#… it’s weird knowing to the core of my being that I care about that family so much and the few times I’ve seen them I’m so excited and then

[trash-bin-ary]

… how does my mind decide what is too much to post on here like I deleted one about not having a mental map of my elementary school at all and not remembering big parts of it,,, oh, siffrin moment it was me admitting I struggled to remember the friends/people I hung out with often I had then. That’s what I decided was too far but now that I’ve worked through that and joked about it it’s chill to say, god damnit that one post isn’t the first post again

[fairuzfan]

This post is for the anon who sent me that video asking me to debunk it's claims so they can be better equipped against accusations of antisemitism.

Sorry, I won't post the video since I refuse to have that man on my blog but I can give you common Zionist talking points and the illogicality behind it.

To preface: most of the questions Zionists will ask you are a trap, and will make you fall into a "rabbit hole" (as I was once told when I was younger), as we try to apply their reasoning. My advice is to ALWAYS center the humanity of Palestinians. For example, when a Zionist says:

"Don't Jews deserve a homeland to be safe?"

It fundamentally ignores the core issue: Palestinians are being raped, murdered, and expelled from their homes so that the establishment of this so called "homeland" may exist. When people ask this to you, I personally advise saying something like:

Why must Palestinians suffer for the establishment of this homeland?

Always recenter to the issue at hand—the inhumane removal and treatment of Palestinians.

"Palestine belongs to the Jews and Not Muslims"

The whole premise of this claim is flawed—there is a weird tendency to equate Arab/Palestinian=Muslim when it just is like. Completely untrue. There are Palestinian Christians, Bethlehem is famously a Christian city, who have been there for centuries. There are Palestinian Jews, who have been there for centuries. There are Palestinian Muslims, who have been there for centuries. My grandpa told me stories of how he would turn on lamps for his Jewish neighbors in Al-Khalil (or Hebron) during Shabbat.

To claim that Palestine is EITHER Islamic or Jewish doesn't make any sense and completely neglects the fact that dissemination of culture has occurred for centuries, as well as the intermingling of people throughout generations. To somehow assert that for some reason, Jews and Muslims did not have ANYTHING to do with each other—did not create together, did not build families together, did not build culture together, all while being PALESTINIAN—is incredibly racist and nonsensical. "Palestinian" is not a religious identity—it's a cultural and ethnic one.

Also, it does not negate the core issue—Palestinians are being killed, removed, and tortured so that others can live on that land.

"Well what about [something about partitioning land]?"

Honestly like, who cares about the partitioning throughout the 1900 and early 2000s. Sorry, I'm not going to list the whole "partitioning" history nonsense. The whole reason "Israel" exists is because of a Mass Exodus, murder, and rape of Palestinians. Everything after that is rendered obsolete.

"Well, I heard Palestinians allied with Hitler"

I don't know how to tell you this but Palestine was under British Control. No they didn't.

"Israel withdrew from the Gaza and left them to themselves and they put Hammas in charge"

Oh yeah, Israel totally left Gaza, that's why Gazans' water, electricity, internet, and food is completely controlled by Israel (this is sarcasm, Israel still controls basic life in Gaza).

Go back to centering the idea that no human deserves to be shoved into an open-air prison, starved, and controlled. Did you know that the Zionist Entity controls the amount of water Gazans receive, as well as counting their calories to ensure they don't have enough energy on a day to day basis?

"I heard Israel asked Arabs to stay"

Show them these papers and videos when they say this:

If you can't show them these videos, check in the next point what to say.

"Well the Palestinians left of their own will in 1948"

Palestinians in 1948 didn't "leave." They had heard of how the Zionist Entity was slaughtering Palestinians en masse. Women especially heard stories of rape and sexual violence. They fled from *violence*. Again, from an earlier post, that this was a calculated effort on the Zionist Entity's part to try and get them to "leave" on their own and "abandon" their houses so that they can come in and say "hey, they left on their own so, we can come in and take their houses now."

Anyways, the idea that once you leave your house you can't ever come back to it is incredibly odd to me as an argument on Zionists' part. Like if you leave your house right now to go to the grocery store and you come back and see someone in your house and they're like "sorry dude, this is my house now, you left so that means you can't come back," you'd be like, "what the hell!" It would be even weirder if everyone agreed with the guy who took your house, which is what happened to Palestinians.

In Al-Khalil, or Hebron, Palestinians always have to have someone stay in their house or else a Settler will come in and take it from them. So it still goes on today as well.

This is not a point, but when that one person in the video said "Arabs lived under Israeli rule" and showed a clip of a bustling city with mountains, I'm pretty sure that was Amman, Jordan, not Palestine lol. Those buildings in the mountains look like how downtown Amman builds the residential areas. Could be wrong tho.

"There are no Jews living under Palestinian rule in Palestine"

What is this, some sort of gotcha argument? What are they trying to prove, the racist (obviously false) notion that Palestinians hate Jews as a whole? How do they know no Palestinian Jew lives in Gaza? Also, Settlers in Palestinian Territory exist??? I had never heard this claim before, its incredibly stupid lol. You're automatically a citizen of "Israel" if you're Jewish, whether or not you live in or outside of Palestinian Territories. So of course technically they don't live under Palestinian rule, they're granted full rights as an "Israeli" citizen automatically!

Go back to talking about the inhumane treatment of Palestinians, I wouldn't bring up the above counterpoint unless they really won't let it go since the main point is mistreatment.

"Why are Christians supporting Israel then, if it's a secular issue rather than a religious one?"

Well actually for a couple reasons:

Oil interests and regional control of goods (White People Supporting White People).

Weird fundamentalist ideology where they want to enact the second coming of Christ.

And finally because they are racist and don't think Arab Christians deserve to live. They literally bombed a 1500+ year church the other day. Why would (White) Christians cosign that.

Anyways, its a stupid argument again, because it forgets the core issue of Palestinians dying and being displaced.

In summary, always go back to the point of centering the Palestinians being displaced, tortured, and murdered, no matter the argument a Zionist gives you.

[colourstreakgryffin]

I saw you're taking Hazbin hotel requests so I thought I'd shoot my shot! So reader is a young boy who also died around Alastor's time(Early 1930s) . He's so confused and overwhelmed by how fast everything is progressing. So when he hears Alastor humming/singing a song from the 1930s he feels a sense of comfort and familiarity. Bonus if it also happens to be their favorite song! Take your time and you're amazing!

Oooh! Fourth Alastor request and I am having such a great time with this! This man is so fun to write for! After I finish here, I am gonna go cook some Jambalaya then pop it into my pentagram and summon Al so he can cook me!

Alastor- Night & Day

Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom…

when the jungle shadows fall

like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock

You don’t recognise anywhere you are… this place. It’s hot, dark, dangy and uncomfortable. There’s nothing here resembling Earth and it’s shaking you to your core. Not having the strength nor confidence to move anymore from the alleyway you were just dropped into upon arriving here from the pentagram in the dark sky. Everyone is too much for your young mind… well. Other than that best, those lyrics and that voice

As it stands against the wall

Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops

When the summer shower is through

So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you

That song is a symbol of comfort for you. Night & Day by Cole Porter. Something your mother use to sing to you every night before bed, the sound of pretty rain hitting your open window as that beautiful sweet woman would sing over and over again, all without it growing repetitive, until you fell asleep. Having wonderful dreams all the time

Even though you’re scared out of your mind, you begin to walk out to the streets. Packed to the brim with all kinds of weird-shaped adults but you avoid most of the them, weaving through this thick crowd to find the source of the soothing lullaby of your whole life and the voice singing it. It sounds dapper, transatlantic, if not an old radio. Is it coming from a radio?

Night and day, you are the one

Only you beneath the moon or under the sun

Whether near to me, or far

It's no matter, darling, where you are

I think of you

It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Running around to find where that wonderful singing is coming from and it feels like the person is constantly teleporting, no adult should be this frustrating to find. Or, you’re just too overwhelmed from being dropped into literal Hell to even realise your coordination skills are as dropping as you did. Your mind is racing to come to terms with what’s going on

This isn’t New Orleans at all… and not a single trace of your parents around. Are you alone? No. No. You don’t want to be alone, you’re too young to be alone. Is everybody here too evil to care about a literal child Sinner being stuck on his own and having to fend for himself in ways he doesn’t know how to…

By all the unholy gods. Somebody help

Day and night, night and day, why is it so

That this longing for you follows wherever I go

In the roaring traffic's boom

In the silence of my lonely room

I think of you

The loud noises of talking, of the wall of built-in weird flat devices screeching and echoing, the patter of footsteps. It makes you want to hide away and sleep to try shake off all the distress and overwhelming feelings you are being tormented with but that song is way too recognisable and comforting for you to ignore so you just keep pursuing it

Maybe, it’ll be pointless and the singing source will be from a Radio of your year but it almost feels like the song is organic and from a person. That means there is an adult of your time here. A man from the 1930s, Hell, he may be somebody of your family! That’d be wonderful and your hopes are high that when you do find the source, it’s somebody you’ll get to embrace and talk to

Day and night, night and day

Under the hide of me

There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me

And this torment won't be through

Until you let me spend my life spreading love

A flash of bright red crossed your eyes when you finally had managed to shakily but stubbornly and determined, pasted through the big careless and if not almost hypnotised by the running TVs crowd, and continued down the road in half sprints. Following a array of melodically humming, recreating the beat and rhythm of the song as it seems the source is quite invested in such a song

It felt like forever following a mere sound across the city’s streets but there he is. The source of the singing, he’s so close that you can finally reach a arm out and take his hand to catch his attention

Day and night, night and day—

The man instantly mutes his singing. He is tall, in a nice fancy coat with long hems at the bottoms, with a pair of what seemed to be tall deer ears on the top of his head and his pale face branded with a permanent toothy grin, he looked both menacing but yet friendly. Turning around to face the nine-year-old Sinner running around the Pride Ring’s own Pentagram City’s streets to chase the source of a song of familiarity and now has chased and caught his hand, Alastor reacted rather friendly and understanding to be presented with a child of his own era

Leaning down to be kneel before this young confused on-the-verge-of-crying boy, the Radio Demon says smooth and curious with that same radio effect almost overlapping his charming transatlantic accent, placing his free hand on your little shoulder

Something about Alastor reminded you of a popular figure from New Orleans you’ve met before

“Greetings there, young man… tell me, where are your parents?”

[yumeka-sxf]

An analysis on Anya (an Anya-lysis!)

As promised in my Twiyor season 1 wrap up post, it's time for me to give Anya time in the analysis spotlight – an "Anya-lysis" if you will! (yes, I've been waiting to make that pun!)

*I apologize in advance for the length of this post. I felt that splitting it into two would have hindered the flow of the analysis, so I kept it as one long post. But I promise it's not as long as it seems...the high number of images make it seem longer!*

Before I get into my analysis, I wanted to preface this post with a fantastic quote from @incomingalbatross, who perfectly describes the unique role Anya has in the series.

"Realizing that Spy X Family really is The Anya Show to me, and not just because "oh look, cute baby child" but because Anya is the center of the story. She has so many secrets resting on those tiny shoulders. She is juggling so many agendas. She's the one who knows everything and her choices drive the plot—she chose Twilight, she chose Yor, she chose Bond—and even when you look at the other characters and their relationships she IS the star they orbit around! Twilight and Yor's relationship is built on their shared care for Anya! And more than that, at the core of it all, Anya's goals are the ones we're invested in.

The center of this story isn't the superspy trying to do his job, or the assassin trying to do hers. It's the little girl who said "FAMILY" and pulled the building-blocks of one close around her with all her tiny strength, and everyone else in this story keeps being moved and changed and redirected by the force of Anya's attachments to her family.

And at the same time she is SO SMALL"

While Twilight may be the protagonist, and Yor the deuteragonist, Anya is definitely the main character in Spy x Family. Not only would there be no "family" without her bringing Twilight and Yor together, but her status as the main character is quite unique among shonen series, or even media in general.

Typically in stories where a little kid (like, below the age of 10) is the main character, either the majority of other major characters are also little kids, or the kid's main purpose is to be a cute comic-relief foil for the adults. But while there are kids Anya's age in SxF, the other important characters in the plot, namely Twilight and Yor, are not. So rather than the typical scenario of the main kid character constantly being surrounded by and working off their fellow kid characters, Anya is more often interacting with her adult parents. And it's not just for cutesy moments and comic relief – the true heart of SxF is about a fake family that could any minute be destroyed, with only little Anya being aware of this grim reality and doing everything she can to keep things together...all without the ability to be truthful with anyone, not with the adults or her fellow kids. While her parents are each secretly fighting for their own vision of world peace, Anya is too…the "world peace" of the family she doesn't want to lose. It really is a one-of-a-kind scenario for a little kid character.

But having such a special main character role doesn't necessitate a well-written character. But in Anya's case, she definitely is. In fact, I think she's the most well-written little kid character I've ever seen.

Too often in media little kids are portrayed as being overly cutesy, overly bratty/whiny, and/or act much older than they should. A key factor in making a little kid character believable is that you can't just make them cute and/or emotionally immature...they have to also be weird. Anyone who's spent time with little kids knows all the weird stuff they say and do because of their less restricted child brains and ignorance about the world. A good example of this is Lilo from Lilo and Stitch (another well-portrayed kid character). The movie does a good job showing all the weird habits Lilo has, like the bizarre origins of her favorite doll, the freaky voodoo stuff she does to the local bullies, and how she totally buys the fact that Stitch is a dog. Likewise, Anya has tons of little endearing weirdnesses, starting with her wanting a spy dad and assassin mom simply because she thinks it's "cool," to the funny lingo she develops like "ooting" (odekeke) and "ohayou-masu" ("happy morning," a.k.a, an adorably incorrect way of saying "good morning"), to thinking it's acceptable to give George a leaf as a parting gift (then wanting it back later), to her comical remarks whenever she thinks Loid and Yor are being "flirty."

Another realistic aspect of Anya's character is the fact that she's not super-smiley and overly cheerful/bubbly like many other main character kids. Not that she doesn't smile and can't be cheerful, but her default expression is a look of uncertainty or wide-eyed cluelessness, which makes sense considering her upbringing (I'm talking about her default expression in canon, not in merch or other marketing as characters tend to always smile in these even if that's not their usual expression – just look at Yuri's merch!) Most of the time when other characters are talking, she looks perplexed, like she isn't sure what's going on but she's really trying to learn/understand.

These expressions make more sense to me than a child who smiles all the time, because she's at an age where she still doesn't understand the right emotions to feel at the right time. A fantastic example of this is when she punches Damian – her face is totally blank! No anger, no fear, no embarrassment...because she still hasn't learned the proper emotions to feel in a situation like this.

All she knew was what Yor told her and that she was bothered by Damian's attitude. In fact, the iconic smug smile that she shows in that scene is the result of her not knowing how to properly react when faced with bullying (cry, get angry, etc).

Similarly, she has a very bored expression when all the kids are upset about George's plight, as if she doesn't really get what all the to-do is about. This also creates good contrast to how the other Eden kids from their rich families were probably forced to grow up fast, and thus act more like 8-10-year olds than the 6-year olds they're supposed to be. Meanwhile Anya, who's supposedly younger than them, stands out with her more childlike mannerisms.

This all makes sense not just because she's still a little kid, but because her view of emotions has been skewed by the fact that she can read people's minds. So she has to not only learn the socially proper way to react to people's actions and words, but also when she should, or should not, react to what's on their mind. I believe this is why she has such a wide variety of expressions compared to the other characters – her mind reading has forced her to experience way more emotions at such an impressionable age, though not always with enough context and guidance to identify when they're socially acceptable to express.

There are way too many examples of Anya's incredible range of expressions, so I'll just have to pick a few!

Put all this together – her childlike reactions to situations, but with a twist because she can read minds, plus her endless array of comical faces, and you have one of the funniest characters I've ever seen.

Because Anya has such a wide variety of expressions, and her default expression is that of uncertainty, there's a lot more meaning when she does smile. The shining smile she has when Loid praises her for getting a stella, when she plays with Bond for the first time, and when she meets up with Becky after their shopping trip, have a lot more significance because that's not an emotion she expresses all the time. Since happy/cheerful isn't her default mood, the emotional impact of scenes where she does smile is all the more stronger.

Likewise, considering her age, Anya isn't much of a crier either. Having a kid character burst into tears and throw temper tantrums is common, but the amount of notable times Anya has exhibited this behavior is relatively few. She did have a tantrum early on when Loid stopped her from going into his room and when she demanded that Bond be her dog…but those are the only notable cases in my opinion. She has shed tears here and there, but again, not a significant number of times. Similar to the scenes where she smiles, when she does cry (in a non-comical way), like when she's reminded about her mother at the Eden interview or when she's finally reunited with Yor after the bus hijacking, it has a lot more meaning.

Another common trait for little kid characters is that they're usually a representation of total purity and innocence. While Anya doesn't have the same dark ulterior motives and immoral occupations that the adults have, she's not shown to be a complete angel either. Even though good intentions are what drive her, she can be a manipulator, mischievous, and even cocky at times, like when she insists on being called' "Starlight Anya" after getting her first stella, when she was being overly competitive with Damian after the bus hijacking, when she was joking around on the bus after finding out the bombs were fake, and when she almost attacked Bond after he chewed up Penguinman. But all of these examples only serve to make her a more fleshed out character as opposed to just being the cutesy, happy series mascot all time.

Obviously because of her mind reading powers, she manipulates the adults around her all the time, but again, there's never any malice involved…it's clearly the result of a little kid doing everything in her power to keep the happy family she's created. And due to her mind reading ability, she's learned to be much more proactive than reactive – she knows what people are going to do before they do it, and what their intentions are without them saying it. This has allowed her to become resourceful way beyond her years, which has led to her saving the lives of both Twilight and Yor on more than one occasion.

One emotion Anya does have an abundance of is empathy. Typically children don't start to develop empathy – the ability to understand and relate to the intentions and feelings of others – until a bit past Anya's age. But because of Anya's ability to read minds, it makes sense that this part of her development would take priority over something like proper speech and school smarts. Her empathy extends to all the adults around her, her fellow kids, and even animals. While a lot of her empathetic actions stem from her need to help keep Twilight's and Yor's identities secret and thus maintain the peace of the Forger family, there are many examples where this isn't the case and she's simply acting out of nothing but concern for others: comforting the Eden cow because she understood it was scared, worrying about the well being of the Project Apple dogs, leaping into action when she heard someone drowning, and comforting Damian when she knew he was scared during the bus hijacking.

Even when identity reveals aren't at stake, she still comforts Twilight and Yor when they need it, like when she thought Twilight had a nightmare after his backstory reveal, and when she knew Yor was concerned about Loid's relationship with Fiona.

The bus hijacking was a prime example of Anya being empathetic, but not to an unrealistic degree. She empathized with Billy enough to diffuse the situation, but not on a deeper level because, again, she's a little kid. She understood he was upset, but she didn't have outpouring sympathy or deep, introspective thoughts about his situation – that's something an adult would do, not a little kid who's still learning what emotions to feel at what times. What she eventually does is something that makes perfect sense both for her personality and age. With some great resourcefulness on her part, she was able to figure out what she had to say to manipulate Billy the right way, but at the same time she was playing it by ear and basically clueless as to the depth of the matter, yet mustered up all the courage she could…typical Anya.

There are a lot more examples like this of Anya's sense of empathy, too many to list. But the bottom line is, although Anya does use her powers to manipulate people to benefit her own situation and those she cares about (who can blame her?) it's clear that even at such a young age, she's a genuinely good girl who wants to help others and do good in the world, even if she's too young to realize it yet. Not unlike her parents, really. I think we'll be searching a long time before we find another 1st-grade aged character as awesome as Anya.

[potatoofdefiance]

My two cents and a rant on the allegations and Good Omens

(I will probably regret this later)

This has been eating at me for a while now, ever since the news broke that Neil Gaiman was a sex pest (see infamous TERF-adjacent podcast by Tortoise media) and I have been consciously and unconsciously ruminating over it for weeks now, so here goes.

I think the news of Neil Gaiman hit me harder than I was expecting, and certainly harder than I would have liked.

I didn’t (and certainly do not now) consider myself a “true fan”. I was never a hard-core fan, one that goes to signings or book fairs or cons to meet my favourite author. Partly because I never latched that much on any of the authors of the books or movies I loved, and partly (maybe for the best now that I think about it) because I never had the money, or wasn’t located in a geographically favored area. Meaning I never lived anywhere near wherever events with Neil Gaiman were happening.

So, with all this in mind, how is it that the news managed to hit me so hard?

I thought (read: ruminated) about it, and I think it is because of Good Omens. And the latest times. In my life, and I think a good chunk of other people’s lives too, these last few years have been a roller-coaster. You choose which particular scenario the roller-coaster is set into; mine is on fire, running through a sea of shit and we are being slapped by gooey flaming eels hard in the face.

Maybe someone might enjoy this. That someone isn’t me.

But the point is: I have been struggling. With my life, with a mental health condition, with the world and my place in it.

Enter Good Omens. In an effort to actively expose myself to “nice” stuff, stuff that would, if not make me feel better, at least make me laugh, I started tapping more into the fandom.

I’m not a fandom person. Again, never latched onto anything that had a fandom big enough (where are the Ann Halam fans? No one is making cosplays of Sloe from Siberia, are they?).

But with Good Omens, it seemed perfect for me. I wasn’t invested so much, it didn’t make me feel like I was “lacking” something in order to be part of it. I just felt like I didn’t care enough to really be vulnerable to it, I felt like it could have been a nice innocuous hobby.

But that’s the point. Thinking it was innocuous made me let down my guard enough to actually fall in love with the fandom. Fall in love with those two weirdos of characters (which by the way, I’ll say this now: I think Aziraphale and Crowley as portrayed in the series are more a product of fans and Tennant and Sheen than they are a product of Gaiman and Pratchett. And this is not a bad thing per se, I think, but let’s give credit where credit is due).

And let me be clear: I gained so so much from joining the fandom. It has positively affected so many seemingly unrelated parts of my life, and I’m so grateful to so many kind strangers on the internet who have shared such wholesome art with me, and have gifted me so much, that even putting it into words is simply not enough to explain all of it.

And one of the results of this “wave of wholesomeness” is I also started following Gaiman more closely.

Like so many, I loved Coraline. Gaiman seemed a genuinely nice person. An old guy who had wisdom to share, and who seemed to be fascinatingly non-stereotypical? If that makes sense. What I mean is that he was everything my father warned me against. A goth, weird, a writer therefore an artist (and in my family we know artists are fools who end up on the street jobless and homeless). And yet, to me now he seemed such a normal guy. Yes maybe someone who enjoyed that fashion style, but otherwise very far away from the usual excess of a rockstar. Of course I was too young when he was at the peak of his rockstar years. English is not my first language, and when he was 40 I was in elementary school and just learning about him, and you know, they do not write about his fans passing out at signings or his groupies on the back cover of children’s books.

What I mean is that I didn’t have access to all the media and information about him.

So I start seemingly connecting to this writer, whose works I have enjoyed for the most part, and who seems such a nice guy in how he interacts with his fans and people in general. Such an inoffensive, kind person. And kind seemingly to everyone.

I started liking him. To the point where I remember telling my partner: you know, Neil Gaiman is someone I’d take a coffee with (which in Italian culture is one of the greatest honors one can give you. Having a coffee while sitting at a café and chat for hours is what good friends do).

So, in my mind he had a special place now. He was someone I started to admire and look up to.

And this is, I think, where it hurts. It hurts because even if I wasn’t personally victimized, I never met him, he never acted creepy with me, he doesn’t even know me, it still felt like I, as part of the fandom, had been used for his clout. And also, it hurts to feel like someone you trusted because of how they presented themselves has lied to you.

And on top of that: it is so fucking disrespectful. The fact he thought he could get away with it. With hurting so many people (one is one too many by the way), and causing so much pain, while also enjoying crowds of adoring fans, both online and in person.

I find it personally difficult to reconcile my love of the GO fandom with all of this right now. And I think it’s for a number of reasons.

Firstly because the silence of institutions and people around these facts has opened some old wounds and made me angry again towards a system that I perceive as hostile towards me and people like me who might be vulnerable.

What I mean is: I know that Gaiman is a powerful person, and a lot of people need to bring money home and are tied to contracts and what not (yeah I’m looking at our favorite two male presenting british actors here) and I understand it. I do. And this is exactly why this stuff makes me angry again. Angry at the whole shitty system we live in, where if you happen to be in some kind of power imbalance you might end up having to eat shit and shut up while witnessing violence against you or others and not being able to utter a word about it. This sucks. It makes me angry. It makes me angry that Michael Sheen, someone I like to believe would be among the first to shout “I BELIEVE THE VICTIMS” if he was talking to friends at a bar, likely has to shut up and play nicely because Darth Amazon has some fucking clause written in Braille somewhere that says he has to sacrifice his firstborn if he ever dares to suggest he doesn’t like anyone related to the franchise.

It makes me soooo angry that we stay in the dark, and we only know from those people who are brave, and powerful enough to speak up about something that (allegedly) has been known for fucking years in the writing community. That this person was a creep. That he was treating people, mainly women and non-binary folks, if not bad, at least poorly.

And you know, this makes me even more angry because I have been in such shitty situations too! I was a victim of a system where exploitation and borderline abuse were normalized in a work setting.

And it wakes something deep in me to read that “it was an open secret bla bla bla” and again: I understand why people set up whisper networks instead of taking these giants down. I understand it. It still makes me angry because I simply do not want to live in such systems. Systems where I’m either the sacrificial lamb or I’m the one tying it on the table, or handing the axe over to the butcher, or a witness who has no power to stop the suffering.

I don’t want to live in such a system. But I have to. In my real life. I have to put up with so much shit sometimes, shit that makes me feel like I cannot stand up for my values because hey, I need to pay the bills too. And Good Omens was one of those few things where I could escape a bit into an alternative reality, where everything could be a bit better.

And I’m sure the fandom is still like this for most of the fans. I have witnessed first-hand how supportive and cheerful this fandom can be.

For me though, it still makes me think of all this...tsunami of shit.

I want to be able to enjoy the silly fanart, the memes, the wait for season 3 again. But I can’t. I can’t because my brain does not work like that. Good Omens still means Neil Gaiman too much to me. And I cannot go around talking cheerfully about Good Omens while feeling like I’m feeding into the clout of someone who used their power to coerce vulnerable people. Because (and I might be wrong) it feels like the message I’m sending is: my comfort show/book is more important than your pain or your life. And I can’t. This is not the truth.

I feel for the victims. Probably I feel even more than it would be healthy for me, or normal. But I don’t know, I feel like I connect to them. Maybe because I’ve been a victim of abuse perpetrated in clear power-imbalanced relationships, or because I felt like nobody cared about me and my wellbeing for so long, that eventually I stopped caring too.

And it is bad. It’s dehumanizing to a point where you really start believing you don’t matter. Your wellbeing doesn’t matter. There are more important things.

Ok so, I don’t want the victims, the survivors, to feel like this. They matter. They matter to me because if there’s one thing that is going to re-ignate the sacred fire of defiance in me is being able to stop this self-feeding cycle of self-loathing and misery. You matter. We matter. Vulnerable people who have been hurt matter to me. If there is one thing we can do to resist these systems of oppression and these people who abuse their power, that thing is believing that the people they hurt matter. If not more, at least as much as them.

And the way I show myself and others that the victims and their lives matter to me is by distancing myself from Neil Gaiman and his works, at least for now.

I feel bad for people who might have found themselves unwillingly tied to all of this. I feel bad for Sheen and Tennant, for all the wonderful artists and craft-people who have put so much of their work and love in Good Omens and I don’t want to let them down.

My two cents are that season 3 will not be canceled if they see there’s enough traction, and definitely won’t be canceled unless fans start a crusade against it, which won’t happen most likely.

The fandom loves Tennant and Sheen too much, and these are too much nice people to really hold a grudge against them, so I don’t think it will be canceled.

I’m afraid we (I say “we” meaning everyone who loves Good Omens) will be “held hostage” by Gaiman in the sense that he knows season 3 is not going to happen without him, so it’s either “we” or the majority of “we” behave, or it’s not going to happen. Which again, I don’t think he would lose the opportunity to make some money, and he also has contract duties to fulfill, but it still is worth it for him to try to leverage his power.

I wanted to end this rant on a positive note, somehow. But I don't know exactly what to say. Recently one of the things that has brought me laughs and joy has been the Channel 4 series “We are Lady Parts”.

In one of the episodes they quote a very beautiful poem, which came back to mind when I was listening to Claire (the latest woman who has come forward with allegations) on the “Am I Broken” podcast.

The poem is Speak by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, I will paste the version from the show, because I think it’s very powerful and beautiful.

Speak, for your two lips are free Speak, for your tongue is still your own This straight body still is yours. Speak, your life is still your own.

See how in the blacksmith’s forge flames leap high and steel glows red, padlocks opening wide their jaws. Every chain’s embrace outspread.

Time enough is this brief hour Until body and tongue lie dead. Speak, for truth is living yet. Speak, whatever must be said.

[aroacenezhaanddainsleif]

when I played Caribert, I was pretty disappointed about the lack of impact Dain seemed to have on Kaeya, honestly. during Kaeya's hangout, he didn't mention the weird cryptic blond dude who just dropped family lore once, which I thought would have been pretty important?

but in truth, I think Dain actually had a HUGE impact on Kaeya.

we can all know that from Kaeya's personal lore and former events that Kaeya had very conflicted feelings over his duty to Khaenri'ah and his love for Mondstadt, even with his estranged relationship with Diluc (which now seems partly fixed?), but in the performance route of Kaeya's hangout, Kaeya makes his choice.

The story of Prince Qubad is a very, very thinly veiled metaphor for Khaenri'ah all throughout, and then we finally get to the end scene of the play:

Kaeya: When I departed my beloved home to fight in a foreign land, I did so to honor his (my father's) wishes and for my duty to our people. Kaeya: alas, is this fate's grand design… that I should spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, till I am laid to rest in a grave far from home? K: Must it be so…? K: my dear audience, I ask you this: do you believe in fate? if fate decreed that your life was to end in tragedy, what would you do? Traveler: I would challenge my fate, and rise above it. / I would bravely face my fate. K: then so must it be! I shall discard this intaglio, and rid myself of the shackles of fate. G: my dear prince, do you intend to betray your father, and abandon your heritage? K: fate means to send the machinations of war to every corner of the land, to fan the flames of conflict til they engulf the entire world…

K: fate would see my sword tainted with the blood of innocents, that the bright banner of my homeland might fly in every nation known to mankind. K: but I shall not bow to the will of fate. I am no pawn in heaven's plan. K: I, Kaeya Qubad, will spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, til I breathe my last in a place far from home. K: but I must walk this path, or freedom dies by my hand. goodbye, my tribe and kin. farewell, sweet land of my birth.

after a lifetime of questioning his role, Kaeya makes his choice for Mondstadt. and I think this happening after meeting Dain isn't a coincidence. (and no, not in a soulmate way or shipping way- this is Kaeya's moment of choice, not infatuation.)

after not only learning the history of his origins, Kaeya meets a Khaenri'ahn who... doesn't want to return Khaenri'ah to its glory days? who is more focused on helping others and minimizing damage than causing more for his own gain? who chose his path and has not budged since, even through loss?

Kaeya gets to see someone who is so Khaenri'ahn, so human at his core, someone who cares not for the fate and tragedy of their nation. Kaeya gets to meet someone from his homeland who tells him to leave it all behind, who tells him he should take the chance he has been given at his own life; who actively discourages the idea of Kaeya being a fated "prince" or being indebted to Khaenri'ah.

even though he never said it, I think meeting Dainsleif helped Kaeya choose his own path, which is all Dain ever truly asked of him, anyway.

good for Kaeya.

(i understand that i used "ship" tags but those are more for visibility and duo name than anything else. idm if you ship them, i just request that your tags do not turn my analysis post into a ship post, pls! :)

[naarlar]

Okie so hot take: I don’t think Melinoë is as good of a protagonist as Zagreus. And here’s why.

It all comes down to motivation. Why did Zag go through the events of Hades 1? Because he was living in an abusive and volatile household and had to find some way to make things better for not just himself but his house. Otherwise he surely would have lost his mind having to deal with the abuse he got (remember at the beginning of the game basically only Nyx and Achilles were helping him. Everyone else is either neutral towards him or outright hostile). He needed answers, he needed to find out who and what he was by trying to find Persephone. And in the end he succeeded and was able to create a better life for himself and his house. Hell, even his relationship with his dad improved.

Now let’s look at Mel (yes this criticism is only addressing Early Access Hades 2). Why is she going through the events of Hades 2? Because… she’s been groomed since basically birth to kill Chronos. She doesn’t really have any other motivation than because it is what is expected of her essentially. She even says during her confrontation with Chronos, AFTER HE THREATENS TO HURT HER FAMILY, what do I care I barely know them (yeah sure she could just be bluffing to Chronos but that is still a very chilling thing to say when supposedly all of this is to save them and it makes her reunion with Hades lowkey ring hollow or weak). In another scene she even says the same thing to Hecate and says Hecate is more her mother than anyone else. Heck even in the flashback scene with young Mel and Hecate (which was very cute I’ll admit) she says she would want her mother to come back so Hecate isn’t sad. This makes all her motivations to kill Chronos and save the Underworld seem very… disconnected from the main component of the game? Being saving the house of hades and her family??

Like it’s expected of her and she was raised at birth to basically be prepared for this but she doesn’t have any personal reasons for doing any of this than just not letting Hecate and the others in the Crossroads down. Hell when she comes back from killing Chronos for the first time it honestly feels like Hecate is more interested and invested in what happened than Mel herself.

It makes her a really weird protagonist especially when comparing to her brother and how effective he was as a protagonist. Think about it, with Zag we got really in depth and character revealing moments where as the player we understand why he is doing all of this and so it is easy to go along for the ride because we like Zag and want to help him. Mel says she cares a lot about what is going on and wants revenge, but it all feels surface level (and which is understandable she doesn’t know these people, all she can say is “the titan took my family” when let’s be real she sees the people in the crossroads as more of her family). It honestly just seems like because she is expected to kill Chronos since she could think, she feels she has to do all this. It feels weird how she is disconnected from the core point of the game being to save the house of hades when Zag was so integral to that same core point in the first game.

I dunno, just my thoughts, I’m curious to see what everyone else thinks.

Edit: just fyi cause I feel with the comments I’ve been getting from my posts, I like hades 2 I am excited especially for the official release. I recognize my criticism/analysis could be wrong or out of date since the game isn’t finished yet. These are just my initial thoughts.

[hellosweetart]

I’ve thought of another route after the asylum ending: where Francis develops schizophrenia after Nacha and Anastacha cut him off. I’m no mental health expert but after doing a bit of research this is what I could come up with so if there’re any inaccuracies, my bad. Francis is completely isolated and locked up in his white room. He’ll never see his wife and daughter again after he kidnapped them and forced them to love him. When they told him they don’t love him anymore, it ultimately broke him. He can try all he wants to escape but he’s all locked up. And now his spirit is so broken that he didn’t have the will to live or find them anymore. Francis spends the rest of his days crying, calling out for Nacha and Anastacha to come back to him or lie down on his bed in a listless catatonic state. Francis won’t eat or take his medication even if the nurses ask him to.

He will create a world where he’s still with his family again, before everything went downhill. He and Nacha are still in love, she fully supports him and cooks him his favourite meals. Anastacha still loves him as a father. He still gets to hug her and say “I love you to his family.” He will create scenarios where they all lovingly spend time together like the park, the pool, the beach, anywhere as long as he gets to spend his every waking moment with them. What Francis isn’t aware of is that he’s actually all alone and that he’s just talking to the walls.

The psychiatrists and detectives observed Francis’s strange behaviour of hearing voices, talking to himself, his catatonia, etc, however since mental health care wasn’t the best so I don’t believe they know how to deal with it. During Francis’s sessions with his psychiatrist, if they try to shatter his perfect delusions, Francis will break into hysterical sobs and will frantically attack his psychiatrist shouting, “No you’re wrong! My wife loves me! My daughter loves me! We’re happy together! I know they love me! We’re in love!”

Francis’s memories will get blurry but if his psychiatrist questions Francis about his past or show something that will trigger any of his awful memories like a pot of hot tea or cigarettes, Francis will become more unstable and will have a mental breakdown, shrieking in fear as vague memories of his father abusing him or his mother psychologically abusing him comes back. Once again the medical assistants have to restrain him.

Eventually, Francis’s delusions would evolve to him regressing into a time when he was still with his mother. Even though his last memories with his mother was traumatic, he still held some love for her and Francis wanted to go back to a time where his mom still loves him.

“Mommy…mommy…” Francis muttered like a sad little boy asking for his mother’s affection, “Mommy…I’m tired… mom…can I ask for a hug… dad’s being cruel again… mom… can you tell me a story…”

He would go from crying fits to happy childlike giggling and vice versa. Soon his delusions would combine where all the three people he loves the most in his life come together as one happy family. He wouldn’t have to experience sadness and loneliness again as long as he has his mother, wife and daughter with him. Sometimes Angus appears as this weird uncle figure/good friend because a part of Francis still cares for him in a morbid way. This shows who Francis is at his core. He was an extremely traumatised and lonely child who went through so much abuse that it turned him into a monster that hurts people yet buried his emotions deep within himself. Everyone in his life abandoned him, including his own family. If no one could truly love him, what else can he do other than create a world where he’s happy with the ones he loves?

After years of being locked up in his padded cell, Francis Mosses is no more. He lost any semblance of what’s left of his former self. All that’s left of him is an empty shell drowning in his own hallucinations and delusions of the comfort of his made up happy family. The doctors would either lobotomise him or wait until the day of his execution.

As the day of his execution comes, Francis will savour his final meal of beef stew and strawberry cheesecake as he cries because it’s tastes just like home, how Nacha made his meals, where he and his family would sit down to have a quiet family dinner together. When Francis is strapped to the electric chair, he could barely make out his surroundings but he thought he saw his wife and daughter at the front stands (and possibly Angus at the back). When the executioner asks for his final words, all Francis could say is, “Nacha…Ana…where are you? I still love you…” before finishing the job.

Angus could only hide the sadness in his eyes with his hat. Even though he’s angry that Francis got himself caught, he still sees him as a friend and a part of him misses him. Nacha and Anastacha are crying into each other’s arms for support. All of their source of trauma is finally over. Despite everything Francis put them through, they don’t truly hate them as they thought they would. They still felt some sympathy for him but nothing could put weight the grief they caused them. Both mother and daughter stuck to each other after the execution since they only have each other now and they’ll learn how to cope with this together.

~ SK Francis anon 🔪

This is definitely one of the worst and saddest endings of the SK fanfic. When he is hallucinating about his family, it reminds me of Alice: Madness Returns, there the protagonist created her own world of imagination.

I can also see that in spite of the trauma SK Francis had inflicted on them, there still part of Nacha and Anastacha that still care for him. They know its a wrong feeling but he has never been physically abusive to them, nor dropped his duty of being husband and a father. They are financially stable thanks to his hard work as a milkman. Its just that...his method of taking care of them is...suffocating. They don't have freedom when he's around. Meanwhile, Angus is weeping inside, not only he lost a companion on his business, but more importantly, his friend and ally.

It may take a looooolng loong way for Nacha and Anastacha to recover from the trauma. Its their life now.

Also, this is pretty silly and funny but can you imagine that during his execution, Isthar Ereskigal appeared and took away Francis.

"AH, my other lover, I finally got you!"

Of course Francis, in deluded state, thought Nacha is talking to him. "Ah, my sweetie. I thought I'll never see you again..."

People around are mortified to see a floating undead female monster took the one of the worst criminal in their century.

Nacha is the most terrified of the bunch because how much she looks just like her. Ana felt the same.

"YOU TWO ENJOY YOUR LIVES! HE IS MINE NOW! HAHAHAHAH"

Then poof, the monster is gone with him.

I am sure Ishtar will "borrow" a potion from Lilith that will make him into a literal monster in Astral Circle.

[zeroducks-2]

Zero you mentioned hating on people who get prissy about people shipping characters they dont actively ship and it sparked a LONG burning question of mine concerning bias shipping culture in Batfam fandom. Fans who attack and complain and make a big show of hating on ‘batcest’ ships ARE SO DUCKING HYPOCRITICAL OH MY LORD. I don’t understand why it’s considered okay to ship Dick x Barbara or Barbara x Bruce, or Steph x Tim. But seen as a cardinal sin to ship Jason x Dick, or Jason x Tim or Bruce x Dick??? Especially when the only argument antishippers make is ‘that’s gross their brothers/father and son and that’s incest 😤’. I’m sorry? Did you not just post nsfw Dickbabs content? Did DC not make Steph and Tim romantic love interests? Is that not incest too? Considering the fandom classifies all of them as family, and in a lot of fan spaces and fanfics, are they not interacting and being written as a family unit? I see SO many people blog about Bruce seeing Babs as his first daughter, or being making weird headcanons on Bruce and Steph’s relationship and donning it ‘tired uncle!Bruce and weird niece!steph core’. Like you obviously see them connected to Bruce through familial ties, and yet you’re okay with them dating Dick and Tim who are legally adopted by Bruce and who are also known as his sons? The irony. The hypocrisy. The ducking mockery of it all. Personally, I don’t think the issue that antishipper have is the ‘incest’ part but rather the ‘gay’ part of it all. Game of Thrones taught me that the general public actually don’t care about fictional incest between characters as long as it’s not between two male characters. Because lord forbid the’s a couple of queers in media.

I have been talking about this many times and I have no qualms talking about it some more:

✨ IT'S NOT INCEST, YALL JUST HOMOPHOBIC ✨

The whole idea around "batcest" makes no sense. These are people who did not grow up together, aren't related and never even lived under the same roof. Incest is not a spectrum, incest means sexual intercourse with a relative within the prohibited degree of consanguinity, consanguinity means BLOOD RELATIONSHIP, and these people DO NOT HAVE IT.

But even then, they are a bunch of hypocrites because I have not ever seen anyone batting an eye over Dickbabs or Timsteph (or Jaybabs, or Timbabs - yeah depending on the time period or the media, poor Babs has been passed around a lot). Their relationship is the exact same as the boys' when it comes to shared experiences. Steph has even been a Robin. But nobody cares because 1, DC is not pushing the "family rhetoric" with the girls all that much since they treat them as lower importance characters (when they're there at all), and 2, it's not queer relationships.

And this is ultimately what makes me go insane about queer kids parroting anti bullshit. Censorship is the weapon used by bigots to criminalize, punish and ultimately erase queer people from existence, it takes to study queer history for five minutes to understand this. You can see it happening in every fandom space where every type of queer ship gets put through some sort of moral sieve, and they WILL find reasons why it's unethical to ship it. Did you know that now shipping Dick/Wally is problematic because "Wally has a wife" ? So basically they're turning the very reason why fandom was born (exploring something different from the standardized heteronormative/amatonormative way of doing everything when it comes to narrative) into something pRoBLeMaTiC.

And these little fucking idiots keep spouting queerphobic nonsense while feeling morally righteous, not understanding that they are playing the game of the same people who if they could would shoot them in the street for being anything but straight and cis. And I'm not even taking into consideration the amount of harassment that comes from antis who think bullying and suibaiting someone over the perceived honor of fictional characters is okay.

BTW it's working. Just to name one, tumblr is not even doing its little rainbow capitalism number this year, because it's not a good look to be queer friendly anymore. Antis are helping the people who want us dead get to a spot where being anything but "normal" is illegal. When it happens, and if we keep going the way that we are now it will happen, it's going to be their fault too.

[paintedkinzy-88]

(So sorry i feel like im spamkmg yoyr ask box but i just rotate this au around in my brain like microve)

So i was checking out the posts linked through your coi au master post, and this part:

Did this this cut more deep than Donnie intended? Like does Leo still think about this one line even months past? Like does he think, as hes going on his nightly falling/flying sesions how his brothers couldnt even think of leaving april behind but didn't hesitate to leave him behind

Meanwhile donnie and bros dont see it that that. They see leo as equal, even without wings, they never once thought of it as leaving him behind. Because hes their brother, theyd NEVER leave him behind.

But then that got me thinking... did they accidentally like ACTUALLY leave leo behind that first night donnie made his wings. Cause i can see donnie and the ither two being caught up in the joy of flying together for the first time, maybe going too fast for leo to keep up on the rooftops, cementing the idea in his head that his bros dont need him.

This is long winded lol i just got angst on my mind 😭

Spam me all you want!! I may not be able to promise I’ll get to every ask I ever receive, I just don’t have that time, but I CAN promise that I see, read, and overthink everything anyone sends me (ง’̀-‘́)ง So send away!!

As for your question: Absolutely, yes, that moment struck Leo down to his core — but not like. Personally. He knows Donnie didn’t mean it like that! Realistically, he understands that his brothers/sister care just as much about him as he does about them. They’d never purposefully leave him behind!! At the end of the day, he trusts that, should he ever get seriously knocked down, his family would turn right back around to help him get back up.

But he still has a MAJOR barrier that he sees between them. One that Donnie AND April are now able to literally fly over. And now that he’s outnumbered, that wall feels even higher than before. He’s not alone, not ever, but it certainly feels like it sometimes…

And all of that is exactly why he doesn’t want to say anything. He not only feels a little silly to have this impossible dream in the first place (his hoard is literally birds and butterflies and shit, that’s so weird and pathetic, isn’t it???), but he doesn’t WANT them to worry about him. He doesn’t want them to turn tail and come back just to make sure he’s keeping up with them. He can’t hold them back like that!

It’s better to pretend he’s on the same level, train himself into the ground (even literally if that’s what it takes) to prove he’s on the same level, make them focus on his stellar swimming skills that are (to them) on par to their flying, than for them to ever realize that all he’ll ever do is look up at them from below.

Also, yes, after Dee made his first fully functioning flight pack, they all went on a quick flight around the city. April was the one to suggest they move it to the ocean so Leo could at least keep up with them and cheer them on…

[soleminisanction]

Hi! This may seem like a stupid question, but, what lantern do you think each Batfamily member (direct or adjacent) would be based on their personalities and your thoughts on the characters? And the beautiful, chaotic babies, aka Young Just Us? I know some think Tim would be a Green Lantern and even though I love it (mainly because Tim could develop a friendship with John and Kyle), I'm not entirely convinced that it's the right color for him. I can't see Stephanie as a Blue Lantern either… About that, and even though I know that they are different fandoms, I've to ask you the last question: do you think that Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson could be Blue Lanterns?

You don't have to answer any of this if you don't want to, I just wanted to get your honest opinion 'cause I love your meta, posts and fics.

PS: Sorry if I made any spelling mistakes. English is not my native language.

Not a stupid question at all. In fact, I actually answered it before, a couple of years ago.

The TL;DR on that post is that I think Green Lantern is a good default fit for any of the Bats, because you can't do what they do as superheroes without an insane amount of willpower. Personally, I pegged Tim as being a good fit for Indigo, compassion... if the Indigo Tribe didn't play by bizarre rules because men who write comic books are weird about emotions. I could also see an argument for Tim landing among the Star Sapphires, given how many of them are motivated by lost love.

When it comes to Blue Lanterns -- ugh. The Steph as a Blue Lantern thing is so frustrating and dumb. It comes from a single image in her Batgirl run, where people completely ignore the context: it's part of her Black Mercy montage, which means it's an illusion that only exists in Steph's mind and the only thing it proves in-universe is that Stephanie wants Steph to be a Blue Lantern. Which is in turn mostly just indicative of a massive ego, because Blue Lanterns are presented as literal messianic archetypes.

('Oh but it's a story Bryan Q. Miller wanted to do!!' Yes, and DC told him no, that's stupid, and made him use Barbara instead. BQM was a Smallville writer who confused Steph with a 1960s Broadway character, he is the last person you should listen to about canon)

Of the Bats, I think the one most eligible for Blue Lantern status is undeniably Dick, just due to the role he plays in DC's larger superhero society. I could definitely see Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson being applicable too.

The rest of the Core Four is trickier to pin down for me, personally. My gut instinct says Blue for Bart as well, partially because I think he's the one of the Flash family that best 'inherits' that aspect that made Barry the Blue Corps deputy in Blackest Night, and partially because of how he's been presented in the Infinite Frontier era specifically, as this bright bolt of color that rushed back into the world and brought the past with him.

But like. A part of me also wants to say that about Kon? Though I could also see him falling into the compassion-if-Indigo-wasn't-so-weird category, because that boy just cares so much for the people around him (in Hawaii, in Cadmus, in Smallville, in YJ and the TT, in the Superfam) and defines himself so much by his ability to be helpful and useful to them.

And Cassie, I'm inclined to put her in Green, with the temptations of Red, because she basically became a superhero through sheer gumption and repeatedly demonstrates her willingness to stand up to literal gods to do what she thinks is right; but there's also that anger and ability to do serious harm that Ares tried to cultivate within her that never completely goes away.

...so yeah, that's my (kinda rambling) two cents on the whole thing. 😅

[citizensun]

Queerness and the House of Usher (spoilers!)

See I just added these Thoughts to the tags in @quecksilvereyes 's post but now I have Feelings too

TFotHoU (or HoU, as I will refer to it here), as expected from a Mike Flannagan show, has a bunch of Queer Rep™ to talk about. HoU is, also, about remarkably evil people - amoral capitalists who'll step over anyone if it means they'll get something from it. And look! Some of them are queer! Kinky too!

That's bad queer representation... right?

The show isn't that clear when stablishing sexualities, but we see that at least three of the Usher kids - Napoleon, Camille and Victorine - have same sex SOs/assistants with curious job descriptions. Prospero's taste for orgies probably implies queerness too, but honestly I don't remember if he gets it going with any guys in the story. I honestly have no idea about Tamerlane's voyerism thingie and Frederick is the only one with a "traditional family" going on.

Unrelated, but: Leo is definitely cheating on his bf Julius. Completely dismissing about his worries for him too. And for his cat. That's objectively evil, clearly. Vic literally killed her fiancée Alessandra, though she didn't stuff her under the floorboard, which is an L when compared to Poe's original. Cam doesn't believe in true love. Perry blackmailed his sister in law. Mean. He's also got a surprisingly high kill count for the family's disappointment, but since unlike Roderick he only killed rich people, we stan. I don't belong in Kinky spaces so I haven't got a big take on Tammie, only that - well, she's completely dismissing of her husband and sees him as a prop, just like the sex worker she hires.

Huh.

See, the nature of a story called "the fall of X family" is that X family is going to be the main character. The title kinda implies that they're falling for a reason, ergo, they're despicable fucking people. And they're queer! They're very queer. Many flavors of gay. They're the main characters, and they're monsters, and they're gay.

No, that's not bad rep.

Queerness as a movement, a community and a theory is very focused on scaping a cisheteronormative society's binaries (ie man/woman, husband/wife, public/private) and creating living conditions to those who fall outside of these categories - mlms and wlws, the trans, the nbs, the aros and aces... we are all queer, strange and estranged from this weird and limited worldview. And so we create a community for ourselves. It's very focused on care and anti-stablishment. Since a cisheteronormative society tends to be very white, rich and western, it's also focuses on anti-racism, anti-capitalism, anti-imperialism. Y'all know that, this is Tumblr and we love leftist Discourse.

I also know many, many gay people irl who are not like that at all. Libertarians, anarcho-capitalists, terfs, completely apolitical people and the like. Sexuality at it's core is personal, not political, so there are gay people out there who are perfectly comfortable with their sexuality on an individual level but do not see the point of getting involved in the broader context. They're queer, but are they...?

Well—

Not to mention there's lots of asshole gays out there! Don't you have a shitty ex? Have you never been almost run over by a drunken butch who blew cigar smoke into your face? I have! Life experiences are just like that. Maybe you should touch more grass. You'll probably find a lucky gift from your neighbour's dog, who is an astrology-obsessed bisexual and also really hot but stopped making out with you at a party once she found out you're a pisces (the neighbour, not the dog).

(Granted, none of this is as bad as implanting an experimental heart contraption into the fiancée you just killed because she dared to have ethical principles and then being so consumed with grief you stab yourself in front you'd your dad but you know how it goes. We're not the 1%.)

My point is, queer people are people. We are complex. We fuck up, and sometimes there's still times to fix things and sometimes... there isn't. We're consumed by jealousy and regret and sometimes we're so locked into our own head we stop believing the rest of the world is real too. Just like any other people, because unfortunately, queerness isn't a sign of morality.

And even if queerness does mean community, kindness and acceptance, tell me... Where the hell would the Usher kids get those from? The people around them are not really peers – they're ass-istants, blowjob-giving apartments, orgy mates, heart surgery providers, hired fitness moneybags, perfect housewives. Even if the partners are all shown to care for the Ushers, there's still a distance, a power gap, that makes the relationships fundamentally wrong.

And the partners? Arguably they're the good queer rep in the show, but look – even when Julius and Alessandra are shown to be good people (or at least people with an ethical boundary), they're not the good gays, they're simply the good SO's to a family of psychos. Exactly like Bill and Morrie, who afawk are straight people.

Which leads us to HoU's parameter of morality - Auguste Dupin. He refuses to drink the Amontillado, symbol of all the Usher opulence over the years. He got screwed over by the Usher twins and by the Raven herself, but he refused to cave in (except for the informant part, admittedly). He's not a good gay guy; he is gay and he is a good man.

The fundamental difference between our show's main tragic yaoi couple isn't that Auggie is a happily out gay man (and therefore is good) while Roderick is a sad divorced hetero (and therefore is bad). Auggie is the richer man because he is a good man; he has a spouse and children and grandchildren he loves with all his heart. He has a family and a community and he has found a sort of happiness no money can buy. Roderick owns the world – but what does he really have? What do his children even have? How could they ever build communities for themselves if they were never in one? Their father made them compete for his love. He never nurtured their bonds, he just showered them with money and excess until it was too much for them to handle. Juno herself pointed out - they were never a family. The House of Usher was only that. A house. It is empty and soulless.

What is queerness without a community? How could the people who represent the relentless corporate normativity and cutthroat capitalism ever be good queer rep? How can they even be queer?

Hear me out: on the most individual, simple level, being queer is still about not fitting in. These kids are bastards. They are are PoC and women in a predominantly male and white dominated space. They're on top of the world, but they're still outsiders to their own House. How could they not be queer?

And yes, I know this discussion takes a different turn when it comes to representation in media, but it's not like Flannagan fell into a Hays Code-era flamboyant villain trope. Queerness is just there. Just like Victorine and August are both black people in (arguably) the opposite ends of the morality spectrum, there are queer characters of many kinds here. The story just happens to be about the fucked up ones.

HoU is a poignant critique of capitalism and a surprisingly funny adaptation of Poe. We'll judge it by that. It happens to be queer – more things should be.

[milawritesstuff]

jealous gavi smut?!?? I love ur fics/blurbs (idk the name of it I’m sorry) but it’s so GOOD !!

A/N: I can totally picture Gavi being super jealous of any girl he brings around the team bc he’s the youngest and ppl try to underestimate him. Don’t you think?

Warnings: ⚠️ Smut

•••

You and Pablo arrived hand in hand to Camp Nou for the game. Pablo had been injured and he had not been cleared to return yet. He put his arm around your shoulder as the two of you sat down. Pablo turned over to look at you and planted a kiss on your forehead with a smile.

The two of you had been dating for months but had only been public for a few weeks. Your relationship was still new to many who didn’t know the two of you closely.

“Everyone is watching.” You told Pablo. You could feel the eyes of the club’s fans looking over at your section. “Do you care?” He asked. You shook your head. You didn’t care if others saw but you were hesitant about what they would say. Many didn’t like that you were dating Gavi and found anything to hate on you for. You knew Pablo didn’t understand this and that he was actually annoyed you had even said anything because he didn’t understand why you wanted to keep things a secret in the beginning. In fact the subject had been the cause of many fights between the two of you. “Who are you trying to hide me from?” Had asked Gavi.

After the game the two of you went to to the locker rooms for Pablo to greet his teammates. As you waited outside for him you heard a familiar voice behind you. It was Ferran.

“Hola guapa.” He said as he took you into a hug.

“Great game Fer.” You responded with a double kiss on either cheek.

“How’s Pablo?” He asked. “Eager to return.” You chuckled.

The two of you stood talking there for a few minutes until Pablo came back out. Ferran and Pablo exchanged greetings before Ferran said goodbye to you. “Take care, guapa. See you soon.”

Pablo was quiet on the walk to his car until he finally broke the silence. “How long have you known Ferran?” He asked as he opened the door to his car for you. “Since we were little kids. Our families would spend summer holidays together.” You explained.

Pablo remained silent. “Did you two ever date?” He finally asked.

“No.” You answered point blank. “Why?”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He finally admitted. “You have nothing to worry with Ferran, trust me. Apart from a makeout session years ago, he’s like a brother.”

Pablo clenched his teeth and turned over to take a quick look at you as he drove. “Wait, you hadn’t told me about this before.”

“It was nothing Pablo. We were drunk teenagers on holiday and it just happened.”

“Well did you like it?” Continued Pablo.

“Come on Pablo. I don’t even remember it. We were too drunk.”

“So what if you did like it?”

“The fact that I don’t remember it says a lot, I think.” You said with a chuckle.

“You think it’s funny?” He asked.

“Calm down Pablo, it’s just weird to talk to you about this. You’re my boyfriend and nothing in the past should matter now.”

Pablo was clearly upset. You could see his furrowed eyebrows and the way his nose scrunched up as he gripped on to the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white.

You placed your hand on his thigh catching him off guard. “Would you like for me to show you that you have nothing to worry about?” You asked as you licked your lips and moved your hand up higher.

He turned over to look at you with eyes wide open. “I’m driving Y/N, don’t do this to me right now.” The rest of the drive home felt as if Pablo was driving 1000 miles per hour. His hand over yours.

As soon as you stepped into his house Pablo grabbed your hand and led you towards his room. “Let me show you that you won’t need anyone but me.” He said in a hungry voice as he pulled your shirt up and threw it on the ground.

Before you knew it you were laying on Pablo’s bed and he was leaving trails of kisses down your chest and eventually landed right on your core. With a few licks of his tongue Pablo had you yelling out his name. “Pablo…” you whimpered. “Say my name baby. Who else can make you feel like this?”

You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue darting in and out of you. You loved how hungry he was every time the two of you were alone. He held you legs open as he placed small kisses on your thighs. “Just you, Pablo.” You finally responded.

Before you could say anything else Pablo went back to your clit. With little nibbles he caused you to lose control. Your hips began to buck up “stop!” He said as he tried to hold you down. “Pablo, please.” You pleaded which caused a smirk to show on his face.

“I hate the way they all look at you.” He went on as he moved up your body. “Who?” You were caught off guard. “My teammates, every time I bring you around, one of them has to be clinging on to you.” He took one of your nipples in his mouth as he kneaded the other with his cold hands. “Pablo you’re exaggerating, but even if they were you’re the one I go home with.” You tried to reassure him but today Gavi wasn’t having it.

He grabbed your hands and placed them above your head. His lips immediately attached to your neck where he began to leave small bites. You could feel him getting harder as he grinded onto you, his dick trying to push itself out of his underwear. “Pablo you’re going to leave marks on my neck.”

“That’s exactly what I want to do.” He said. “I want them all to know you’re mine.” I want you to remember who makes you become a moaning mess when you look at your neck in the mirror. “Pablo, please. Stop teasing.”

“I’m not teasing baby girl. I just want you to remember how it will feel if you can’t have me, if you leave me for anyone else.” His lips now back on your breast. “I’m not leaving Gavi.” You reassure him.

He dips two fingers inside of you causing you to gasp. “Gavi, more.” You plead. He takes his fingers out of you and brings them up to his mouth before sucking them dry. The pure vision of this makes your core tingle. “Pablo, please fuck me.”

“Tell me who you belong to Y/N” he says with lustful eyes on you.

“Pablo Gavira.”

“Who makes you come over and over again?”

“You, Gavi. Nobody else.”

Finally he hears what he had been longing to hear and thrusts into you. He groans as you open your legs even wider. You need all of him inside of you. He goes in harder and deeper each time. He’s rough tonight. He slaps your ass and proceeds to pull your hair. This makes you moan, the pain excites you.

The way his abs lead the perfect trail to his dick and the way his hips push himself into you. How could you ever want to miss this view? He pulls out of you and asks for you to turn around. Your knees on the bed as you lean forward and open yourself to him. He goes in again but this time faster. He grabs onto your hips and thrusts faster and faster. He’s becoming sloppier but you don’t want it to end. He is able to go in deeper in this position and you love to feel him being this aggressive. His hand reached for your clit as he continues to thrust into you. He forms small circles around you which drives you crazy. “Pablo.” You moan.

“Say my name.” He says in between whimpers. He pulls your hair one last time which sends you in overdrive. “Pablo Gavira. I love how you fuck me.” Your last sentence sends HIM in overdrive. You can feel him coming, he lays on you as the both of you catch your breathe.

As he takes himself out of you and you lay on the bed you turn around to him with a smirk. “I should make you jealous more often, Gavi.”

[mdhwrites]

TOH: The Problem With Waffles

So someone who has lost someone close to them takes palistrom wood and starts carving. They make them in the image of that which they have lost, imparting upon them a desire for them to be what they once were. Alongside this, their new form allows them to also act as their will made manifest upon the world as both lackey, partner, family and pet. Their life is only meaningful until thrown away, abandoned or ended by that which made them.

Am I talking about Hunter being made by Belos or Hunter making Waffles?

Waffles and Hunter actually have a lot in common, such as how as an orphan Philip likely saw his brother as the man who gave him a chance at life after his parents died, just like Flapjack explicitly did for Hunter when Hunter was going to die. A core element of the problem though is actually with how lame the Grimmwalkers are and the lack of magical materials in the Isles. Rather than a complex set of reagents for witch's brew, we get maybe a handful of items and the big two are Titan's Blood... And Palistrom.

Because of this, it's kind of easy to look at Grimmwalkers as advanced Palismen. Hell, it's actually weird that Hunter CAN'T use magic. Palismen have innate magic just by being made by Palistrom wood. Luz proves that they can do magic on their own since she uses Owlbert to activate glyphs from far away, something she cannot do herself. It's implied as part of why witches are commonly stronger with their staffs than without (not that that ever comes into play at any time). Meanwhile, Hunter has multiple magical components, at least one of which is INCREDIBLY powerful and far rarer than Palistrom wood which would make one assume they're stronger because one of the only ingredients we know of for Grimmwalkers is a Galdorstone. So... Why can't he cast magic? Because he doesn't have a bile sac? Does that mean every Palisman actually gets split in half during carving so you can carve out its tiny organs before sealing it back together without any sign of this crack? Because I REALLY doubt it.

Add to that the fact that Palismen are regularly abandoned by their witches for SOME FUCKING REASON (I think the Bat Queen in S1 should have claimed that witches "...No longer are able to care for them" to imply they died because otherwise, what the fuck?) and most seem perfectly without a Palisman and they don't seem all that different from how Belos treats Hunter. Narratively and functionally the two are just treated the same. One simply takes on a more human form since Palismen are PLENTY sentient and able to talk with others.

It makes how Hunter's arc ends, as a clone of Caleb by how many people read it, including myself, suck even harder. He's not just taking cues from the man he was made to look like after all. By chasing a lost loved one like this instead of letting go and looking to the future, he also copies Belos.

And that is the exact opposite of ANYTHING his arc should imply.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[monstercampus]

Ellie help I have werewolf brain rot and Kirk has been living in my mind rent free the past few nights 😩 please tell me more about him, does he have a secret soft side or is being mean his love language and you know he cares about you if he's giving you a hard time? Why does he live in a dorm by himself? Where is he on the possessive scale? Honestly just tell me everything you know about him so I can simp to the best of my ability 🥺😫🙏

And actually while I'm here, anything about Elliott or Julian would also be tasty 👀👀👀 forgive me for the werewolf team fic altered my brain chemistry and I may never be the same

absolutely !! !!!!! i am at your mercy uwu <33 (this is mostly stream of consciousness so if u want more i am READY)

(cws: kirk being a sap + lore)

Kirk is very much that way--giving you a hard time is generally how he shows he cares about you. He's only truly mean to those he doesn't care about, and trust that there is a difference even when you get frustrated over his attitude in the beginning. He didn't grow up with a lot of love in his household so it's really not his area of expertise, he never really learned how to show it and only started experiencing affection when he joined the pack and made friends with all the other werewolves. Being snuggled, having his hair stroked instead of pulled, listening to his friends talk about him being handsome and smart even if he's got a shitty attitude.....it's weird to him. He doesn't hate it deep down, but he hates how it makes him feel vulnerable when he doesn't want to be.

'Vulnerable' is barely even in his vocabulary, which is why he comes at you with so much heat at first. He'd been hoping and praying that you two could boink, have a good time, and then you would pretend like it never happened so he wouldn't have to face any of those feelings he has when he looks at you. But when you don't, and when you're just so sweet, Kirk can't handle it and has to revert to what he knows: being a dick. Not nearly to the extent of how he is with other people, but just enough to keep you at arm's length in his constant fear that you're gonna end up making him feel like he isn't totally worthless. Because what would he do then? He's accepted the role of being an irredeemable, raging douchebag for pretty much all his life. He's got an attitude, his temper is awful, he doesn't consider himself that good-looking, he's got some of the worst grades out of the whole pack, he fixates on things and lets them consume all his thoughts, and he hasn't even got any palate to boot and will eat just about anything, even if it's on the verge of spoiling. He's total garbage and he's friends with a pack of people that couldn't be more perfect; Julian is incredibly charming, Portia's practically a genius, Nick is insanely handsome, Elliott is so gentle and really funny, Priam is a total sweetheart and Athos is the pinnacle of cool in his eyes. How could he even think of measuring up to all that, much less stick out among the rest and prove he's worth even a little bit of your love?

That may be the most frustrating part about Kirk--he can be the prickliest guy you know and he would die before he ever says those things out loud, but he seriously admires his friends and you yet he has little to no belief in himself. Granted, growing up he would've gotten his ass beat for showing that kind of weakness, so it's still deeply ingrained in him as an adult--especially since the pack are pretty much the first friends he's ever made on his own. And at his core, he's jealous. Jealous of them and their nice families, jealous of how well they all turned out despite going through their own struggles, jealous of how easy it is for them to be open when he's terrified of people finding out he's bi, jealous of you for being so brave and so beautiful in equal measure....so that's why the best thing he can do--in his own opinion of course--is to be your collective guard dog.

After all, Kirk isn't afraid to bite. His instincts are hard to control in his human form, could you even imagine how feral he can get when he's full wolf, or even just close to the full moon? If anything it's what he's good at; hunting, beating ass, and taking a punch. If he can't be as good as you and the others deserve, the least he can do is make sure that sweetness and the goodness of your souls isn't ever dominated by someone else. He'll spill blood, he doesn't care. He would even get suspended if it came to that, expelled, arrested, whatever it takes and he'll let the chips fall where they may. You'll know his love for you is real when he starts acting protective over you, not only when other people try to bother you but as far as your daily needs as well. Have you eaten properly? Are you thirsty? Do you need to sleep? When's the last time you stretched? He acts like it's a favour he's doing for you, like you're a little wolf that needs caring after, but in truth it settles his own self-doubts and makes him happier knowing that he's doing something for you--that he's taking care of you like a mate would, and when you smile at him or thank him for his help he just melts. He would do anything to keep hold of that smile.

.....Which is why he's got a plan in his head for after graduation. He and Nick are the oldest and thus are going to graduate first of all of you, so once that's over and done with he's got plans to start building a place for you all to properly call 'home'. It's nothing crazy--just a cabin in the woods--but if there's one thing he can confidently say he's good at it's woodworking, and he's sketched out the designs to make it everything you could ever want.

Personal rooms for you, him, and Portia who has trouble falling asleep when it's noisy. A big living room with enough sofas to fit you all. Polished oak walls like Julian grew up with and always wanted to see again. A bathtub big enough to fit Nicky's giant, muscly legs without spilling over. Tables and chairs to fit everyone and more, to fit all the family gatherings and maybe even the pups you might have one day. A garden out back where he'll plant those ugly little flowers Elliott loves. Trees and greenery around where they can run and hunt and play during the full moon, totally obscured by the rest of the world. A big fucking chandelier in the dining room to intimidate any friends you bring over that think they're hot enough shit to snatch you. It's gonna be perfect, it's gonna be the one thing he can say he's proud of in practically his whole life. It'll be a gift to all of you for putting up with his assholery for so damn long, for sticking with him even when he couldn't find a single reason why you should.

That's the kind of love Kirk shows. Words don't mean much to him--actions and acts of service are how he expresses his affections, because it's much simpler for him to put work into something he can touch and measure and paint rather than throw some flimsy words around and call it love. Plus, one of the reasons why he lives in his own dorm is because his downtime is incredibly important to him. Usually he would request a private one-bedroom apartment, but this year he was assigned roommates that he very quickly drove away with his annoying habits almost entirely on purpose. If he's not comfortable with someone, then like hell is he going to share an intimate living space with them--and after a long day he just needs time to be completely alone. He has to think, work on his projects, exercise, chew on something, and have no prying eyes around that will impede his progress in trying to figure out how the hell he can try to make himself worthy of being loved by you. A dumb, violent wolf reaching to grab the very moon from the sky.

[jaketsparrow]

Tending Part 5!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 11.1K

A/N: Sorry I just had to tease you guys today and make you wait :) Again, I’m so very sorry this took a while, I just had a lot going on! I hope you enjoy the chaos of this chapter, my mind reallyyyy just went wild. 

Another special shout out to @gvfpal for being amazing and getting the first dibs on this piece! Thanks for always listening to my crazy ideas :) 

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), unprotected sex (Don’t do this!), angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, impact play, etc, it’s filth. 

Masterpost

Driving lately has become a weird buffer zone in your life. Every time you get into the car your thoughts just start running. It feels like stepping out of your life momentarily; like you are closed off from your own world. It was like being in your own TV show and watching the recap of the last episode. It’s safe, isolating, and a place to let your thoughts just go. 

As usual, your thoughts go to Jake. He has consumed your entire mind. You were once happy being alone; in fact, you preferred it. Every man you’ve dated in the past year or so hasn’t been someone to take home to the family. Honestly, neither was Jake yet, but there was something different about him. Jake was different than any man you had been with, you felt like he did care for you, but he just didn’t know how. It was like he was a confused little kid who didn’t know whether to kick his mom or hug her when she came home from a long day away. 

You’ve never found yourself weak or needing a man, but Jesus fucking Christ, you needed Jake. Every time you’re in his presence you can’t help but feel your heart rate rise, feel the need growing between your legs… He just had this majestic siren song that you keep falling for. You’ve accepted at this point that Jake was right, he will never be the perfect boyfriend, let alone the perfect man. He was protective of you and did care for you, but he would never let you know that without a fight. 

“Pants off, now.” He commands. 

Oh.

Did he really just?... 

He’s standing over you with this stupid judging face. You don’t want to obey him, but your body is telling you other things. Your heartbeat has traveled from your chest down between your legs, pulsing at the thought of fucking him again. You feel frozen in this state of complete lust. Last night’s extravagance deprived you of his cock, and now… that’s all you want.

Clearly annoyed by your hesitation, Jake scoffs and reaches down to your waist. He wraps his arms around your midsection and lifts you over his shoulder. Your core cuts into his shoulders as he hoists you over him. You feel like a ragdoll trying to manipulate your way out of his grasp.

“Jake!” You whimper, trying to wiggle yourself into a more comfortable position.

“You really ought to learn to fucking listen to me.” His open palm meets your clothed ass, providing a cushioned, but still stinging smack. You yelp, quite loudly, surprised by his actions. He turns his head to look at your defeating position, “You’re in big fucking trouble now.” 

There he was. The Jake you have been craving. The Jake that surprised you your first night together. The Jake who you always secretly wanted, but were also a little scared of. This version of him was almost completely heartless, using you as he pleased. You become his plaything when this persona switches on. And you enjoy every minute of it. 

He loops his fingers underneath the waistband of your sweats and yanks them off in one vigorous pull. Your ass is now on full display. You reach below his shirt and rake your nails across his lower back, trying any means to rile him up further. 

Jake winces through gritted teeth, “You’re such a fucking whore.” 

“And you fucking love it,” You cry.

Another open-handed smack breaches your ass; another yelp fires out of you. This one is sure to leave a mark. 

“You’re gonna wish you were good.” 

He starts his walk to the bedroom, and you continue to try to wiggle free of him. His grip is firm on you and the position he’s burdened you with provides no leverage to win. Although you really don’t want to be set free, it’s more fun not to completely comply with 

his whims. 

He approaches the bed and throws you down with a brute but controlled force. Your head falls back into the mattress you neatly made not that long ago. You reach your hands out to brace yourself from breaking. The fabric bunching up in your fists. 

“Hey! I just made this!” You chime.

Speaking at that moment was something you instantly regretted. 

Jake is standing over you, breathing hot and heavy. The tension in the air is thick and you know what you have gotten yourself into now. His demeanor is fierce, brow furrowed and eyes glaring through you. His hands are balled up by his sides and you can see the rigidity in his body. Behind his eyes, his brain is wracking through plans of what to do with you, his disobedient girl. 

You slide your legs up and down the mattress, nervous and excited about what he is thinking of. You run your hands down your stomach, trying to entice him to do something, do anything to you. Anything he wanted. You slowly part your legs, presenting yourself to him. 

“No. You don’t deserve that.” He barks, “If you think any of this will be for your pleasure… You’re delusional.”

“...Jake.” You beg. 

He reaches down towards your head, sending his fingers through your scalp and to the back of your neck, whipping you up, tugging his fingers on your hair. He leans closer to your face, still hovering over you. 

“Not.” A harsh pull at the back of your head puts you eye to eye with his looming presence. “My,” Another wincing pull tearing at your scalp, “fucking name.”

Jake holds you in his grip, dominating you completely. You feel defenseless, like an injured bird, waiting for him to care for you, but he doesn’t. 

“Please! Please, sir!” You beg. 

He releases you from his grip and your neck snaps back up to its rightful place. 

“Color.” He demands. 

You look up to him, eyes fierce and ready. “Green.”

Jake grabs your jaw, resting his grip along the bone, “You are mine right now. I didn’t give everything up for you to be flirting with my fucking twin. Do you understand me?”

You nod your head vigorously, feeling the shame settling in you. Who knew you could feel ashamed and horny all at the same time. 

“Words.” He orders.

You swallow any shame and try your best to put it aside; it wouldn’t help you now.

 “Yes, sir.” You mewl.

His hands move to the side of your neck, holding your jaw firmly with his thumb. 

“You know what you should be doing right now.” 

He guides your eyes down to look at the growing bulge in his pants. He seems harder than ever before, completely drunk on his own control. You look up at him through heavy eyes, scared. You’ve been here before. You need to please him again. 

Jake releases his hand from your jaw and moves it to run his fingers through the top of your head, coaxing you to get started. Gently placing your hand on his cock, you try to gently stroke him through his clothes. 

He fists your hair into his fingers, “No, no teasing. You don’t get to do that right now.” 

There would be absolutely no option for control for you. No teasing, any brattiness would come with a consequence. Jake steps back and leaves a bare spot on the carpet in between you two. His hand pushes you forward, launching your feet onto the rug, and then onto your knees. He releases his hand from your scalp and starts unzipping his pants. 

You are completely silent; compliant with his wishes. Waiting for his instructions. Your head rises to watch his cock slide out from his boxer briefs. It was daunting to see him like this, completely full, swollen even, bigger than you ever thought he was before. His right-hand grips around the solid skin, slowly stroking. His other hand reaches out to grab your cheeks, holding your mouth open in an ‘o’ shape. 

Your eyes graze up his body to meet his eyes. The chocolate brown irises are almost unrecognizable in this position. His dominating stature shines over you, completely taking over you. You can feel your excitement growing beneath you, but there is nothing you can do about that. The warmth that was blossoming between your legs would be shut until your turn if you were even allowed one. 

He loosens his grip around your jaw, resting his hand under your chin. 

His velvety tone sweeps into the air, relinquishing any uncertainty you had, “If you need me to stop,” Three taps of his fingers rap gently across your jaw, “Just do that, okay? Tap three times.”

“I won’t need to stop.”

A complete surge of neediness consumes you. You need him, you need to make him feel special, to remind him that you were going to be the woman he would never forget. You take your hands from your lap and fly them to his body. One hand grips into his thigh and the other takes its position around the base of his shaft. You nearly knock him over in the act, sending him into pure bliss. Almost taking him out of his command, shocking him with your ability to be the whore he wanted you to be. 

“Fuck…” He cries. “My fucking little slut couldn’t even wait-”

You slide your mouth as far as you can down his shaft, gagging yourself on all of him. His body shudders below your hand and you feel proud of your ability to melt him as much as he does to you. 

It doesn’t take too many wet strokes for him to finally gather himself back. His hand reoccupies the back of your head, trying to chase that same feeling again. Your mouth is shoved with as much of him as you can take, almost too much to handle. It’s worth the praise, you tell yourself. Take all of him now, and get all the rewards you can. 

“You’re taking me so well.” He says in gravely tones. 

You truly weren’t, you were choking him down, barely hanging on. Tears streaming down your eyes. You try to shoot your best doe eyes up at him, begging for him to have enough. You were reaching your limit, pushing yourself to a new maximum. 

Your head kept bobbing rhythmically against him, trying to hold him deep in your throat. You were doing things you didn’t even know your body was capable of. 

“My best little whore looks so good down there, sucking my cock.”

A swift and hard push of the back of your head launches you as far as you can take Jake, knocking your nose into his lower stomach. 

Three taps.

Fuck. You did need to stop. 

Jake slides out of your mouth as you cough heavily, gasping for air. You collapse your head, trying to stabilize yourself. Deep breaths. 

Jake tucks himself back into his pants and tries to assess the situation. He bends down to you, bringing his face down to yours; sweeping the hair out of your face. The switch was flipped, he was going into protective mode. 

“Sunshine.” He whimpers. You try to hold back your coughs and lift your head to his. He pushes the last strand of hair out of your eyes, “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, holding your breath in fear that more wheezes are going to escape. One deep breath through your nose clears the burning tickle in your throat. 

“Yes, I’m okay. Keep going.” 

His face lights up with your permission. The classic Jake smirk runs across his lips, almost a full smile revealing his excitement. 

“Good girl.” 

The words melt you. Any bit of praise was going to keep you going; it was going to make you need him more. 

He lifts you slowly back onto the bed, trying his best to be gentle only for this moment. He sprawls you out onto your back and sits next to you. 

The slowdown of all the action, the passion, is getting to you. He’s treating you like a weak girl, but you weren���t. He just took you by surprise. You wouldn’t let that one moment take away the Jake you had been craving. 

“C’mon, are you going to fuck me?” The words sputter out of you, only half confident, but still ringing strong through the air. 

Jake snaps his neck to scowl at you. There it was. 

His arm travels to your neck, holding you in place, once again choking for air, “What if I’ve had enough of you today? What then?” 

What if? Would he still be here if he did?

“You fucking want it and you know it… You’ve been thinking of it since last night. Seeing my cunt all soaked and not getting to feel it for yourself.” 

Who the fuck just said that? A month ago those words wouldn’t have even been something you would be comfortable thinking, let alone saying out loud. 

Your vile words shock Jake as well; you can feel the grip on your neck waiver a moment as he processes. And then. Well.

“You think you fucking know it all? My little slut thinks she knows me better, huh? I think it’s you that’s been craving my cock. You could barely wait your turn to fucking choke on it. You’re dying for me to fuck you. You’ve been naughty, trying to get me to take you. Being a little whore in front of me. Now you can wait.”

Jake stands up, and for a moment you’re actually worried he’s about to walk out of the room. Instead, he reaches for your left ankle and yanks it to the corner of the bed, the sheets sliding you across the mattress. 

“Shirt off.” He orders, and you comply instantly. 

He rounds the edge of the bed and grabs your wrist next, pulling it up by the pillow you slept on last night. With his other hand, he reaches deep into the side of the mattress between the bed frame and pulls out a restraint. It’s a soft cuff with velcro to hold it together. He holds it out for you so you can see. 

“Green?” He asks, eager for your answer.

“Fucking yes.”

A rip of velcro and then the cuff is wrapped around your wrist. You softly tug at the restraint, noticing it wasn’t going to be easy to break out of it, but you guess that was the point. 

Two more rips and soon your ankles are loosely restrained to the corners of the frame. You have more movement with your legs than your hand, but still would not be able to break free of the cuffs. 

He walks around the bed to the other side, surveying your naked body. Taking in each inch with his gaze. He was going to be the predator, and you the helpless prey. 

One last rip of velcro and the other cuff wraps around your wrist. Once he’s satisfied with the cuffs, he walks over to stand directly in front of you, watching you test each limb for movement. 

“What if I just left you like this? Just stood here and watched you beg for my cock.” The words are cold and cruel. You can feel the fire, no, the need burning in you with the thought of not having him. 

“No! Please, please. I need you. I want you.” You beg mercilessly. 

“So much for all that back talk before, huh? ‘Please’” He mocks. “I’m not so convinced you’re ready to be good yet.”

The need is gathering through your stomach, down between your legs. There was no way to hide the slickness that was starting; he would be able to see all of you.  

“Please!” You gasp, “I can be good, I promise sir… Just please fuck me. Fuck me, Sir!”

“Hmmm…” He drops his hands down on the mattress, staring you down, watching you writhe through the desire. “You don’t deserve anything. Trying to make me upset, trying to tease me, such a fucking whore today.”

The words coming from him are completely a facade. He knows he wants this now. He’s in too deep. He loves to see you like this, completely helpless; completely his. You have more of a say in this than he wants you to know. But you know what to do. You know the games he likes to play. 

“Please, baby. I know. I was such a bad girl… I’m a dirty slut. I fucked up. You can be mad at me, please… please just take me, I want to make you happy.” 

He watches you for a brief moment, letting the pleads hang in the air. His eyes are lit with an insatiable lust. He wanted it. He wanted it bad. He may be able to mask it with his words, but his body tells a completely different story. He pushes himself off of the mattress and begins to undress himself. Teasing you with each reveal of his tanned skin. 

First his shirt. The edges of the fabric slowly climb their way up his gorgeous soft stomach. It was like a curtain lifting at the beginning of a show, each inch elevating your excitement for the first act. 

The silence was eating at you. What was he thinking? What was he going to do…

“Please, Please…” You implore. 

Next is his zipper, slowly sliding down to once again, reveal his bulging, practically jumping cock. The sight of it is sending you into a ferality. You pull against the restraints, trying to lift yourselves towards it. Paying no mind to the forces holding you back, you try to reach for him.  

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” He growls, “So impatient.” 

Pleading moans erupt out of you. You feel like you’re being withheld from the thing you want most, well, because you are. You feel your core tightening. His sultry, teasing behavior is absolute torture. 

“I need you! I need it, please!” 

Slowly, the remainder of his clothes fall off of his body, revealing his perfect stature. His body looks like it’s carved with absolute perfection and care. Each edge is softly rounded, ready to be touched. 

He crawls across the bed, bringing his head close to your aching cunt. His breath permeates your skin. He reaches one finger up to your lower stomach, slowly dragging it from your navel to your clit. You’re whimpering with each movement he makes. 

“Is this...” He finally plants his finger firmly onto your bundle of nerves, shocking every muscle in your body, “What you want?” 

“Yes, yes, yes…” The words are echoing out of you, pressing for more. 

“You’ve been very good, surrendering to me. You know your a bad girl, right? That I’m being extremely forgiving for even taking you this far.” 

“Yes, sir…” 

His tongue crashes into you, at first wide and spreading you, then narrowing onto your needy clit. The first pass over you sends you into complete shock, you can’t do anything but feel. The restraints prevent you from being at all distracted by anything but his soft, precise movements. 

He builds his pace, tasting everything of you that he can. 

“Oh poor thing, you can’t even help it.” He teases, “You just have to take it all.” 

“I want it all…” It’s getting harder to even form sentences. All you can think about is his face on you, completely drenching you. His tongue exploring each fold, each sensitive spot. You feel the tightness, the excitement rushing through you. Your legs shaking, arms fighting against the restraints. Labored moans fighting their way out. 

“Oh, well that won’t do.” He stops everything, denying you the release you were feeling so close to, “I’m sorry sunshine, but this is for my pleasure. Remember?” 

You whine, exasperated cries spilling into the air. 

“Are you being ungrateful?” 

A flat-handed smack splays across your swollen cunt. You lift your neck to watch it all happen. The evil smirk splayed across Jake, the hand meeting your skin, the soft gasps escaping your lips. 

“Color?” He asks. 

You think for a moment, “Green.”

Another soft blow swats at you, absolutely wrecking your body. Each blow feels like a shock wave of filthy pleasure. 

“Fuck…” This moment felt so dirty. Felt so good. He always pushed you to new levels of pleasure. 

He wastes no time at this point. He can’t wait any further to feel you. He knows he can’t hold out on you any longer. 

Jake pushes himself up on the mattress and starts to slowly pump himself. A steady stream of spit falls from his lips onto his cock, lubricating himself. 

“Are you ready for this?” He asks, most likely not caring how ready you are, it just means he was ready. 

You nod your head, unable to even fathom the force he will bring to you. 

“Words.” He commands. 

You strain to focus yourself, “Please just fuck me.” 

He reaches over to the corners of the bed, releasing your ankles from the restraints, but leaving your hands in their disciplinary holds. 

He grabs your hips and lifts you to line up with him. His cock blows into you, straight to the hilt. You moan loudly, almost graphically. He squeezes his thumbs into your sides, stabilizing himself. Low grunts come through his gritted teeth.

He isn’t giving you any mercy, pounding himself into you. Each drill pushes further and further into you, breaking you in two. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” You groan. 

“Yeah? My little slut likes getting fucked like this?” He asks. 

“She’d like it a lot more if you were harder,” You reply through choked breaths. 

You don’t need to beg much for this. 

“That’s why you’re my fucking favorite.” 

Jake assumes his hand on your neck, gripping you tightly. You thought he was going hard before, but this was unreal. Each pump into you provided a harsh blow to your body. It was calculated, menacing, everything you fucking wanted. 

You feel him fill you entirely, your cunt consuming every inch of his unyielding cock. You feel yourself already losing control, building to climax. He feels so good, better than ever before. You both feel confident in each other, and you both know how to get each other to the highest high. 

“Oh, you think you deserve to come?” 

Fuck. 

“Please!” You beg. “Please sure, please.” 

He looks deeply into your desperate eyes. He can see the absolute terror of being denied. You feel like maybe he might give in, might let you get there. You know how close you are and you can feel him getting there too. You risk it all. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, holding him into you, preventing him from escaping. 

“You fucking-” 

You both gasp in unison, reaching your orgasms just moments after the other. Jake lowers himself by your ear, uttering complete pornographic moans. It feels intimate to hear him like this, to hear how happy you’ve made him. 

Your body shudders underneath him, clenching around his softening body. Your restricting hold increases every tightening muscle in your core, lifting your back completely off of the mattress. Feelings of butterflies flurry through your body, starting from your satisfied cunt, down through your legs. 

You both mix within yourself, feeling your body flood with him. 

“You fucking slut.” He chokes out. 

You giggle in his ear, “Admit it, Jake, you fucking love it.” 

Instead of feeling excitement for your destination, you just feel uneasy. You could feel the sweat slickening the steering wheel the harder you gripped it. Deep down, there was a part of you that wished you didn’t agree to go see the band. 

The last time you interacted with Josh, it left Jake feeling jealous. He truly had no right to be jealous of you just making friends. But now, there was some lingering destructive intent. You wanted him to feel that way; as petty as that was of you. You were always the one chasing after Jake, begging him for attention, begging to be the only one. That morning with the twins was your opportunity to give him a taste of how it feels to be you. 

That point didn’t entirely come off to him, instead, the argument just led to more intense angry sex. That was always going to be the best way for you two to get in the mood. 

You hate knowing that Jake can get out of any argument by getting you fired up. At least you knew that all these arguments could in theory just be your foreplay, not ever real fights. It made you feel diminished, but then again, he would always find a way to make everything up to you by the end. 

Jake and his stupid, stupid apologies were going to kill you someday.

You both knew you had work that night, so Jake opted to drive you home so you could get ready. The morning and early afternoon flew by at his house. You were quite exhausted at that point and were ready to wash away the very sinful acts that still lingered on your skin. 

You didn’t have much time to prepare yourself for the shift and had to rush through your usual routine. Shower. Brush your teeth. Get dressed. Get out the door. The whole hour went by in a blur. 

And just as usual, you pull through the cavernous parking lot of fleets and find your always unoccupied spot in the back. You still manage to arrive before Jake, whose car was missing from the lot. You turn off the engine and head into the back door. The kitchen is busy, with loud clanging and shouts emerging from behind the hallway walls. 

You drop your bag and head out to the main floor. Chris is nowhere to be seen yet, and the only other employee you can see is… of course. Mariella. 

She’s wearing this shit-eating grin talking to the regulars. You feel a wave of disgust run over you and you have to try and control yourself from letting your emotions get the best of you. The last time you saw her she was trying to fuck up your relationship with Jake, and well… She succeeded. You can’t let her do that to you. You can’t let your jealousy burn through what you have with him. He chose you, and you chose him. 

Breathe through it, let it go, and kill that bitch with kindness. 

You walk to the bar and hop under the counter, joining her behind the bar. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge you as you clock in. It all feels so middle school. You pretend she doesn’t exist, and she’ll probably do the same. 

The dishwasher beeps and you run over to start emptying the glasses. She pops her head over to look at you briefly but turns back to continue flirting with the 40-year-old in front of her. 

You’re extremely annoyed, but continue to complete your chores; well technically hers. Where the fuck is Jake? And why the fuck is she still behind the bar? 

“Hey girl,” Hearing her voice is like the equivalent of drinking lemon juice. It’s bitter, soured, and ultimately- unpleasant. 

You don’t even bother to look back at her, instead zeroing in on the steamy glasses. 

“So,” She starts, “I hope I didn’t fuck things up with you and Jake.” 

You snap your head to look at her, trying your best to display how uncomfortable you are in her presence. 

She’s so fake. Of course, she hopes she fucked things up. She manipulated you with the perfect words to turn on Jake. You continue to pull the glasses out of the dishwasher, lining them up on the counter to be put away.

“No things are fine. We talked it out. He said he’s done with all the temporary girls.” You glare back at her. 

Being petty is fun. 

“Aw, well I’m so glad to hear it babes,” She rests her hand on your shoulder and breezes past you out from behind the bar. “Oh and don’t worry, I closed out all my tabs.” 

The rage is filling in you. You felt brave at this moment, ready to settle any sort of anger you felt with her. 

“Mariella.” She stops to turn, just a few feet away from the counter. You stride over to the corner of the bar, separating you two with the counter. “What you did…” Your voice and bravery is starting to trail off when the reality of the situation was setting in, “What you did was fucked up. You knew I liked him before you did anything with him. When I finally got my chance you chose to be a backstabber and try to kill my dream. That’s not what friends do.”

Her face hasn’t changed through any of your words. A scowl is burned across her brow, “Who said we were friends?” 

Her words take you back. You thought you had been friends. You had worked at Fleets together for over a year now and had spent many nights together drinking and complaining about the shithole bar. Now she was denying it all? 

No. You can’t let her keep getting to you. You can’t let her make you second guess yourself anymore. 

“No, you don’t get to do that to me anymore Mariella. You don’t get to make me feel like shit. So what you had Jake first? So what you don’t want to be my friend? I am not jealous of you anymore, and you can’t make me feel second class just because your tits are bigger and you can seduce any of these losers in this bar. I won. I get Jake.” 

Mariella bursts out laughing, almost in tears. “Whatever! You won! Great for you. Hope you enjoy it all. Good luck with that mess of a human! I hope you’re very happy together.” 

She continues laughing to herself as she walks into the back office. 

That wasn’t the satisfying ending you wanted. 

You pull into a spot in front of the venue. The parking lot was dimly lit and full of cars. People lingered in front of the door, chatting, sharing cigarettes, waiting for something exciting to happen. 

The band had already been here for an hour or so setting up; probably having some pre-show drinks to loosen up. Even though they don’t go on for another twenty or so minutes, you decide it is better to leave earlier than to just sit idly waiting in your apartment. But now that you were here, and were early, you don’t want to go in until it’s time for their set to start. 

You feel your heart climbing into your throat. You truly didn’t think you would still get anxious over these things, but after everything that’s happened this week, it feels like walking on glass. 

You press your hands into your face and try to regulate the fear permeating through you. You try your best to flush it away, remembering you’re only here to support the band. You can’t let Jake’s jealousy control you forever. Whatever happens, happens. 

Jake walks through the back and heads towards the bar. As soon as he sees you a huge smile appears on his face. Was he actually happy to see you, or was he just thinking about what you both did just hours before? Either way, you smile back. The cheerful appearance of him is making you blush. Everything starts to feel real like never before. 

The back office door opens again and you see Mariella waltz out to the back. Chris appears in the doorway, making direct eye contact with you. Shit. Did she just tattle on you for being mean to her? Why does every interaction with her feel like high school all over again? 

Chris brings his hand up to wave you towards him, one finger inching in his direction. An audible sigh escapes your lips. Jake jostles to the bar and hops over the counter with incredible agility. 

“What the fuck?” You ask, completely perplexed at his insane amount of energy. 

He laughs, knowing how strange his action must have been. He walks past you, quickly uttering, “You make me feel like a whole new man baby.”

You would be inclined to jump onto him and mount him right there if you knew your boss wasn’t also staring you down from the other room. You try your best to acknowledge Jake, while still slipping away. 

“Oh good, you needed a new personality,” You joke, slipping out from the bar, “One sec, I’ll be right back.” 

“Screw you!” He sarcastically jeers from the POS system. 

You awkwardly jog over to the office door, letting yourself in. Chris is already back in his seat at his corner desk. He looks defeated, and well, really annoyed. His hand is sprawled across the right side of his face, holding his shaking head. You close the door behind you, trying to make him aware of your presence. 

“Sit,” he barks, pointing at the spare dining room seat opposite to him. 

You gingerly sit down on the cold wooden chair and try to sit up straight, holding yourself as professionally as you can. 

“What the fuck is going on?” His words cut the air. 

What situation is he even talking about?

“With?” You ask, surveying for him to give you more. 

Chris sighs and leans back into his chair, resting his clasped hands over his beer belly, “Listen, you’ve always been a fine employee. You show up, you do what you need to, and you leave. But I don’t deal with fucking drama. I don’t deal with he said she said, she’s dating him, he’s into her, bullshit. That’s why I put the rules in place.”

Ohhh what the fuck? What the hell is he even talking about? Mariella totally fucking tattled on you- to your boss of all people! 

You angle yourself forward, your face painted with confusion, “Okay, first off, I don’t know what to say to any of that, second of all, what rule?” 

“The no dating other employees rule.” The what? Chris continues, “Jake knew about it... I had a conversation with him about it. And yet we still have bullshit! And I really don’t fucking want bullshit.”

“Hold on, hold on,” You brace your hands out, trying to slow Chris, “Why am I just hearing of this rule now?”

Chris drops his hands, “I dont know. I just… I thought you were a lesbian.”

Your face drops and utter shock goes through your body. “Chris-”

“What? You were always hanging around Mariella and never had a boyfriend and only flirted with the ladies.” He throws his hands up trying to save this conversation he has so clearly lost. 

“Chris… Just because I’m not trying to suck face with the forty-year-old alcoholics out there, does not mean I’m a fucking lesbian.” You bury your face in your hands, completely over this entire interaction, “You have to tell all the employees the rules. Even if I was gay, what if I dated one of the other girls here?” 

“Listen… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, okay? But bottom line, Jake knew.”

“Okay,” You trail off, “So…? Sounds like you’re getting at something else here Chris.”

Chris squares himself, leaning his hands into his thighs, “Well… Either you two,” he motions with hands a cut across his throat, “You know, end it. Or, one of you has to go. We’ve had struggles with this in the past. You both are great bartenders, but that can all change when you start getting into little spats and fighting in the bar.”

Little does he fucking know… 

“So, you want me to end my relationship, which I don’t even know if it is a real relationship or not-”

Chris moans, “God. I don’t care what it is-”

“Or you want me to quit?” The words feel sour and morose. 

Chris stands up, trying to get out of the unpleasant exchange. He walks over to rest his hand on your shoulder. A sad, looming expression dawns on him. 

“Doesn’t have to be you, kid.”

He goes to open the door, letting the light of the bar flood through the office. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes. A slight choke sits at the back of your throat. Everything that has to do with Jake and you always is a fucking disaster.

Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can’t you just have it easy? Why can’t Jake just be yours and you be his? What does everyone have against you two? Is this a bigger sign that maybe he just can’t be with you?...

“Chris,” You beg, “Can I just talk to him for a few minutes?”

He shakes his fist and tries his hardest to let go of any frustration, “Fine, but make it quick I hate that regular.”

And the same as he did with you, he waves Jake over to the office. Jake tilts his head like a sad puppy and quickly jogs out from behind the bartop. He strolls into the hallway, and Chris brushes past him to go take his place. 

The tears are still welling in your eyes and you can’t quite regulate your breathing. The frustration and anger you feel for Chris’ stupid policy is mixing with the dissatisfaction of Jake once again withholding information from you. 

“Sunshine?” He asks confused. 

You grab his hand and pry him into the office, closing the door behind him.

“Sit,” You plead. 

Now the roles were reversed. You try your best to compose yourself and consume all the sad emotions that were begging you to crawl out. 

Jake sits in the same chair as you did, “What?-”

“Jake.” Breathe. Don’t take it too far, “Did Chris inform you of a certain… No dating other employees rule?” 

He shifts awkwardly in the chair, obviously trying to avoid the interrogation, “Well, yeah, but-”

“Please… Please don’t say we’re not in one, because that will fucking kill me right now.” Your voice is breaking.

He sinks back into the chair. For the first time, he seems… hurt.

“I wasn’t going to-”

“Jake if you knew, why didn’t you tell me? Now I’ve got Chris telling me one of us has to quit or we… or we… you know…”

He runs his hand through his hair and turns to face you head-on. He reaches out for your hands, and you half haphazardly return them into his grasp. 

“I didn’t want you to not consider us an option. So I didn’t say anything.”

You take your hands back from him, quickly planting them on your hips, “So you think putting my job at risk is perfectly fine? All this behind my back shit is getting pretty old Jake, and we’ve barely even been at this a few weeks.” 

He drops his head, catching the crown of his hair in his fingertips, “What the hell did you want me to do?” 

You throw your hands in the air, fumbling to even find the right answer, “I don’t know Jake! But we could’ve tried to figure this out together before I was once again blindsided by something you hid from me! Because of your mistakes, Mariella came tattling to Chris-”

He lifts his head, staring you down. His eyes are sincere yet concerned. A look you’ve never seen from him, “She what?” 

“I told her to fuck off. I finally stood up for myself and she came in here to tattle.”

Jake closes his eyes and clenches his fists softly, “She’s not the kind you attack with words sunshine.”

You shake your head, not even believing that he’s telling you that you shouldn’t have stood up for yourself, “Jake that’s beside the fucking point. Because of you now I have to choose between walking away from my job or you.” 

“You’re not seriously going to choose are you?” 

“Doesn’t sound like I have a choice. I don’t want to. I want you, but I also need a fucking job. And right now you’ve pissed me off again.” 

“Again, what the fuck was I supposed to do? Do you wish I did nothing at all?”

“No,” You retort, quick to remind him you did want this. 

He rises to his feet, trying to establish some sort of control in the conversation, “Okay, so what then? You knew we were going to be all or nothing, or at least I did. I knew I had to have you, I didn’t think the rule was going to be held up.” 

“Jake.”

He rests his hands on your shoulders, “No, don’t fucking choose. What’s he going to do?”  

“Jake I’m pretty sure he’s going to fire one of us if we don’t pick. And we’re both on thin ice here so it will ultimately be whoever he likes more…” 

Jake shakes his head and drops his hands off of you, beginning to turn towards the door, “Can’t believe it. That you’re even considering it. After everything.” 

You grab his wrist, “After what Jake? After you finally decided you wanted to be with me? After I sat waiting months for you? After you fucked my friend? After you avoided this whole situation? After what?”

He snaps his wrist back to his side and reaches for the door handle. He shoots one last distraught glance back before heading back out into the hallway. 

It was about halfway through their set before Josh jumped off the stage to rush to you. He had been waiting for the right moment to run over to you all night. Shooting you happy glances, singing to you from the stage, and even ushering Jake over to the side you were sitting on so you could see him better. 

He waited until the worst possible moment to rush over to you, during one of Jake’s solos. 

He was worse than you when it came to pushing Jake. You could push him and get away with it, you knew it was all an act. But with Josh… He thought it was all a fun game, not realizing later that you would have to defend his actions like they were your own. 

Josh grabs your hand to lift you out of your seat, so eager to get you on your feet. The chair that you previously occupied clatters behind you. The crowd is completely distracted by Josh, and well, you. He swoops you close to him and soon your feet are moving along to the beat, jumping around with Josh in a flurry of happiness. 

Usually, you only had the enjoyment of watching live music, never participating in it. Here, you were now a part of this moment with them, and the one you wanted most to be happy for you, would clearly find this all too much. 

Josh grabs your hand and spins you around him, moving charismatically, so smoothly; quite romantically. If people were looking, they might think that Josh was the one you were with. Jake’s playing gets more technical with each moment, trying to win back the crowd’s attention, but everyone is watching his twin and you, swirling in a passionate dance on the bar floor. 

A smile is lit across your face; you’ve never had this much fun before, ever. There’s just enough whiskey in your system to completely evaporate any fear, or really notice the crowd cheering you on. You lower your hand across Josh’s waist, and he matches you, squeezing into your hip. You both circle each other, intoxicated in the glow of the moment. 

Jake’s solo slowly clamors to an end, and Josh realizes his cue to run back to the stage. He drops his hand from you and places a fragile kiss on your cheek before rushing back up to the mic. 

The crowd erupts in drunken cheers and you turn to notice the gathering they had made around the floor. They’re on their feet, clapping, enthusiastic about the thrilling moment. You awkwardly curtsey to the group and make your way back to your seat, picking it back up off the ground. 

The spirit of the moment quickly is burned when you look up and see Jake is not matching your excitement. A looming, angered glare is searing through any happiness you feel. He’s barely paying attention to the music, instead, steaming on the side of the stage. Gripping the guitar so tightly you fear it would break with any tighter hold. 

Shit. 

“Chris, can… I’m sorry can we just work this shift and figure it out tonight? I just want to do my job right now.”

Another classic Chris grunt and he waves you off, “Go. It’s gotta happen though. One of the choices.”

“Yes, yes I know,” You grovel, hoping that if you can’t come to a decision, he won’t be picking you to go. 

You rush back over to the bar and continue the chores you had left earlier. Of course, Chris didn’t bother picking up any slack, and neither did Jake. 

The thoughts are unraveling in your mind now. The control you had tried to exert is slowly withering away. Even though you had felt far more tough lately, you still couldn’t completely swallow the soft, emotional side of you. 

What the hell kind of choice is this? Lose your job or lose the boy you fought everything and everyone to have? Why does the universe fucking hate you?! 

Your body felt weighed, completely exhausted by all the drama and all the decisions. If you didn’t have responsibilities outside of this relationship, you would instantly pick Jake, but you can’t risk not having any income. You were a girl alone. No rich mommy or daddy to come to save you when you needed it most. You had given all of that up. No friends that could save you, they were miles away back home. You hate to admit it, but you were truly alone here. 

Sure, you had people, but no one that would be willing to take in a stray. Jake had his brother, he had more than you. It wasn’t fair to compare, but you were thinking it. 

He doesn’t seem to want to give you up either, at least that’s how it feels. He was heartbroken; defeated in that office. Just as sad as you. 

“Coming through-” Jake strides past you, holding onto three drinks, carefully balancing them in his hands, until he’s not. 

You turn to move, not realizing how close he was to you and knock your arm into his, sending the drinks flying over the front of your shirt. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim. 

Jake matches your sentiment, “Oh, shit.” 

You quickly run to grab a rag from the shelves behind the counter, trying to soak up the sticky liquid as fast as you can, before any stains set in. 

“Foul!” Yells one of the nasty regulars.

“Dude, shut up.” Jake retorts, rushing over to assist you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

“It’s fine.” You don’t mean to be harsh, but in that moment all you could do was try to get him away. You didn’t want to think about him, about the situation, about any of it. You just wanted to get back to work. 

“This is Danny, and this is Sam,” Josh introduces the two other members of the band. 

You all gathered around the corner booth at the bar after the set. Jake had been avoiding you, taking his time to pack all of his things. The other boys were far less concerned with cleaning up, and headed straight to the bar, well straight to you. 

“Ohhh, so you’re the mysterious girl we’ve been hearing all about, huh?” Sam crosses his arms over his chest, surveying you, trying to be funny. 

“Oh yes, I’m very mysterious,” You joke back. 

Josh chuckles, “She isn’t one bit mysterious Sam, Jake is just always very vague with his lover’s darling. He doesn’t like to kiss and tell.”

You swallow back a large gulp of Jameson Ginger, “Oh yeah. I’m well aware.” 

Danny echoes into the conversation, trying to eagerly get in, “So how long have you two?...”

“Not long.”

“Oh,” Sam ponders, “I thought. Well, he’s been talking about a bartender for a-”

Josh shoots Sam a concerned look, trying to shut him up.

He knew? Did he know about Mariella? 

“Oh no, I’m not the only bartender,” Your comment is snide and condescending. You hope it’s not making a fool of yourself, but you want everyone to know the games Jake likes to play. 

You feel the alcohol finally hitting you now, maybe you didn’t realize it before, but standing with them for that short few moments was turning your mind into rubber. 

“Sam, c’mon. He’s your brother, you know how he is.” Danny whispers to Sam. 

Shit. Not another brother. 

“Was.” You correct, holding your finger out at Danny, “Let’s hope it’s was.” 

“Yes Mama,” Josh puts his hand on your shoulder, he turns to face the boys, “We like her, so we’re going to hope it’s ‘was’.”

“Where did he even go?” You ask, slurring your words slightly. 

Sam shrugs his shoulders, and is the first to sit in the booth, “I don’t know but I’m not waiting around for him to have any fun!”

“I like your thinking!” Josh exclaims, jumping in the booth beside Sam. 

Danny corrals on the other side of Sam, and Josh pats the empty seat next to him. Fuck. 

You cautiously slide into the booth next to Josh, trying to leave ample space between the two of you. 

The boys are like classic best friends. Danny and Sam seem to have a great bond, completely forgetting the fact that they aren’t blood brothers. They act like they’ve known each other their whole life. Their outfits are almost matching, both in patterned jeans and snug-fitting plain shirts. Their hair is just about the same length, except Danny’s is curly and wild, and Sam’s is sleek and flowing; similar to Jake's.

Josh is clearly the eccentric one of the group, sporting some sort of animal skin vest and low-rise dark wash jeans. He has on so much jewelry it jingles with each movement he makes. He’s practically wearing a tambourine with all the clangs. 

They all speak amongst themselves, raving about the set, the crowd, parts they think they nailed, and parts they want to work on more. It was a nice break for you to just enjoy being there with them, getting to know them just by watching. You were picking their brains without them even realizing that you were doing so. 

The two brothers fake-bickered with each other. Similar to how Josh and Jake would torment each other, but in a much more playful and innocent manner. You could see Jake in both of them, in different ways. Josh, well because they were twins, they shared eerily identical expressions. Josh just carried all of them in a more lighthearted way. Sam, on the other hand, you could see Jake’s sass within him. 

Just as you are finally ready to find a way to sneak into their fun, a presence joins you at the booth. You can feel the heat radiating off of him as he slides into the spot next to you, pushing everyone further down in the booth. His hand reaches over to your thigh, grasping it tightly, marking his territory. 

“Hi, Sunshine.” He grits through labored breaths. 

“Welcome!” Josh roars, “Glad to finally see you joining us!”

“Well, someone had to talk to the manager- who by the way, was very impressed by our performance. He wants us back next month.” Jake says these words as if they aren’t even exciting at all. 

“Oh! That’s awesome!” You cheer, looking around at all the boys. 

Their faces light up with victory, and they immediately start cheers-ing each other. 

Josh nudges your shoulder, “It was most definitely our dancing Mama! That energy got the whole crowd going! You’re our good luck charm.” 

You blush at Josh’s kind words, “Wherever you guys go, I’ll be there to cheer you on…” 

You drop your hand to the table, showing the boys you’re in this with them. They all take turns grabbing your arm and showing their appreciation. 

“Yeah, they really loved you.” Jake sneers. 

The sarcasm is lost on Sam, who pipes up, “Yeah they were all cheering for you guys! It was awesome, they stayed standing the rest of the set!”

Danny nudges Sam and whispers in his ear. Danny is like Sam’s conscious, warning him of all the sourness that is happening at the table. Sam awkwardly smiles. 

Jake pulls your drink from your loose grip and finishes the remainder of it. You shoot him a disgusted glance, furrowing your brow harder than you thought you possibly could. 

The boys all sit in silence, watching this awkward interaction.

Josh is quick to break the ice, like always, “So next time, maybe we can coordinate something? A little moment just for us?”

You turn to him, trying to warn him not to say that in front of Jake. But it’s too late for that. Jake grips your thigh, hard, nearly breaking through your jeans. 

“It’s not her band.” He snaps. 

“Yes Jake, I know it’s not my band,” You crack. 

“I liked your dancing!” Danny encourages, “You were really good!”

You grin back at Danny, thanking him with your expression. 

Josh jumps back into his own conversation, “Ok, but imagine, if we did that spinning thing again, but we lined it up with-” 

“Maybe you can take up one of your solos to dance with her.” Jake is being completely rude. You know the cause of it all. You know why he’s so ill-mannered. You try your best to forgive him but know there’s too much brash to go unnoticed by the others. 

“Josh, let’s think about this another time, okay? Let’s enjoy the victory of the night for now,” You turn to Jake, “Jake, we were just playing around okay?”

Jake rolls his eyes and leans back into the booth. He takes his hand from your thigh and rests both of his wrists on the table, fiddling with the callouses on his fingers. Josh nods his head and finally gets the point. 

Danny jumps up from the booth, excusing himself to go grab some more drinks. The table’s vibe has completely changed, instead of excited conversation, it’s mute. Sam is paying attention to the music playing over the speakers, tapping along to the beat. Josh is trying to get his drink down as fast as he can. And Jake… Is being Jake. 

His mood has been absolutely horrible. All because you chose to have fun. How rude of you.

“Hey,” You poke at him, “You don’t need to be like this right now. You have so much to celebrate!” 

“Oh yeah, let me celebrate that my girlfriend wants to be around everyone here but me.” He growls under a low breath. 

“Jake,” You comfort, “I came here for you, I’m excited for you.” 

“No.” Jake raises himself, and turns his head, angling towards you, “I do believe Josh, is the one that invited you. And if I’m not mistaken, you two were the ones dancing during my solo. Oh and also, it wasn’t you that came to see me after I finished up, it was the drunk old bar manager.” 

“Jake…” This time it isn’t you trying to calm him down, it’s Josh. He’s protecting you. 

“Fuck you Josh, you do this shit on purpose, trying to piss me off.” 

The tension is starting between the two, and you’re quite sure those heavy sips weren’t helping the situation at all. 

“Hey! Need I remind you, who was the one who-”

“Shut up.” 

You glance your head between the two of them, confused. Jake drops his head and turns away from Josh. Josh swirls the ice around in his cup, trying to avoid eye contact with you. 

“Josh…” You pry, “What did you do?” 

“Don’t,” Jake interjects, trying to hold off Josh. 

What the hell was going on? What sort of fucked up twin telepathy was happening. 

“No, no,” You scold, “Maybe I should ask what the fuck you did Jake? Huh?” 

Sam slowly tries to crawl out of the booth, avoiding whatever is about to go down. 

Josh crosses his arm, trying to yield to Jake, “He did nothing.” 

“Okay?” Your voice is shaky, trying to understand if this even involved you. This drunk version of you was trying any way to find out more. “Clearly someone did something.” 

Jake lifts his head, staring down Josh, almost pleading with his eyes to keep quiet. 

“Josh…”

You turn yourself to block Jake’s eyeline, lining yourself up with Josh. 

“Is it about me?” You ask, imploring. Hoping that his answer would be no. 

Josh sighs and drops his arms, bracing himself on either side of his legs. He takes a long breath. 

His silence confirms it all for you. 

Jake echoes in your ear, “Don’t worry about it.”

You scowl back to Jake, “No more hiding shit Jake.” 

He reaches his hand up to his mouth, trying to find the right words to say. Before he even has a chance, Josh lets it spill out. 

“Jake wasn’t going to go back to you.” 

He could have stabbed you in that moment and the feeling would have been the same. 

“Fuck! Josh!” Jake yelps. 

Your heart drops. Jake fighting him is proof enough that what Josh said was true. You turn to Jake, tears welling in your eyes. 

“What…” You push Jake’s shoulder, “the fuck,” another push, “does that mean?”

You feel your whole body shaking with anxiety. The alcohol is climbing up your throat; tears starting to fall from your eyes. 

Josh grabs your hand, trying to prevent you from hitting Jake any further. 

“Mama, listen. He just didn’t think you wanted him anymore. I went over to talk to him about it and told him he should try again.” 

You turn to snap at Josh but feel horrible even thinking about being mean to him. He was honest with you, trying to help. 

“So, but…” You feel absolutely defeated, “So if you hadn’t said anything he wouldn’t have…?”

Jake turns completely away from the two of you, dropping his head into his hands, trying to breathe through it. 

“You fucking ruin everything, Josh. You always get to be the sun. You always get to save the day.” 

You turn to Jake, cautious to defend Josh, “Jake you need to tell me what happened.” 

Jake doesn’t turn back to you. Josh tries to grab your hand one last time, silently asking you to go easy on Jake. 

“Why wouldn’t you come back?” Your voice is breaking completely now. The rush of emotions is piling through you, breaking your heart all over again. 

Knowing he didn’t want to come back felt like it was all your fault. You were the one who turned him away before knowing the entire story. But also, you had a right to be upset. The juxtaposition of it all was fucking with you. Who was right? 

Jake is still silent, holding himself up in his palms. You turn back to Josh, begging for any sort of help. His hands rest on his cheeks, realization setting in of what he did. He went too far. Twins weren’t meant to be this damaging to each other. The public tension of it all was awkward, pushing each other too far. 

“What’d I miss!” Danny perkily walks over to the table, holding everyone’s choice of drinks. Sam’s trying to hide behind him, knowing what situation he left. 

You pout through the tears, showing Danny that he didn’t miss anything too good. 

You rise from your seat, standing on the wooden bench, climbing over Josh to leave the booth. You pat the two best friends on the shoulder, apologizing through silent chokes of your tears. 

Sam gingerly hands you your next round, placing the glass in your hand, and patting your knuckles. You awkwardly smile back at him, thanking him for the drink. 

You take a hefty swig and place the remainder of the drink in front of Jake, “Here… Unlike you, I don’t like putting good things to waste.”

The boys all wince through their teeth, and Jake jolts up to scowl at the boys. 

You secretly run past the booth and into the dark bathroom in the back of the bar. 

The shift is by no means easy. The two of you are in the worst rhythm you’ve ever had. Even on your first shift together, it was like magic. You could almost sense each other coming, you were good at trading off tasks. Tonight…. Was not that. 

Jake screwed up three orders, and you took two more drinks to the chest. Each time exclaims were made between the both of you, and patrons took it upon themselves to call out. The understanding for your bodies that you had just hours earlier was completely gone, completely out of sync. 

Usually, it would just be you struggling with your own thoughts, but you could tell the weight of the situation was sitting heavy on Jake. You had left things in a horrible, but justified place. You didn’t exactly feel bad for what you said, because, well it was the truth. So what Jake had to give up a booty call? You were the one that got the shit end of the stick every time. 

The bathroom was full of women. They were all slightly older than you, and mostly concerned with their friends who were far too drunk, or paying attention to how their makeup was holding up. 

You snuck through them, trying to find the one empty stall. You closed the door behind you and quickly locked it, stowing yourself away. The echoes of their voices melted with the loud music vibrating on the walls. 

Fuck.

What the hell? 

He couldn’t even look at you. 

He couldn’t even admit it. 

Why wouldn’t he come back? 

Well… You did kind of end that last night on bad terms. During that entire week, you wanted to run back to him; but you didn’t. He just needed a push. But what if he never got that push? What if he never showed up to tell you what actually happened… 

He never even tried to explain himself at the bar. He just kept trying to get you going. He can’t admit when he’s wrong. Does he have to be persuaded into being nice? Not entirely. Not all the time… 

Chris is about ready to lock up. He does his usual survey of all the surfaces, walking laps around each table, around the counters, really just pretending to look at everything. There really weren’t any expectations for the cleanliness of each table. He was actually just waiting for one of us to say something to him. For one of us to have decided. 

It was the stupidest fucking rule known to man. It’s a bar. People are bound to start fucking each other. Thats life. 

Jake and you had not broached the subject any further. There was no time and no further discussion to be had yet. It was the worst decision for either of you to make. It was utterly ridiculous. You didn’t expect Jake to give up his job either and almost started to believe that this was some sort of ending.

You tried not to think about it too much. Tried not to let that reality set in until you knew it for a fact. 

One last swipe of the counter, and you had completely cleaned up. Jake on the other hand was sweeping the floors, trying not to clean up in the same area. You try your hardest not to keep staring at him, but you want so badly for him to look at you. You want to figure this out… together. 

He places the large broom at the corner of the bar and strides over to Chris. You’re watching it play out in front of your eyes like a movie. You pretend to be distracted at the POS, but sneaking glances over your shoulder. 

Chris runs his hand over Jake’s shoulder and gives him a firm shake. Jake drops his head and nods. Reaching up to pat Chris’ hand. And just like that it’s over. 

What… What happened? 

Jake strides out of the bar, avoiding your eye contact, and slowly disappearing into the hallway. 

Oh, what the fuck? 

This is it. This is the end. Jake is giving you up. This wouldn’t be a romance novel. He wouldn’t run to you and lift you up, he wasn’t going to kiss you like no one was watching. He was just going to walk away, again. 

You throw your hands up, staring down Chris, trying to emulate ‘what the fuck’ with your body language. 

Chris mopes over to the counter, dragging out the moment as long as possible. He plops himself down on the stool in front of you, clasping his hands on the bar. 

“Go home. See you on Monday this week, kid.” 

So wait… He just… 

“Wait… What the fuck just happened?” You’re completely flustered, almost not believing what this means. 

“Jake quit. Go home. Talk to him.” 

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