind of magic makes explicit, and diagetic, what is implicit and metatextual in most fantasy settings. The magic is an outgrowth of thought, emotion, and belief. Things have power in the world because they have power in your head. The things that seem real in the deepest darkest parts of your mind are actually real.

This is where you get inner demons manifested as actual demons (servile or hostile or anything in between), swords forged from literal hope, dungeons and labyrinths custom-tailored to reflect someone’s trauma, etc.

The fantasy, of course, is that your inner drama matters.

My personal favorite.

VII. Magic as Pure Window Dressing

Notable examples: later Final Fantasy games, Warhammer 40K

This one is weird; it doesn’t really make sense on its own, only metatextually. I think of its prevalence as an indicator of the extent to which fantasy has become a cultural staple.

The fantasy on offer in these works is that you are in a fantasy world that is filled with fantasy tropes. And that’s it.

Because the important thing here is that the magic doesn’t really do anything at all, or at least, it doesn’t do anything that non-magic can’t do equally well. It doesn’t even serve as an indication that Things are Special, because as presented in-setting, magic isn’t Special. Being a wizard is just a job, like being a baker or a tailor or something -- or, usually, like being a soldier, because the magic on offer is usually a very-simple kind of combat magic. And unlike in D&D, it’s not like magic is used only or chiefly by a particularly noteworthy kind of person. It’s just...there.

The great stories of the world, in these works, don’t tend to feature magic as anything more than a minor element. The point is to reassure the audience that this is the kind of world, the kind of story, that has magic.

-------------------------------------------------

Thoughts? Critiques? Other categories to suggest?

#media analysis

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justmypartner · 3 years

Text

Still Breathing: Chapter 4

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hello all! I hope you are enjoying this story so far! I don't have much to say other than I so appreciate the kind comments I've gotten thus far! I really enjoy the feedback and discord after posting a chapter, so keep it coming - I love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!!

Read on AO3 or below

A glow of sunlight filtering in through her curtains pulled Hailey out of a deep sleep the next morning. As her eyes fluttered open, part of her was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For it to be just another dream that would morph into a nightmare and leave her waking with tacky, sweat-covered skin and an irregular pulse. It took her a moment, but she eventually realized it wasn’t another dream. She was awake, and she had just slept fully through the night, unobstructed by her haunting memories. A naive thought credited it to Jay’s text from the night before, but the cynic in her figured it was just her many nights of restlessness finally catching up with her. Whatever it was, she was glad for that one night of freedom. It wasn’t enough to convince her the nightmares were gone completely, but she was willing to take what she could get.

When she checked the clock on her bedside table, it read 15 minutes before her alarm was due to go off. She climbed out of bed then, figuring she could use the extra time with how much longer getting ready took with one arm still out of commission. Showering was a hassle, doing her hair was nearly impossible, and getting dressed required a specific strategy she hadn’t quite perfected yet. By the time she had gathered the last of her things to stuff into her duffle, it was time to go.

The final thing she did was pull her sidearm from the safe in her bedroom and secure it in the side of the bag. She found it strange to wear her star without her weapon. It left a misplaced feeling in the back of her mind like she was forgetting something, but it was a feeling she knew she’d have to get used to over the next few weeks.

As unexciting as desk duty sounded, she was glad in a way that she’d be able to ease back into things. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but after everything that happened, the thought of going into the field was unsettling. Physically she was feeling 100%, with exception of her arm still being in a sling, but mentally she wasn’t prepared for the field again. She was more than ready to be back at work. She hated being out, leaving the team short-handed after only two weeks of joining them to solve just that, so she was eager to get back to them. She was just glad that the shooting’s effects on her body provided a reason to disguise the mental ones that left her hesitant to get back on the streets.

When she finally made it to work, she took a deep breath before climbing the steps into the district. She wasn’t sure what to expect. She warned the team against any sort of welcome back. At her old district, it was a tradition to greet cops who were injured on the job with a grand welcoming, but she always hated the idea of it. The attention was bad enough, but she always thought it was strange to celebrate someone almost dying for simply doing their job. Immediately as she reached the top of the steps, her shoulders relaxed to see the lobby empty. Not even the ever so illustrious desk sergeant was at her post, so she took the opportunity to sneak upstairs.

She was surprised to be greeted with a vacant bullpen. She wasn’t sure who she was expecting, but she imagined at least someone would have beaten her there. As she moved through the space towards the locker room, a low wince behind the desks stopped her in her tracks. She then heard what sounded like someone falling over, followed by a murmur of suppressed laughter.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” she finally questioned, both amused and muddled by the unsourced noises.

“This is officially the last time I include Ruz in a surprise,” Kim said, shaking her head with an enlivened grin as she and the other two Intelligence members climbed out from behind the desks.

“You stepped on my foot, what’d you expect me to do?” Adam bridled, causing Hailey and the others to let out stifled snickers.

God, did she miss those idiots.

“Sorry, Upton. This was supposed to be a fun little welcome back, but I guess it’s a bit anticlimactic now so uh, here,” Kevin said, extending the cup of coffee in his hand out to her. “Welcome back,” he smiled, his contagious smile enough to get her grinning from ear to ear.

“Thanks, guys,” she said quietly. “You didn’t have to do anything, but I appreciate it, and I’m just glad to be back.”

“We’re glad you’re back,” Kim said, the two guys nodding in agreement. Hailey smiled, dipping her head sheepishly before cutting the sudden silence with a sigh.

“Well, I still need to hit the locker room, but I fully expect a rundown of what I’ve missed while I was gone when I come back,” she told them before turning on her heels and heading down the hall.

As she was putting the last of her things into her locker, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She sat on the bench behind her as she retrieved the phone, tapping the screen to read the message that had just come in. Her face instantly lit up when she saw who it was from.

Happy first day back! Kick ass!

Her fingers tapped out a response quickly.

Kinda hard to do that from a desk, but I’m sure I’ll find a way lol

She settled on it before pocketing the phone and making her way back into the bullpen. The team caught her up on what she’d missed, and she told them about how uneventful her recovery was, leaving out the part where she met a new friend. They dished out all of their details, work-related and non-work-related until Voight eventually showed. He took only a brief moment to check up on Hailey and welcome her back before they dove into the day’s case.

Hailey spent the rest of the day combing through pod footage, making phone calls, and digging up any other information she could to relay back to the team. It wasn’t the most glamorous part of the job, but it kept her busy and it helped her to find her groove again.

By the end of the day, they were unofficially able to close up the case. They still had batches of paperwork to fill out, but other than that it was pretty cut and dry, so Voight sent them home.

As they exited the district, her three fellow officers expressed how happy they were to have her back for the last time that day. It gave her the warmest feeling as she realized she got to work with some of the best people she’d ever met, but it also made her happy to have been so clearly missed by them. Walking out with them she took in every smile and every laugh. It was such a trivial moment, but it was the kind of memory her new outlook on life made her want to cherish.

When she pulled up outside of her place, a car she’d never seen along her street before caught her eye. It was a baby blue, vintage, convertible of some sort. She wasn’t much of a car person, but it was just one of those cars no person could refuse to appreciate. After one last glance at it, she hopped out of her own car and made her way up to her front door. She froze when she saw a friendly figure perched on her small stoop. A confused smile crept across her face as Jay stood, shoving his hands in his pockets as he sauntered towards her.

“Hi?” She greeted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hey, how was your day? Did you kick ass?” he asked casually, now standing only but a few feet in front of her.

“Good, and I guess as best as I could behind a desk… what are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes darting around in confusion.

“In honor of your first day back, we are going to cross something off my list,” he told her. His words coming out slowly, and she noted the way they came out as a statement rather than a question.

“It better not be the one where you jump in the Chicago River,” she challenged, pointing a finger out with her words. He let out a chuckle, his mouth twisting into a sinister smile.

“No…” she muttered, a sudden bout of fear rising in her.

“I’m kidding, come on,” he instructed, brushing past her as he nonchalantly headed out toward the street.

It was only when he stopped at the driver’s side of the car that she realized the connection.

“Wait, that’s yours?” she questioned, a look of disbelief on her face.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he replied, the rise in his voice’s pitch revealing to her that he was bluffing. All it took was one raised brow, and he immediately caved.

“Okay fine, it’s a loaner. I’ve got a lot of friends in high places,” he shrugged, steadying a hand against the top of the door as he jumped over it and into the driver’s seat.

Since they’d met, she’d tried to keep her thoughts about him purely platonic. For the most part, she’d been fairly successful, but there was something about the way he jumped into that seat so smoothly that was so damn hot. That, the green beanie he wore that brought out the forest color of his eyes, and the way he looked so confident in that car had her questioning her feelings for a moment. She stood on the sidewalk looking over at him, slightly lost in a lingering gaze as butterflies danced about in her stomach. It was only when he cleared his throat that she was snapped out of it.

“So, you coming or what?”

“Coming where?”

“It’s item number seven on my list, rent a convertible and drive down Lake Shore late at night,” he smirked, one arm propped against the headrest of the passenger seat and the other draped over the steering wheel.

“Okay, that actually does sound pretty fun. Let me put my bag up,” she told him, lightly jogging to her front door before haphazardly tossing the bag into the dark space and locking up again. As she approached the car, he leaned over and pushed the door open for her, and she slipped into the passenger seat.

“Ready?” he asked, and she confirmed the question with a nod.

When he started the car, the roar of the engine was loud enough to send a judder through her bones. When he sped off down the street, she found herself instinctively clutching at the sides of the car for stability. She was filled with equal parts fear and exhilaration as they raced up and down half-empty streets.

By the time they reached Lake Shore, the sun had already set, but twilight brought out a deep blue tinge that stood out against the city lights. It was like she was seeing the city for the first time. Like she was falling in love with it all over again. That view, with the roar of the engine, wind blowing through her hair, and the 70s roadtrip music he’d put on playing through the old stereo made her feel like she was in a movie. He drove the road until they reached just about the outskirts of the city. He pulled the car off somewhere near Montrose beach and got out, quickly running over to her side to open her door.

“And they say chivalry’s dead,” she teased, masking the way the simple act had her stomach doing flips. He rolled his eyes at her, a slightly embarrassed smile on his face as she stepped out and he pushed the door shut behind her.

“So what are we doing here?” she questioned as he led them closer to the shore of the lake.

“I don’t know. We ran out of road, the lake’s pretty in the moonlight, and after a boring day of desk duty, I feel like it’s not a half-bad way to end the night,” he said simply, sitting down on the ledge by the lake.

As she sat down with him, she quickly realized how much colder it was by the water. The brisk wind brushing against her skin through the open top of the car was one thing, but the coolness of the lakefront breeze was almost intolerable. She suddenly wished she’d thought to grab her jacket from her duffle before they left. As she settled down beside him, she clutched her arms tightly against her chest as shivers jumped through her body. Before she knew it, as if he had read her mind, he shimmied off his jacket and held it out to her. She thanked him, a tone of gratitude and hesitation in her voice as she pulled it on over her shoulders. When she did, she noticed him glancing over at her badge still displayed on her hip. His eyes lingered there before he realized she’d caught him looking and he quickly diverted his eyes, holding back whatever question the object had generated.

“What?” she asked in an attempt to pull it out of him.

“Hm? Nothing,” he shrugged off. She knew it wasn’t nothing, but she decided against pressing him for whatever it was. She knew the job was a touchy subject, and she figured it was best to leave it alone.

“So I’ve been meaning to tell you, and I may sound crazy for this, but part of me feels like your text last night actually worked,” she informed him, fidgeting with a loose pebble she found on the ground beside her.

“What text?” his face contorted as he seemed to comb through his memory from the night before. “Oh wait… no nightmares?”

She shook her head.

“First night without them after more than three straight. Maybe you’ve got some sort of magic touch,” she half-joked, her tight-lipped grin growing across her face.

“I don’t know if I can take credit for that, but that’s good. You deserve that peace,” his voice was soft and low, and she didn’t miss the way his cheek dimpled slightly when he flashed her a small smile.

“So what’d you get into today?” she asked him, tucking one of her legs in and twisting so that she could face him.

“Um let’s see, I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, went to the grocery store, had a therapy session this afternoon, you know, all very exciting things,” he said, counting out each activity on his fingers.

“You go to therapy?” she asked, instantly regretful of the almost judgmental tone she carried as the words left her mouth. She just couldn’t help but be surprised that someone like him, a cop, a veteran, a man would be so open about it. She realized the thought only played into the toxic mentalities surrounding mental health and masculinity that she despised so much, but part of her also wondered if it was her own reluctance to start therapy that made her so staggered by the idea.

“Yeah, for a few years now. Based on your reaction, I’m going to assume you don’t?”

“I’ve done the mandatory sessions with the department shrink after shootings before, but never anything consistent. How’d you get started?” she wasn’t even sure if it was an appropriate question to ask, but she was so intent on knowing more that she didn’t take time to second guess it. Though, she was relieved when his face read an expression of musing rather than one of annoyance.

“There’s a bad take we often absorb as cops — as people really, but even more so as cops. We get injured on the job, we do whatever we need to do to heal, and we jump through whatever hoops we gotta jump through just to get back out there. The problem is there’s such a focus on our physical healing that we neglect what needs to be addressed mentally. I went through my whole life doing that. You get to a point where after so many times of telling people you’re fine, you start to convince yourself that you are,” he inhaled deeply, staring out at the lake briefly before he brought his eyes back to her and continued.

“Thing is, you do that for too long and you start to lose sight of what’s real. I was so against getting help, so against the idea that there was anything wrong with me that I began to just accept the fact that I was suffering. Then one day, that sense of reality I’d lost came back and bit me… hard. After that, I started going to therapy, very reluctantly at first, but eventually, I realized it was saving me. Helping me get to a place where I was healing instead of dealing, and I haven’t turned back from it since,” he finished, tightening his lips together as he peered into her eyes with a look of confidence. Like he knew everything he’d said was exactly what she needed to hear.

“Damn,” she whispered, blankly staring out at the lake as she processed his words. She blinked rapidly to recede the tears that had emerged. She’d spent her entire life, best put in his words, dealing rather than healing. She was no stranger to trauma, in fact, she was far from it, but she was a stranger to properly addressing it. She wasn’t against therapy, she just figured she didn’t need it. That she was doing fine on her own, but that one conversation with him was making her think otherwise.

“Well, maybe I should add therapy to my still breathing list,” she quipped, her best attempt at lightening the mood.

“Not a bad thing to add,” he smirked, his face softening as he propped an arm behind him to lean back against.

“Well, my first thing was kinda lame, so I figure it can only go up from here,” she joked, a mischievous grin spouting across her face. He scoffed, clutching at his chest as he feigned hurt by her words.

They talked for maybe longer than they should’ve, falling into an easy rhythm back and forth as they talked about anything and everything that came to mind. Hailey was the type of person who could talk to any and everyone if she had to, but there was something about talking to him that felt like a routine. Like one that she’d memorized by heart and never wanted to go without. After a while, she realized the time, realized she still hadn’t eaten, and that she had work early the next morning.

“God I didn’t realize how late it was, we should probably head back,” she told him, pushing herself up to stand. He nodded, standing with her as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys.

“Now… I know this was for my list but do you wanna drive back?” he asked, rising to stand with her. He dangled the keys in front of her. Her face brightened immediately, and he couldn’t hold in the puff of laughter that came with it.

“I thought you were never going to ask,” she joked, pulling his jacket tight across her body with her free hand before snatching the keys and making her way over to the driver’s side. As he climbed into the passenger seat, she crossed her good arm around the steering wheel to turn the key, and the engine started with a roar. She revved it a few times, looking over at Jay whose fearful expression had laughter escaping her lips.

“Am I going to regret this?” he asked, but instead of answering she just swiveled the steering wheel to pull off the shoulder, gunning the engine down the presently empty street.

Before long they were back at her place, and she shifted the gear into park before turning off the engine. Driving with one arm was harder than she thought it would be, mainly for the fact that the ignition and gear shift were on the right side and her right arm was still in a sling. Yet, it didn’t stop her from having the time of her life driving such a car. She climbed out after she handed him back the keys, making her way around to lean against the back bumper.

“That was incredible,” she told him, digging in her pocket for her own keys.

“Anyone ever tell you that you drive like a maniac?” he jabbed, causing her to lightly kick at his leg.

“So what else is on that list of yours?” she inquired, noting the way he shadowed over her.

“Hm, I don’t know. I kind of liked surprising you tonight. If I tell you, it may take the fun away when we get around to the next one,” he admitted, a childlike softness in his voice that made it hard for her to be mad at his obscurity. She cut her eyes at him, and she noticed the way his brow furrowed back innocently.

“Are you always this aloof?”

“Only with you.”

She rolled her eyes at him dramatically, shaking her head at his goading.

“Well, thanks for tonight,” she said, pulling the jacket from her shoulders and offering it back to him.

“Next time we’ll do something from your list,” he told her as she pushed herself from the car and made her way up to her front door.

“Sounds like a plan,” she twirled around to tell him, her lips curling up at the thought of another night like that one.

“And Hailey,” he called out, just as she reached the top of the steps.

“Sleep well. No bad dreams,” he uttered, a small smile creeping across his face as his hands found way to his pockets.

It was the last time that night an action of his had caused an unexpected flutter in her stomach. She was embarrassed and somewhat fearful of the way those simple words had her feeling so dippy. Maybe it was the sentiment behind them, the way he’d said it, or the stupid smile on his face when he said it, but she wondered if the feeling that he’d erupted was more than just a fleeting one. She quickly pushed that thought down, dipping her head before hesitantly meeting his eyes once more.

“Goodnight, Jay,” she told him before making her way inside, shutting the door and locking it behind her as if it would somehow protect her from what had just happened.

She had to blame it on her exhaustion and the slight adrenaline rush she got from the night’s events. She’d also never had a friend like him. Someone who always had the perfect thing to say, whose company felt so natural and necessary, who seemed to relate so much to everything she was feeling. It was admiration more than anything, she told herself. He was just her friend, and he’d stay that way. Yet, as much as she tried to convince herself that all of those times that night that suggested differently were just flukes, she ended the night with a looming thought that wondered otherwise.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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yasminbenoit · 3 years

Text

“A Romantic Partner Won’t Complete Me, Because I Was Born Complete”: How Identifying As Asexual & Aromantic Brought Me True Freedom & Happiness | Yasmin Benoit for British Vogue

There is a phase in our lives where everyone seems asexual and almost everyone seems aromantic. It wasn't until puberty kicked in that platonic relationships seemed to take a backseat. My peers stopped wanting to play together and started wanting to 'date' each other. That was when I started to realise that there was something different about me. I didn’t seem to be experiencing the same urges as those I was around. I chose to go to an all girls school in the hopes that – in the absence of boys – everyone would stop caring about sex and dating. It actually had the opposite effect. There was a sense of deprivation in the air and the heightened desire to project their sexuality onto anything and everything.

Therefore, my lack of interest became even more obvious, and it became a not-so-fun game to work out the source of what should be troubling me, but hadn’t been until that point. Having a sexual orientation isn’t just natural, it’s essential. It’s part of being a fully-functional human being. And to be romantically love and be loved by another is the ultimate goal. It’s part of being normal, which made me both abnormal and puzzling. When your asexual, people think there’s something wrong with your body. When you’re aromantic, they think there’s something wrong with your soul. Even for a teenage girl who internalised all of Disney Channel’s “be yourself” messages, it’s never nice to have people publicly debate your supposed physical and psychological flaws.

My nickname in school was “hollow and emotionless.” I was a joker with a decent amount of friends, but I was lacking something crucial, the kind of love that really mattered and the kind of lust that made life exciting...so I was practically Lord Voldemort with braids. I sat through the regular DIY sexuality tests, having my peers show me graphic sexual imagery, have very sexual conversations in my presence, and ask me inappropriately intimate questions to gauge how far gone I truly was. These tests lead to the development of theories, most centred around me having some kind of mental problem. After a while, you start to wonder if everyone knows something you don’t.

When they said that I must have been molested as a child and “broken” by the trauma, I wondered if I had somehow forgotten about sexual abuse that actually hadn’t happened. I looked at some of my own relatives with suspicion, the same people who would later ask me if I didn’t experience sexual attraction because I was a pedophile. It was suggested that I was “suffering” from my “issues” because I was socially anxious and insecure. The suggestion that my ‘issue’ was pathological stayed with me for a long time, but not as much as the widely accepted theory that I was mentally slow. Unfortunately, that one stuck. I was referred to as “stupid” and I started to believe that was the case. It would impact my experience in education for the next eight years, long after I realised that there was a word for what I was.

Asexual.

I first heard the word during one of the near-daily sexuality tests that I was subjected to. I was asked if I was gay, to which I said that I wasn’t interested in anybody like that – men or women. At fifteen, I was asked, “Maybe you’re asexual or something?” but it wasn’t quite a lightbulb moment. How could it be when I had never heard the word outside of biology class? After an evening of Google searching, I realised that there were many people with my exact same experience, complete strangers whose stories sounded so strangely similar to mine. I also stumbled across the word ‘aromantic,’ but at the time, I didn’t understand the need for it. "Wouldn't all asexual people be aromantic? A romantic relationship without sex is just friendship with rules,” I thought.

Either way, my discoveries showed me that I wasn’t alone, but that only half helpful. I now had an identity that no one had heard of or understood. Most didn’t believe that being asexual or aromantic was a real thing, and I doubted it to. I had been taught to after years of armchair pathologisation. If asexuality was real, why did no one tell you that being sexually attracted to nobody was an option? What if it was just an internet identity made up to comfort people with all of the issues that had been attributed to me? I didn’t have to go far down the rabbit hole to realise that asexuality, like many non-heteronormative identities, had been medicalised. What I had experienced as just the tip of the iceberg. As someone who hadn’t been prescribed drugs I didn’t need or subjected to unnecessary hormone tests, I was one of the lucky ones.

My activism would be my gateway to the community. Despite being the ugly friend at school, I ended up becoming a model while in university. I decided to use the platform I had gained through my career to raise awareness for asexuality and aromanticism. It gave me the opportunity to encounter a range of asexual and aromantic offline, it was then that I learned the significance of having an aromantic identity. There are many asexual people who still feel romantic attraction, as well as aromantic people who still feel sexual attraction. They have their own range of experiences, their own culture, their own flag, and like the asexual community, I was relieved to see that they are just normal people. These intersecting communities are not stereotypes. They weren’t just thirteen year old, pink haired kids making up identities on Tumblr to feel special. They were parents, lawyers, academics, husbands, girlfriends, artists, black, white, young, old, with differing feelings towards the many complex elements of sexuality and intimacy. Most importantly, they were happy.

I am proud to be part of both, and I know that while being asexual and aromantic, I am a complete person and I can live a perfectly fulfilling life. Since meeting members of my communities, I’ve become more open about my identities in real life, and a reaction I’m often met with is sympathy. “You must feel like you’re missing out,” “I can’t imagine being like that,” “It must be hard for your family,” “Do you worry no one will want you?” “How do you handle being so lonely?” “You’re so brave and strong,” “What will you do with your life now?” Even in 2021, a woman who isn’t romantically loved or sexually desired by their “special someone” is perceived as being afflicted with some kind of life-limiting condition.

Asexuality doesn't make undesirable or unable to desire others. It is a unique experience of sexuality, not a deprivation from it. Even if it was, there is so much more to life than what turns us on and what we do about it. Romantic love is just one form of love, neither superior nor inferior to any other. Being aromantic doesn't mean that you can't love or be loved, it does not mean you are void of other emotions or capabilities. I am not lonely with my friends, family, co-workers and supporters. I feel confident not when someone wants to date me but when I meet my goals and form worthwhile connections with others. My success isn't determined by whether someone will want to marry me someday. What we want out of life is our decision alone, our sources of happiness should not be defined by our ever-changing, culturally relative social standards. The love of a romantic partner won't complete me because I was born complete. Feeling sexual attraction to others won't liberate me because my liberation is not dependent on other people.

Valentine's Day is on the horizon. It's an occasion that amps up the focus on (and the pressure to achieve) a very specific type of love and sexual expression, one that is actually alienating for people inside and outside of the asexual community. During a pandemic where many relationships have been strained, tested, formed or distanced, it's important to keep the diversity of romantic and sexual feelings in mind. Many expect me to feel annoyed or lonely during this time of year, but I actually feel empowered and excited by the way sex, romance and love are discussed more deeply around this time. These conversations are constantly expanding to become more inclusive for everyone, and that's what we need to see all year round.

https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/asexuality-and-aromanticism

#yasmin benoit #valentines day #british vogue #asexuality #aromantic #aromanticism #aroace #asexual #this is what asexual looks like #thisiswhatasexuallookslike

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saber-of-dreams · 3 years

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Lamentis - An Analysis

If we’re being honest here, there’s probably enough material to look at the entire episode in extensive detail, but that would take forever and I’ve got work tomorrow. Funny story - I had originally put “A Brief Analysis” in the title...then I realized it wasn’t actually brief anymore. 😀

So for now, I wanted to do a quick analysis of the scenes between Loki and Sylvie once they make it onto the train, because this is where the whole dynamic between them shifts.

It’s interesting that we start out talking about Frigga - about family. Loki’s biggest soft spot. Especially now that he’s seen what happens to him in his original timeline, and now that he understands that his family did in fact love him.

And we see how having them - Frigga, in particular, has affected Loki’s development. Not just his skill in magic, but his true nature. He becomes noticeably softer, gentler, when he talks about his adopted mother. Whatever the circumstances, he truly loved her. And although this Loki never made it to that point where he sent her to her death, he still knows that he would have done it. And he still feels that regret. This is also echoed in the first episode when he reads about the destruction of Asgard. Family is family, regardless of your blood.

We also figure out Sylvie pretty quickly here too. We see that she is abysmally lonely. Jumpy. Untrusting. And then we find out that she never really knew her family, but that they had the decency to tell her she was adopted and allow her to process that information positively as a child. It’s an interesting parallel for them both - Loki who grew up with the family, but didn’t know he was adopted, and Sylve who grew up knowing she was adopted, but lost her family so early. Equal but opposite.

This is all perfectly encapsulated in that moment where Loki does the mini fireworks for her. It’s a genuine gesture meant to do nothing but make her smile, and pull her out of the dark place she seems to have gone. And it works.

And then he follows it up with a genuine question about her own powers. And you can hear the amazement, the respect, in his voice when she explains that she taught herself.

We then move almost directly into the subject of love. And again, we see the juxtaposition of their two lives. Loki having relationships/lovers but no real depth and Sylvie having no real relationships at all, possibly only physical experience - the non-attached variety (in case that wasn’t obvious from the dialogue).

The key piece of dialogue here? Loki saying “Nothing ever...” and Sylvie supplying the word to finish the thought - “real.”

Love is kind of like a recipe. You need a few key ingredients, in just the right measure added just the right way to create something truly spectacular.

See here’s the thing - it is so much harder to see someone as an enemy, when you know them. Maybe you don’t know everything. But you know enough. You understand. Ingredient one - compassion/understanding. Again, we see that here. You have to know someone. And that requires honest engagement. No masks. No lies. Just blatant, heart-wrenching truth. Family. Love.

You also need respect. Genuine, un-assuming, respect for another person. For their abilities/skills/personality traits - doesn’t matter. But if you don’t respect them - you don’t love them. Now obviously it takes a while to develop true respect for someone, but again, this scene is the start of that for them.

Loki is impressed by Sylvie’s ability to teach herself magic, and Sylvie is impressed by Loki’s obvious skill with illusion. And given the multiple fights the two have had, I would imagine they see each other as competent fighters. Not to mention their various plans to get them to this stage working out/working together.

Okay. I’m going to step away from the recipe we’re crafting here for a moment so I can talk about The Song - part deux (I did a brief analysis on that yesterday). But instead of analyzing the content of the song this time, I want to analyze the moments around it.

Now, Sylvie wakes up in the middle of it, so I sincerely doubt that Loki started singing it with any deliberate attempt to serenade her - but - when she wakes up? And he notices? He immediately turns to her - and sings the true centerpiece of the song (the adventurer/warrior trying to find his way back to the maiden who waits for him) directly at her. Literally. He turns his body to face her directly. He sings to her. And you know, literally dedicates the song to her when he’s done.

You know that bubbly, excited feeling you get, when you start crushing on someone? That joy that just kinda...makes everything a little brighter? That’s Loki here - aided by quite a bit of alcohol. He has dropped his walls, and is trying to let Sylvie in. He has been nothing but honest with her since they got on the train, and he’s starting to develop real feelings for her. I think their conversation really made him see that - not that he actually consciously understands that (that doesn’t happen until next episode when Mobius has to actually spell it out for him).

Sylvie? She thinks he’s an idiot. Being the center of attention like that? Actively seeking out that attention? Completely foreign to her. And, as she points out, someone noticed him and goes to tip off the real guards. But the other thing here is - this dynamic also foreshadows episode 6 - Loki is focused on Sylvie, and on helping others (i.e. when he finds out the TVA agents are all varients too). Sylvie is focused on her mission to the exclusion of all else - regardless of the feelings that she too may be developing for him. Interestingly, I noticed a super tiny smile on Sylvie’s face when Loki said “To Sylvie, everybody!”

Now, Loki’s lines about love being a dagger are very interesting. Not only is it a great way to see how he perceives the emotion, but it’s also a really nice metaphor for the two of them.

Love is a dagger.

It’s a weapon.

To be wielded.

Far away - or up close

You can see yourself in it.

It’s beautiful.

Until it makes you bleed.

Okay. Back to our recipe.

You need an intersection point - where two opposing people with two opposing ideals meet in the middle. But. That intersection? It has to be mutual and it has to be consensual. You have to be willing to meet someone else half way - to attempt to see things from their perspective, before you step forward.

You cannot force someone to see past their own blindness.

Loki and Sylvie take that next step in a few parts - and sorry folks, but I’m going to pick this up in a future post. I just realized how late it is and I do need to be semi-functional for work tomorrow.

Until next time. 😉

#loki #loki mcu #loki laufeyson #sylvie #loki tv series #sylvie x loki #sylki #sylkie #lamentis #loki episode 3

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