#(though it was far from the “original hippies” from the 60s)

[mayplantstarrwaters]

teenagers are always fun and wear fashionable clothes you guys just hate to see the younger generation having fun without you

[omgthatdress]

I have a lot of feelings about Julie’s collection. After the election of Richard Nixon, the deaths of Janis Joplin, Jimmi Hendrix, and Jim Morrison, and then the Manson murders, the peace and love happy hippie 60s had given way to the dirty, strung-out scumbag 70s. Even though Julie is living in San Francisco, the hippie era had long since passed by 1974. As Hunter S. Thompson beautifully put it in Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas:

“There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . . And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . . So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.””

I love the hippie aesthetic. I get that AG would want to have a doll that reflects that. A lot of Julie’s story revolves around her fighting for environmentalism, which is one of the aspects of hippie culture that managed to stick around, largely because of backlash to the consumerism of the 50s. But in Julie’s collection there’s plenty of times when her looks lean too far into the 60s and miss the mark of the 70s. As much as I appreciate AG doing the hippie thing, an accurate collection for the 70s would drag us to polyester hell and never let go. The 70s are one of those special eras in fashion where everything is ugly as fuck. The fashion of the 60s was much more aesthetically pleasing, but the fashion of the 70s is ironically appealing. It’s so ugly you love it. It’s ridiculous. It’s camp.

Granted, the fridge that was 1974 fashion still had plenty of hippie leftovers in it, and her original meet look with its crochet cap, embroidered tunic, and fringe belt feel true to the era.

Hand crafts like knitting and crochet had a resurgence in popularity, so I’m glad that both collections have a knitted accessory.

Part of the history lesson Julie gives is that Title IX meant schools could no longer forbid girls from wearing pants, so that’s why Julie is in jeans.

Julie’s BeForever look is straight 60s hippie. The inspiration seems to be Janis Joplin, who had been dead for four years:

AG seems to be wanting to have it both ways with Julie, and I honestly wish they’d just commit to the 70s:

On another note, the 70s would have been a great chance to have another doll of color (American Indian Movement, much?), but they went with a White girl with blonde hair. Which honestly I kiiind of get. Like if I were going to select ONE decade of the 20th century to have a blonde doll, it would be the 70s. I cannot emphasize enough how ubiquitous long blonde hair was to 70s pop culture.

For an era that still claimed to be progressive, the 70s were whitebread as hell. Outwardly there was women’s lib, civil rights, and the sexual revolution, but inwardly, the 70s were an extremely conservative decade when Jerry Falwell and the Moral Majority were just starting to lay their slimy hooks into the American political system. It’s a decade of contradictions and extremes that I wish AG would fully commit to.

[polyamorouspunk]

If you’re like me, you’ve probably heard of “skinheads” being racist. You might have also heard that not ALL of them are racist. So, what’s the deal?

Out of curiosity and not being able to sleep, I did a quick Wikipedia read.

It’s probably not news to you that there are distinct generations of punk. We’re, of course, in our own.

The skinhead movement started in the late 50s. This is where you get your work boots, straight pants, etc. look. Only, they weren’t skinheads just yet. This movement was known as “mods”, “a youth subculture noted for its consumerism and devotion to fashion and music”. The consumerism part doesn’t sound a whole lot like punk today, but the “devotion to fashion and music” sure does.

From there in the late 60s there was a split between “peacock mods”, or those who were more into the latest fashion, according to Wikipedia, and the more traditional working-class image of punks denoted by their shorter hair. It’s not entirely sure if the cutting of hair was more for defiance against “mainstream” hippie culture or for ease’s sake as a working class, but I suspect it’s probably a mix of both and so much more.

From there the skinhead movement became heavily influence by Jamaican culture, which is extremely fascinating! Around this time there was also a break off group in Australia.

In the 70s skinhead culture, which originally was said to be apolitical, started diverging into other groups. However, late 70s is where the punk movement we think about today really kicked off. This is where some skinheads started joining up with far-right groups. It doesn’t really say why, though.

From here we narrow in our focus away from Britain and the United States towards Germany, which has a big cultural impact in the punk scene. In West Germany factions of neo-nazi groups and anti-fascist groups were at arms. In East Germany two factions were also forming: one focused on the aesthetics of punk and one focusing on the ideals of punk. Gone were the days of apolitical skinheads in Germany.

Going back to the UK, in the late 70s and early 80s, however, there WAS a group of apolitical skinheads. These were characterized by the Oi! subgenera of punk.

In other parts of Europe, groups of skinheads seemed to be left-wing and antiracist since it’s original conception in the 60s. There’s also mention of racism from both black and white skinheads against South Asians in the UK.

From this, though, grew fractions that were vocally anti-racist, notably “redskin” and “anarchist” skinheads. The use of the word “redskin” is interesting, looking back from today’s perspective and how the term has been historically used over here in the United States with racism against Native Americans, and the push to remove the word from popular American Culture, like in sports teams.

It was skinheads, actually, who supposedly brought the term “ACAB”, or “All Cops Are Bastards” into popular usage, from a punk song.

And so, I bring us to today: where neo-nazism is still alive and well, and goes hand-in-hand with antiblackness, and so much more. I think these days we use neo-nazism as a broad term for people who are loudly outspoken against more than just violence against Jews, however, it’s important to realize that violence and discrimination against Jews is the biggest and core part of neo-nazism.

We look back at the legacy of a movement we’re trying to uphold today, but a movement at it’s core is just people. People laughing, people drinking, people smoking, people just being people. So… how do we tell what is okay to reblog and what isn’t?

Well, some things are obvious, at least. Does someone have a swastika? If so, is it crossed out, or is it displayed prominently. See the word “nazi”? What’s the context around it?

Somethings are less obvious. Lace code. Patches that reference things from long ago. What bands you’re listening to, what local underground movements you’re supporting. These are less obvious to know the history of, to the average tumblr blogger in 2023.

So what can we do?

Well. We can learn the history for starters. I’m not saying we need to go and learn about every particular subculture and band and movement and code and this and that and-

But you can Wikipedia the history of a movement you’re not really sure about. That’s a start, at least. You can learn some terms, “buzzwords”, if you will. Learn what some symbols you see often mean. Learn what bands the antifacist punks were listening to and what bands the racist punks were listening to. It’s a start.

You can also talk to people who still identify with the skinhead movement here on tumblr or in real life if you can find them. Get their opinions and see what they think. Hear what they’re saying and decide for yourself what you want to support. You should do that for pretty much any movement, not just skinheads.

Today it seems like skinheads have a gay subculture. Was that a part of history that’s been largely ignored or erased? Or is that something that’s come about in more recent years?

The punk movement is a very broad one with lots of overlapping cultures and subcultures and branches off- a great way to see that is simply falling down a rabbit hole of tumblr blogs or Wikipedia articles. It’s easier than ever to see all the parts of something. But that can make it overwhelming. It’s okay to break it down as needed.

Source

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Baby Boomer Classics: Folk Sixties 1985 Folk

Alright, folks, it looks like we have a pretty bad one here today with this small collection of folk fare from the 60s. Basically, outside of one song, which I'll get to a little later, this LP from the otherwise largely good and broadly eclectic Baby Boomer Classics series is definitely not worth your time. And I'm certainly no hater of folk music from this era in general—although I could live without hearing "This Land Is Your Land" or "Little Boxes" ever again—but there is one predominant strain of 60s folk that I happen to absolutely loathe. And it's that stuff that was so freaking over-the-top hippy-dippy-happy that you'd think the bands that were performing it were countercultural bizarro versions of The Stepford Wives or something, but for music. Their dispositions were simply too sunny, their smiling was too excessive, and at the end of the day, you get the feeling that the people that were making this stuff had actually been indoctrinated into some kind of creepy new age cult 😵.

But this stuff really played, man. For example, a totally excruciating song on here that exemplifies this mind-numbing style of 60s folk is "Don't Let the Rain Come Down (Crooked Little Man)," by a group whose name alone is too on the nose for you to believe that they actually existed: The Serendipity Singers 😩. Now, it's one thing for this awful song to exist in some little, whimsical, Bohemian niche as a piece of forgotten ephemera, but this thing was actually a top-ten hit in the US, and it also landed a Grammy nom too! And listening to it is so uncomfortable that it makes me want to tear my hair out!!!

But now, on to the only tune on this comp that I thoroughly enjoyed listening to: "There but for Fortune," by the legendary Joan Baez. With a lovely vibrato appended to the end of most lines, and a pretty acoustic guitar melody to match, this intimate and heartfelt song sends a basic and universal message that could always use more hearing, especially in turbulent times such as these; and it's to have empathy and not ridicule or judge others, because 'there but for fortune,' it could very well be you who was born into a circumstance that'd leave you currently sitting in a prison cell, homeless, suffering from addiction, or having your home bombed. This song was originally written in 1963 by another folk legend, Phil Ochs, but Baez' version from '64 proved the most popular, reaching #50 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and earning itself a Grammy nom for Best Folk Recording. And clearly, it's still very much relevant to this day.

But other than that one song, this album unfortunately just sucks. Stuff is either insufferable like that Srendipity Singers tune, overplayed, or just comparably lackluster when put up against 60s folk juggernauts like Joan Baez herself. I've been slowly sifting through this Baby Boomer Classics series over the past month and change with few criticisms to levy, but this is by far the worst thing I've heard from it so far. And even though I don't write much about folk music from this golden era of revivalism in particular, a comp like Warner's Storytellers: Singers & Songwriters from 1987, which has the likes of Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, Arlo Guthrie, John Prine, Phil Ochs, and others on it, serves much better than this record that pulls from a similar time period.

Highlights:

Joan Baez - "There but for Fortune"

[disappointingyet]

Pauline Black: A 2-Tone Story

Director Jane Mingay Stars Pauline Black, Arthur ‘Gaps’ Hendrickson, Mykaell Riley, Don Letts UK 2024 Language English 1hr 30mins Colour, black & white

Fan? You’ll be happy. Not a fan? Stick around for compelling stuff about race relations in postwar Britain 

I’m not (entirely) stupid: I’m aware that the reason there are quite so many one-artist or one-band music documentaries – other than to fill the schedules of BBC4 and Sky Arts (and whatever their equivalents are in other countries) – is to satisfy fans of those acts. And so in many cases, if you watch these films without being at least mildly obsessive about the band, you should do so with the awareness that you are not the intended audience. Of course, there documentaries that transcend that, because (for instance) the filmmakers capture something out of the ordinary when interviewing the act – eg, Bros: After The Screaming Stops – or sometimes because the story is genuinely riveting – eg, if the subject matter is Fleetwood Mac. But those are rarities. So I know that when I watch these documentaries – and I watch a preposterous number – and judge them on their filmmaking, there’s a degree of perversity. But I’ll keep doing it just the same.

Pauline Black, if you’ve read this far and don’t happen to know, was/is the lead singer of The Selecter. The Selecter were a band on 2 Tone Records, a late 1970s/early 1980s label from Coventry whose bands updated Jamaican music* from the 1960s with a post-punk sensibility. Both the musical elements and the line-up of the bands tended to include black and white culture/people, hence 2 Tone. The Selecter were by personnel, though not necessarily by sound, the blackest of the 2 Tone bands, featuring only one white bloke. And The Selecter (present tense) are a fixture on the heritage pop circuit. 

Pauline Black: A 2-Tone Story is an utterly conventional documentary told through talking head interviews, filming with Black in the present day and archive footage. There’s nice use of split screens and the talking head bits are elegantly shot in b&w, but there’s nothing structurally fancy.

Fortunately, the film has a lot going for it. Firstly, Black herself is charismatic and opinionated. Secondly, the pre-fame stuff is really interesting. Thirdly, Black’s moment of fame was fleeting, so you don’t get the deadly stuff about ‘then our next album was a real change of direction.’ A bit of reading after watching this reveals that the re-formed Selecter have released loads of albums but sensibly, the film doesn’t cover them at all. Instead, we spend a lot of time with Black’s experience as a biracial kid adopted by white parents in the very white Essex of the 1950s and ‘60s, and her time as a hippy singer-songwriter (I wasn’t expecting that). I had assumed that because The Selecter were a Coventry band, she must have come from the Midlands, but no, she was there as a student. The film doesn’t remark on the fact that at absolutely no other moment in British cultural history would having moved to Coventry set you up for fame.

Just as fascinating is the immediate post-Selecter period when lots of people felt that Black was a natural star and kept giving her not-quite-right opportunities. 

Wisely, we skip from late 1980s to the present day, with Black touring as The Selecter with two other original members, one of whom, Arthur ‘Gaps’ Hendrickson, sadly died during the filming of this documentary.

Assorted experts also testify. There’s a bloke who wrote a book about 2 Tone – he’s very annoying and does the unforgivable thing of using the present tense when describing historical events. Fortunately, there are some reliably good commentators on hand, specifically Don Letts and Mykaell Riley. We get a thankfully short burst of celeb fan Damon Albarn. 

So: did this film tell me stuff I didn’t know beforehand and that I’m glad that I do now? Yes. If you had no previous knowledge of Pauline Black and The Selecter, would watching it leave you with a clear idea of how they slot into British cultural (and to some extent, political) history? I think so. Is there plenty of good archive that helps you understand what Coventry in 1980 looked and sounded like? Again, yes. Is Pauline Black a person who holds your attention when she speaks? Yes. 

Put all that together and I’d say that conventional as it is, this is still a film I’d feel comfortable recommending to the mildly curious rather than just people in Crombie coats and trilbies. 

*A pedant writes: people talk about these as ‘ska bands’ but the songs they covered or used for inspiration included plenty that would be considered rocksteady or early reggae rather than ska. (By the way, if you have seen this film, enjoyed it and are a UK TV license payer, then you might be interested that some of the best archive in it comes from a 1980 BBC Arena programme you can find on the iPlayer) I saw Pauline Black: A 2-Tone Story at the 2024 London Film Festival

[moorheadthanyoucanhandle]

DIAL, THOUGH YOUR HEART IS ACHING...

Opening this weekend:

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny--The first sound we hear is the ticking of a clock. Thus the fifth and valedictory entry in the series about Harrison Ford's globetrotting, whip-cracking archaeologist establishes Time, and its persistent shadow, Mortality, as the theme.

The movie starts with a lengthy and rather splendid act set in France in 1944, with Ford made young via some impressive CGI alchemy. Indy and a brilliant sidekick (Toby Jones) are snooping around a mountain stronghold, trying to filch back some artifacts from the plunder of retreating Nazis, among them a coldly businesslike SS Colonel (Thomas Kretschman) and a reptilian physicist (Mads Mikkelsen) who identifies the title gadget, a clockwork contraption built by Archimedes himself that supposedly can be used for time travel.

From here we fast forward to New York in the late '60s, where Indy is a grumpy and bereaved old man on the verge of retirement from teaching, separated from his beloved Marion, annoyed by the Beatles blasting from the hippie pad neighboring his cluttered apartment. His goddaughter Helena (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), who he affectionately refers to as "Wombat," pulls him into one more adventure, chasing the Dial from Tangiers to the floor of the Mediterranean to Sicily. The unrepentant Nazi prof, who went on to help NASA get to the moon, is looking for the Dial too, with his murderous goons.

The first Indy flick, 1981's Raiders of the Lost Ark, is a favorite of mine; tight and witty and curiously modest, it genuinely felt like a Republic serial of the '40s, maybe directed by William Witney. It was also built around a terrific Jewish joke, with its Nazis arrogantly supposing they could co-opt cosmic Jewish power unscathed. The lavish, overstuffed sequels were enjoyable enough, but all of them fell far short, for me, of that snappy, surefooted original.

Dial of Destiny falls short of the original too, but even so it may be the best of the sequels. It's the first that Steven Spielberg didn't direct; the duties here went to the always proficient James Mangold, who was also among the many screenwriters. And for the first half--the 1944 scenes, and the stuff in '60s-era New York, with Indy on the run against the backdrop of war protestors and astronaut ticker-tape parades--it's sensational.

The trouble is that, like so many contemporary blockbusters, it's outrageously overlong, at least thirty or forty minutes longer than it really needs to be. As MacGuffins go, the Dial doesn't have the same stirring imaginative power and poetry as the Ark, and its implications get the narrative in a little over its head in the later acts. For a story that starts with urgent ticking, the movie manages time very poorly.

Still, there's a lot to like here. Ford is wonderfully on point. He seems to have grown into the curmudgeonly manner that's always been part of his persona, but he's also emotionally present to a surprising degree, truly connecting with the other characters. Mikkelsen is a top-notch, quietly megalomaniacal villain, and Toby Jones, Antonio Banderas and John Rhys-Davies could all have warranted more screen time as Indy's allies, as could Shaunette Renée Wilson as an exasperated U.S. intelligence agent. Ethann Isidore is likable as Helena's street urchin pal.

Maybe best of all is Waller-Bridge's Helena--headlong, fearless, smiling, eyes full of self-delighted mischief. She even shows a hint or two of lewdness, welcome in this largely asexual series. It would be okay with me if they gave her more movies.

Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken--At the very least, one must admit that this is a take on teen angst we haven't seen before. Ruby and her family are Krakens, the fearsome tentacled sea creatures of Nordic lore, but they're passing themselves off as humans; Ruby's Mom has a good career as a realtor in a seaside town. Ruby is under orders never to get wet in the ocean, lest her giant Kraken-ness be revealed to her classmates. This means she's forbidden to go to prom, as it's being held on a boat.

Soon enough Ruby (voiced by Lana Condor) learns that her Mom (Toni Collette) and her Grandma (Jane Fonda) are giant Kraken as well, and their backstory includes a feud with the mermaids. Indeed, the story is sort of The Little Mermaid in reverse, with many of the same psychological and sexual subtexts at work. And like an earlier DreamWorks Animation effort, Shrek, the snarky shots at Disney are amusing, in an inside-baseball way.

This movie has a glitzy, primary-color sensibility, like a fever dream after bingeing on My Little Pony and Powerpuff Girls and eating too much cioppino. And it feels about that ephemeral. But it's a sweet-natured fish tale, and undeniably original.

[neechees]

Ok ok about your post about cultural appropriation and stealing from Native Americans. I'm almost curious how much of this was influenced by the English specifically. Like, the English hated the Native Americans and Celts (idk enough about Vikings and Old Norse, though), seeing both of them as barbaric. So I wonder if the English went "Natives are barbaric, we're going to depict Celts like this, too"? And then this mentality caught fire and now we have what we have today. Do you think this might play into it?

I'm not sure how much of it exactly would be the English specifically. But one example I can think of that influenced many other things would be Tolkien and some of his worldbuilding, which later influenced many many other fantasy works, specifically his depiction of Orcs, some of the human cultures, the Elves in some ways (The Avari, specifically Eol, but it's a little less obvious than some other, later & more modern fantasy depictions) and the Druedain. But he was far from the only person to do this, even at the time, AND he also based those things on cultures like Indigenous Africans, as well, so you could make the argument for either. The White , English artist John White is one of the artists that based his depictions of Celts/Picts on his OTHER drawings of Native Americans, specifically the Wampanoag and the Powhatan, and that was waaay back in the early 16th century. I think in general when White people wanted to portray anything as "barbaric" and uncivilized", they went with the association of Native Americans (and Indigenous Africans) because most White people thought of us like that anyway, so they used it as a short hand, but I don't know if it was specifically English influence to popularize it just because, again, that sentiment was so widespread already.

It's also pretty much guaranteed that even if White people hated both Celts (& because of the association with Scotland and Ireland in England's case) and Native Americans or thought both of us were "savage", they almost certainly thought Natives were MORE savage (by virtue of being brown & not situated in Europe), so they used US to make depictions of Celts and Vikings/Old Norse people as worse. Altneratively, I've also seen White people conflate Native Americans and Black people (usually specifically African Americans) by having their depictions of Natives use butchered AAVE, in an attempt to compare us to Black people and show us as like... Less civilized or uneducated, or less eloquent, when they wanted. A New Ager, Plastic Shaman, and pretendian in the 60s, Mary Summer Rain claimed she was a shaman trained by two Native women who didn't speak English very well, & this is how she alleged one of them spoke

The text says "stereotyped Tonto Speak", and while I don't think it's NOT that, there's clearly butchered AAVE sprinkled in, what with the habitual "be". The (White) author of the book Dance Me Outside (yes he was White) did the exact same thing with alleged Cree characters who spoke little to no English, and as a Cree who has been around other Crees like that, I promise you Crees who speak English as a second language don't talk like this. So in other words, White people (because the above mentioned two were American and Canadian respectively) have been and will use allusions to different cultures to portray them as "savage" or less civilized by comparison, and they did the same thing between us and Black people. White people do this everywhere, so it's hard to pinpoint if any one person started it or if the English specifically did.

However, going back to your original question of where it might've gained popularity in a specific area, I believe the associations and links between Native Americans and Celts/Old Norse people and using us for the aesthetics and culture part, REALLY picked up speed again in the 60s and 70s thanks to hippies. It started out because of appropriation and obsession with Native Americans, the new age movement, the development of wicca, and white supremacists weird obsession with Vikings and Celts an Anglo Saxons. New Age spiritualities & hippies started commercializing Native Spirituality, often with pretendians claiming to have been specially trained by Native American "Shamans", & then selling that info out via books, alleged spiritual objects (including crystal skulls), 'ceremonies' that one payed to enter, and tutorials on finding your spirit name and the like. One of the explanations as to the appeal of this was because of trying to find spiritual meaning within the framework of capitalism and a disillusionment with Christianity:

"McRacken argues that individuals in a consumer society use consumer goods to try to recover displaced cultural meaning. He defines displaced meaning as cultural meaning deliberately removed from the daily life of a community and displaced onto a distant cultural domain by romanticizing another culture." -Aldred, Lisa. "Plastic shamans and astroturf sun dances: New Age commercialization of Native American spirituality." American Indian Quarterly 24.3 (2000): 329-352. Page 338.

the white supremacist obsession with Vikings/Celts/Anglo-Saxons comes in here because they did the same thing with THOSE cultures, and evidently, they see themselves as inherently "Indigenous" to Europe (completely ignoring actual Indigenous groups there that they helped oppress and commit genocide against) AS WELL as having a claim to North America. WS's of this ilk also happen to be obsessed with Native Americans, and you'll find overlap between them AND New Age spiritualists, so they are often New Agers themselves. The aforementioned pretendians who started all this (Again, often hippies) also mixed various bastardized Native American spiritualities and other beliefs like Buddhism, Hinduism, and paganism and ancient Druidism.

So in the rough timeline we have: White people make artistic allusions to Native Americans in art and writing in place of or alongside other cultures deemed uncivilized, setting the stage

-> The Noble Savage trope gains popularity

-> media representations of historic "savages" in Europe continue to use the associated allusions to Native Americans

-> obsession with Native Americans & our spirituality grows, New Agers conflate Indigenous aesthetics and spirituality with Celtic/Norse ones while professing to be an Authority on the subject alongside hippies appropriating Indigenous fashion and aesthetics

-> the wider public believes this & the bastardized, commercialized versions of Native spirituality to be true

-> White people, including white supremacists, take part in New Age spirituality because of the obsession with the ancient White Cultures (and Indigenous) associated, they utilize the appropriated aesthetics from Native Americans That Hippies and New Agers set the stage for & applied

-> the appropriated aesthetics and allusions to Native Americans becomes widespread & instead associated with Vikings/Celts/Old Norse cultures as well as fictional cultures and races coded as either due to media misrepresentation (as seen in my post, which is what it was about)

So, while it didn't begin there, and this explanation is missing some things and it's a much shortened version of explaining a few things, the connection between inaccurate depictions of Vikings/Celts/Old Norse coming from Native American cultures and aesthetics was very much influenced and picked up a lot of speed and popularity in the 60s and 70s thanks to White Hippies, Pretendians, and white supremacists. Note that a lot of these people were also middle to upperclass & they did all this (& profited from it) while Native spiritualities were illegal and Native kids were in Residential Schools. And again, please note there's also Indigenous African and African American influence with New Agers as well, but I know less about that I wanted to talk about what I DO know, cause I don't wanna talk out of my ass, and I was talking about specifically the connection between Vikings/Celts/Native Americans (I'm sure there's Black influence there too, but again, I know much less of it and I'm not sure about specifics). I learned that even a popular tattoo design from the 80s of the Celtic knot came from Native American and Aboriginal (specificall Maaori, Aboriginal, and Tahitan) tattoo designs and art. I'm sorry this was so long but I had a lot to say hgushfus.

[davidluongart]

Aphrodite and 100 years of Greek fashion (Part 3/final)

Here is my third and final part of Aphrodite as 100 years of Greek fashion, with contributions from users such as @alatismeni-theitsa and @greek-mythologies​ for introducing me about Greek arts, culture and its past history as usual. I had a lot of fun and learned a lot of things from doing this project so far! And for all the people who wanted me to draw them in the fashion of the 2000s, I cannot bear myself to searching upon the styles and do it; since not only the fashion during that time lack practicality and charm, it just looks downright ugly and hideous, in general. (So please bear with me on that one.)

Previous posts:

Aphrodite and 100 years of Greek fashion (part 1)

Aphrodite and 100 years of Greek fashion (part 2)

1970s:

For the 1970s, fashion begins to take on a more individualistic approach, replaced the “everyone-follow-the-famous” trend of the 50s and 60s; as Vogue had proclaimed “there are no rules in the fashion game now. You’re playing it and you make up the game as you go.” During this time, the relevance of haute couture fashion was also seriously debated, as with the emergence of ready to wear fashion designers (such as turtleneck sweaters), the massive socio-political upheavals that happened within America (regarding about race, LGBTQ+, feminism, and the overall environmental concerns) and foreign relations to other countries around the world. (Many of them include the space journey to the Moon; the nuclear missiles that stored within Cuba and Turkey by US and USSR; the Soviet-Afghanistan war in 1979 and the fall of Saigon in 1975, that still lead a hatred between Northern Vietnamese and Southern Vietnamese population. Within Greece and Cyprus, Greeks who were being suspected to be infiltrated with communism were being sent to an island, and tortured by the ruling military junta, who were funded by the US; while the Eastern region of Cyprus was being invaded and occupied by Turkey.)

Anyways, in here, Aphrodite’s clothing was much more inspired from the Folk-Revival fashion, a subset group that came out from the rebellious and unconventional Bohemian hippies of the 60s, but decorated with traditional floral embroidery of the Aegean Islands; while Ares’s clothing was inspired from much more formal, industrial and militaristic tones of that time. (Since his place of origins was very much near Bulgaria and the eastern parts of the Balkans, which was still belonged to the USSR.) According to an article that I read regarding about the history of folk-revival fashion, it is said to be popularized by English designer Zandra Rhodes, when she observed The Beatles’ trip to India and The Rolling Stones’ trip to Morocco; as well as Yves Saint Laurent’s “Russian collection” for the Fall/Winter of 1976-77, “featured rich peasant looks with full skirts, corselet-type bodices, and short decorated jackets in luxurious fabrics trimmed with fur. It also introduced colorful scarves, shawls, ruffled skirts, and boots to the mainstream.”

The Eastern Bloc-inspired architectural background was based on a huge Brutalist public housing complex in Paris, designed by architect Manuel Núñez Yanowsky; since after WWII, many parts of metropolitan cities are noticeably reduced to ruins and ashes and that people don’t really care that much about elegance and opulence anymore. Originated from the Swiss designer Le Corbusier for his love of the “humble” material concrete (hence its name origins, “breton brut/ raw concrete”), the style of Brutalism was later being picked up and favored by a lot of countries who have a humanitarian approach to Socialist ideals, in order to house, to organize and to accommodate many people as much as possible. It also later associated with a lot of governmental buildings, churches, schools, universities by the end turn of the century. Even though I did ask @alatismeni-theitsa​ on whether did Greece built a lot of Brutalist architectural buildings/infrastructures after the war and that she said “the style was very rare, not very popular and favored by the Greeks”, I still think it was a symbol of that decade, to be honest. A place that made to shield us away from our chaotic, crumbling world. A place that now comes to symbolize the cold, menacing nature of authoritarianism, urban decay, and economic hardships due to the war.

1980s-1990s:

Unlike the contrasting bright neon-colored fashion of the 80s and the later hip-hop-inspired fashion of the 90s that happened within North America, fashion from the 80s-90s in Europe was much more in cold, somber tones and seemed to be re-using a lot of clothing/forms of silhouettes from the 60s-70s, with a bit of resurgence of “new wave, post-punk music/fashion” in popularity; since this is the beginning of the end of Cold War, and the crumble of the USSR after all. With the Chernobyl nuclear disaster that happened near the town of Pripyat in 1986, and the fall of the Berlin Wall (and reunification of Germany) happened in 1989-1990; the USSR finally dissolute itself into the countries that we saw today in 1991. However, due to many factors such as the unstable government systems and lack of necessary shortages for basic human needs, etc. , the lingering remnants of conflicts within the region of northern parts of Eastern Europe and the Middle East are still happening, unfortunately, until now.

And since Greece is located between these two opposing major world powers of Western and Eastern Europe, I think these two lovers still take two opposite fashion trends, as they had already done in many previous decades. Ares is still keeping his thrift store military-inspired clothing, as military-inspired outerwear was a major trend in this decade and had been proven to be one of fashion’s most robust trends until now. (But he might hide some of the anarcho-punk bracelets that he bought in Athens, under his old WWII coat.) Aphrodite, in here, is wearing “power-dressing” clothing that often associated with “women who working in the office/business workforce at that time”, covered up with an oversized striped skirt-suit and the punk-inspired necklaces from Madonna.

2010s-2020:

For this decade that we are currently living in, I’m feeling that we are currently experiencing the strangest fashion movement ever, with subsets of fashion trends and styles changed so fast with a blink of an eye. At the beginning of the 2010s (which now feeling so ancient, according to Tumblr standards), I remembered that hipster minimalist fashion with dark earthy color tones was the look; and now, we are experiencing a resurgence of colorful fashion trends from the 1970s, the 1980s, and the late 1990s in 2019-2020. 

For my own Aphrodite and Ares, even though they had always been immortal back from the time of Ancient Greece, I‘m feeling that they’re a bit old now and dressing a bit like the slow styles that our mums and dads would wear, to be honest. Never out of style, always remains chic and became much more practical. Moreover, I also found the links and websites for the OUR LEGACY tablecloth-inspired blouse worn by Ares (since I would imagine him to left his military fashion style for a bit and experimenting with more colors) and the traditional Greek embroidered caftan dress worn by Aphrodite, in case if you guys are interested in buying these types of clothing for your own summer quarantine fashion.

[simtrospective]

SCRAPPED STORY CHALLENGE by @bugsims

01. Post a few screenshots from a scrapped scene / edit / story! 02. Share why you scrapped this specific thing. 03. Tag five friends, and watch the fun play out!

Thank you to @gilded-ghosts for the tag.

Because I wrote so much that you might prefer to skip, let me do 03. outside the cut. I tag...

@ladykendalsims - @jet-plane-sims - @boogey-studios - @pinkmonsimblr - @dynastiasimss

The above pictures (plus the related tray files) are all I have left of an idea that was half-formed to begin with and which never got off the ground at all.

01.

Depending on if you’re a follower of mine + how long you’ve been following me, you may have seen a few of these shots before but I’ll explain them anyway:

Set 1: The characters Charlie, Hick, and Craig, in their original states on the left and their enhanced, final states on the right;

Set 2: A few WIP pictures of the performance space/club/thing I built;

Set 3: A bunch of test shots I took to see how the characters looked interacting, what they did naturally, and how they looked when I ~directed them. I used these pics to try and find my editing style for the story. I didn’t find the style I wanted. Clearly.

02.

I scrapped this idea because it never came together; I didn’t connect with the characters; I didn’t care about the storyline; I’m not done with my new save so I couldn’t ~comfortably start telling this story when the rest of the world was/is disordered; and on and on. The point is, I wasn’t feeling any of this. Oh! And I hate the whole vibe and time period and aesthetic irl; what on earth was I thinking writing about it?!

So. What was this going to be?

[[Under the cut because this is... so, so long. So long.]]

Charlie, Hick, and Craig were

going

to live in Del Sol Valley in my new save, in the Pinnacles neighborhood, which I was

going

to turn into a Laurel Canyon-style neighborhood. An entire community of would-be songwriters/musicians were

going

to live in the two smaller lots and commune with one another and be the New Guard colliding with the Old Guard; the huge mansion lot was

going

to house an aging former film-current soap actor confronting his mortality and also hating the living shit out of these hippies whose existence he took as a personal affront--I digress. Back to the “story.”

Charlie, Hick, and Craig met after each arrived in DSV separately and they vibed and they moved in together, all in a matter of, like, a week’s time. Charlie and Hick vibed especially. So much in common! Such poor little rich [kids]! Both came from pampered environments in which their family money and respective fathers’ connections allowed them to skate through life and to play at being musicians because--despite crying oppression at the hands of upper class WASP-dom--they'll always have safety nets to ensure they’ll always be okay. Charlotte Grant graduated from her all-girls prep school and put on a floppy hat and became Charlie Grant; Richard Hickey (lololol) ripped up his acceptance letter to Britechester and grew his hair out and hitchhiked and told people to call him “Hick.” They’ve lived parallel lives and “recognize” one another as soon as they meet. They have an electric connection, but neither will verbalize that. Above all, they... really want to sleep together.

Craig grew up working class and has no safety net; he just wants a little adventure before he gets a real job/grows up/gets married (his gf back home is off to college; they’re long-distance; it’s... not going to work). He’s a good guitar player and he’s a good songwriter and that’s it but maybe it’ll be more? What do they say about the lottery? Can’t win if you don’t play? Charlie and Hick want to be famous ~rule the world. Hick plays guitar well and tries to write songs but they’re shitty. Charlie is passively learning the keyboard and writes songs that are not... bad...? Some are... good?

Charlie and Hick--can you tell they eclipse Craig, yet?--have weird sexual chemistry and tension: they tease, they flirt, they taunt, they enjoy one another’s attention but they never so much as hug. They both have cruel streaks as only disconnected, spoiled, emotionally stunted bluebloods can: the torture of their relationship/non-relationship gets them off more than anything else could and that thrill drives much of their behaviors: bringing wanton strangers home for one night stands, each hoping the other is watching/overhearing, fighting about little things, acting like inappropriately close siblings, acting like strangers. Craig suffers their whims; Charlie and Hick aren’t just united in their toxicity and their dreams of fame, but in how they make Craig into a third wheel or a--well, punching bag is too strong a term. Charlie and Hick think they’re teasing their bff but you know how it is to be teased allllll the tiiiiiiime and how it can make your head spin when people who can’t get along with one another join forces--without even having to discuss it--to turn on you. Their relationship gets patched up, you’re hurting, they insist it’s not a big deal and even that you even liked it. We’re all friends. We’re all best friends omg.

But sometimes they have fun together. They have a lot of fun together. Sometimes it all is everything each dreamed it would be. DSV is a wonderland and their careers are happening and life is happening and they’re best friends. They’re soulmates for life.

The three work on music, perform at clubs. Craig is starting to come into his own as a man. I hate the term coming-of-age but in the background of the Charlie & Hick Show, Craig is maturing. He has to, because C&H are fuck-ups. They jeopardize scheduled performances. They don’t know how to talk to club owners. They’re not interested in paying their dues. They are unable (or unwilling) to promote themselves without being obnoxious attention whores. They don’t practice or help write songs. They don’t take care of the house. Hick is late with his rent. Charlie thinks she can flirt her way out of everything. Craig is also the only one of them who works; he has a day job at a print shop, gives guitar lessons on the side, and makes sure the three get gigs and don’t get evicted. The only thing C&H put consistent effort toward is making the social scene or finding a party or scoring drugs or getting laid. As the group’s local star(s) rise, their fates start to change course which increases the interpersonal tension. Hick’s fun-loving nature is starting to turn into a legit substance abuse problem and he’s picking fights with the wrong people and socially devolving, his arrogance and issues and general laziness rendering him unable to relate to others; Charlie is getting a lot of attention from older men In the Business, who have the money and connections to make her a solo star, which she is shrewdly considering; and Craig’s resentment toward his “friends” and disillusionment with the superficiality of DSV is making him rethink his motivation for coming west in the first place.

Oh, and Charlie and Hick--again, as their paths change and as their weird tension remains unresolved--continue to take their bullshit out on Craig and now it’s not funny anymore, it’s not cute, it’s not exciting, and neither is it when Hick ruins a show by being too stoned to perform and neither is it when Charlie brings unsavory characters home who trash the three’s equipment and neither is it when C&H steal Craig’s songs and perform without him at a gig they didn’t tell him about.

What I intended was that the story would at first seem to be The Charlie and Hick Show, all about them, as if we’re supposed to root for them, but ideally, through my ~deft hand 🙄 the reader 🙄🙄 was supposed to be like, Um... hold on-- until it eventually was quite obvious that these two--though human; though in situations we could understand and empathize with--were captured at a point in their lives when they were Super Toxic Assholes, and what you were watching all along was Craig as Hero.

So I had ideas, but I didn’t know how to fit them together and I didn’t want a really long story and I couldn’t--I just couldn’t figure it out. I do know that the end was going to be Craig screwing them like they’d been screwing him, a final middle finger with consequences. I know that he and Hick were going to have words and Hick was going to try and fight him (such a loser) and Charlie was going to throw a Hail Mary of like... trying to seduce (lol) Craig into staying omg I always had a thing for you/we’d be such a great team/I always thought we could ~be something ~together uwu bullshit like that. Was this true? Was this true in her own mind? I think I was going to set the story up so that if you reread, yeah, it could be true, but she’s so flirty and manipulative and socially savvy and used to getting what she wants that who knows what her real feelings ever are? Ultimately that would’ve been irrelevant bc Craig never looked at her that way and hates her and Hick now; good going guys. It’s worth noting, I guess, that when I put the group on a test lot, Charlie was super into Craig immediately, went right to him, stood close to him, was eager to make romantic overtures; she went 0 to 60 in an instant and as so far as is possible in this game they had chemistry, but Craig was not feeling the romance. And no one was feeling Hick.

Anyway, Craig was going to move on with his life and Charlie and Hick were going to learn nothing and blame him, ~the end.

And then, as I continued to play my save and maybe tell more stories, there would be Easter eggs, references to Charlie, Hick, and Craig older/in the future and where they went in life in the background of other, unrelated stories: Hick’s substance abuse problems and rehab stints and going by Richard again and his eventual moderate fame and eventual sobriety and attempted comeback and his bad relationships with his exes and children; Charlie’s legit fame + marriage to a producer + eventual fade away + moderate comeback + solid second or third marriage and bff relationship with her children 🙄🙄🙄 and her palatial house on the coast and now she exclusively wears white and ivory and pampers her dogs and eats raw (but drinks wine) because it “cured” her undiagnosed, unnamed “autoimmune disorder,” which she wrote a book about resulting in a semi-comeback but as a Famous Person and not a musician. Craig going to college and becoming a high school English teacher who plays in a local band on the weekends and who has a good marriage (not to the long distance gf) and nice kids, one of whom would eventually have her own story where she pursued musicianship with her dad, which got him back into his first passion but it was a qt father-daughter project and not An Attempt to Be Famous.

So. Idk. That’s what this all would’ve been. But it wasn’t, and it won’t be!

[calliecat93]

Star Trek Episodes 73-76

The Lights of Zetar: This was one fine. Nothing noteworthy, but I have nothing to really complain about. Scotty liking Mira was cute... too bad we’ll likely never see her again but hey at least she lived. The ending with Kirk joking about Spock, McCoy, and Scotty agreeing also got me to chuckle. There’s not realy much else I can say, it was standard and fine but nothing to note. But with how this season has been, that may be for the best. 3/5.

Requiem for Methuselah: It was okay. Ankther episode that makes me lowkey uncomfortable sue to current times, but ah well. There’s some weird immortality stuff that I’m still wrapping my head around, but not like that’s new at this point. It’s also another episode with Kirk and a girl, they seem to default to that a lot this season. Appreny this is the last time though and with how it ended... yeah. Poor Kirk man. I can still safely say that his image as a womanizing skirt-chaser is bullshit. The themes of immortality and Rayna developing emotions and free well for hersef despite being an android was a nice one and how Kirk emphasized that she has human spirit/free will was really good (hammy Shatner acting aside). The biggest issue I have here is the ending. Rayma dying sucked, but my issue was with Spock and McCoy in the final scene. McCoy is way too dickish even for him towards Spock for no good reason (IDK if be meant to be but that’s not an excuse) and Spock non-consensually wiping Kirk’s memory of the incident no matter how well-intentioned he is is utterly screwed up. Yeah they’re both concerned for Kirk and I appreciate that, but they were both still not done well here even if Nimoy and Kelley’s acting was A+. I wouldn’t mind kf they followed it up, but we all know that never happened nor was it planned to, so... yeah. That being said, it’s still far from the worst this season. It’s decent enough, and again for this season that’s probably for the best. 3/5.

The Way to Eden: Every time I think that the stupid is ocer, they just HAVE to fo and prove me wrong. So... hippees. I know that this was the 60’s, but... really? This was the enst that they could come up with?! This was just... dumb. It’s S3 so not that shocking, but still dumb. Not to mention dated, probably moreso than any episode. Chekov also felt really OOC here, I don’t recall him ever being that stiff. Probably what annoys me most is that whenever I get to an episode, I loke looking at the production details, and I found out that the original plan flr this episode? It was to introduce Joanna, McCoy’s daughter (a fact that canon never brings up but seems to be considered canon far as I can tell). Mind you the original plot was still dumb and imo REALLY inappropriate flr sevwral reasons (Joanna and Kirk were gonna have feelings for one another... and McCoy would VERY understandably have multiple issues with that), but we got robbed of anlther McCoy-centric episode (McCoy’s been my saving grace aside from what I noted in the previous episode) that would have shes some light on his perosnal life flr space hippies?! WHO THOUGHT THAG WAS A GOOD IDEA?! Anyways, it’s not the worst episode of the season, but it’s still not good. 1/5.

The Cloud Minders: Again, it was fine. A cloud city is always a fun idea, though the limitations of 60’s special effects doesn’t make it as epic as it could have been. I’m realy running out of things to say here. There’s nothing that different from past episodes and it didn’t do it any better or worse. Not sure how I feel about how they resokved the confmict, but hey a resolution is a resolution. Also out of context there’s a pro-mask message in there and I approve that. Having a sky city where those below it are being opressed and forced into mines also gives me major RWBY vibes. That’s all I can really say about this one. Not bad, nothing new, but perfectly fine as it is. Better than space hippies at least. 3/5.

Three episodes remain. Holy cow, we’re almost done. It’s been two months now since this jurney began, and while there is still much more ahead, we’re almost done with the one that started it all. So... you know what? We’re finishing today. I have some stuff to do but now that the end is in signt, I am reaching it, damn it. Final three episodss thoughts will be posted later today. Let’s end this, people.

[thecorteztwins]

I love how you care so much about obscure characters. Who is your favorite underrated female X-men character

Awww thank you! I love bringing them love, so it makes me really happy for you to say that! My absolute fave is Haven, but I read “faves” as plural so I wrote down a bunch...my faves can bounce around a bit but here’s a list of some of them! It’s under a cut because it’s long, I really like to explain who these gals are and why I like them so much! Warning, there is some description of pretty horrendous sexism and racism for some of these, since nothing makes me latch on to a woman harder than wanting to defend her from the SHITTY THINGS WRITERS DID TO HER! I kinda wrote novels for Haven and Madelyne, then I did links to previous things I’ve written about others. This is a LOT, I’m so sorry, I just love sharing!! Thank you for asking!!

THE BIG ONES Basically my consistent mega-faves I’m always ready to talk about! RADHA “HAVEN” DASTOOR - This lady has been at the top of my list for over five years and counting! She just really resonated with me on a deep level. She’s this mysterious woman who turns up in X-Factor for seven issues, and though she’s very benevolent towards them (even when they attack her) she is technically a villain, as she’s trying to destroy 3/4 of the world to bring about the Mahapralaya, a sort of Hindu apocalypse that will bring about an age of peace and end to suffering. So, her motives are very compassionate, and as it turns out, the horrible things she’s trying to do aren’t actually her fault. She’s being posessed by the Adversary, a demon of the highest order and an entity of cosmic evil. Or more specifically, her unborn child is. See, Haven was a really, really good woman. She was not a mutant, but she was sensitive to the pain and suffering of others from an early age, and she devoted her life to helping the poor and needy. She’s incredibly rich, so she could have helped just from afar, but instead she not only used her wealth to help others, she herself went out in the streets to attend to the poor and sick with her own hands. She bathed lepers, cradled dying babies, everything. She actually GOT the name “Haven” from a children’s hospital that she renovated, the kids started calling HER that instead. What a villain, huh? It all goes super wrong when she fell in love with a guy. After he took her virginity, he took off, leaving her pregnant. This was in 1970s India, and she was a very a religious woman, she felt INTENSE shame and horrible guilt and sunk into a deep depression, now living on the streets herself she was so broken. And then...then her fetus started talking to her. Yeah, see, technically she wasn’t posessed by the Adversary, her unborn child was. It incubated in her for twenty years, corrupting her mind, making her its pawn, all basically for its own amusement til it could be reborn into the world, killing her. And the guy who knocked her up? Got off scott-free. Basically she had sex ONE time and she had to be punished for it by being stripped of her agency, forced to betray everything she loved and believed, and then finally killed in the mud while a Marvel deity stood over and told her how she brought this on herself. It’s a slut-shaming Victorian morality tale of how no matter how good a person you are, you’re tainted forever if you violate purity culture just once, and we’re expected to AGREE with this narrative as readers. It’s sick. It gets even worse in how X-Factor treats her. She first appears RESCUING Polaris from government agents who are trying to kill her, because despite WORKING for the government at this time (X-Factor was a government team during this period) Polaris’s energy signature matched Magneto’s. Haven is the one who saved Polaris by teleporting her away. Polaris was distrustful and threatened Haven. Haven tried to talk her down, but also opened her arms and said that if Polaris truly did not believe her, then she would not resist. Polaris decided to “give trust a try” but I also truly believe that if Lorna had attacked her, Haven indeed would have let her. Haven is a human but the Adversary gave her INCREDIBLE power, she could WIPE PEOPLE FROM EXISTENCE by THINKING ABOUT IT, but she was a pacifist every step of the way, even as a villain. X-Factor would REPEATEDLY attack her later...she NEVER retaliated. The worst thing she did was, once they kept on attacking her, she just kinda put them in her pocket dimension as a time-out, but didn’t hurt them any. I really don’t think she COULD, possessed or not. Anyway, after meeting Lorna, she ‘ports Lorna back to safety and leaves her be. She is interested in recruiting Lorna and the rest of X-Factor to her cause, but she’s very moral about it, and never uses situations like these as leverage; for instance, when she heals Rahne of the Genoshan bonding process and gives her back her free will and her ability to resume her fully human form, Rahne is ECSTATIC and ready to do ANYTHING for her. And rather than exploit this, Haven just hugs her and tells her that her joy is thanks enough. Again, what a villain! Anyway, it turns out this Haven lady is also an activist! She’s big on promoting peace between warring groups (which I think makes it very significant that she’s an Indian character from Mumbai, then Bombay, who was created in 1992, the same year when Hindu/Muslim tensions in India resulted in the Bombay Bombings and subsequent riots, and she indeed mentions Hindu/Muslim tensions in her pro-peace speeches) and she emphasizes accepting MUTANTS in particular. It is very rare we see humans who are pro-mutant, though they had happened before, but this is the first time we see a human who is pro-mutant WITHOUT any affiliation or friendship with the X-men, and who is a public figure who seems to have some real social power---she’s a best-selling author, lecturer, and apparently her being a very wealthy woman has made some very wealthy people listen to her. She is basically the perfect ally for mutants if you take out the demon-possessed part, and I always found this super interesting and wish more had been done with it. So, she’s speaking at Brahma Hall (Brahma, notably, is the Hindu creator god) and...THIS happens. It’s...it’s really distressing. I’m sure it’s bad enough in its own time, but reading it NOW, in a post-9/11 world, a world where POC are routinely slaughtered by law enforcement (they always were but social media has made us more aware) it’s chilling. And we, the reader, are supposed to see X-Factor as JUSTIFIED in how they treat this unarmed, non-threatening, apparently-human-for-all-they-know woman who is promoting peace. Because no matter how nice she is, the US government says she’s an evil terrorist, and the US government turns out to be right! Yay, America! This might be a good time to mention Haven was the first Hindu character in X-Men comics, and the philosophy that the Adversary is manipulating her with comes directly from Hindu cosmology, and that is WAY IFFY to say THE LEAST. Holy xenophobia, Batman! And in an X-MEN comic of ALL PLACES! Oh yeah, and our good guys also describe her beliefs as “New Age psychobabble” and make fun of her temple decor as "very 60s" when BOTH ARE FROM HINDUISM, WHITE USA HIPPIES DID NOT INVENT IT, YOU IGNORANT SHITS So anyway, Haven’s very interesting to me as someone who is so deeply pacifistic and compassionate, that even when she’s being steered by a literal demon that has been talking in her womb for 20 years, she’s still someone who is perpetually polite, who won’t hurt the HEROES even when they want to hurt her, who SURRENDERS during a FIGHT in order to HEAL ONE OF THEM, and...who ends up with an abruptly aborted arc where she’s killed by her own “child” and victim-blamed in her last moments by Roma, the Omniversal Guardian Goddess and foe/counterpart of the Adversary. It’s made all the more tragic by the fact that Haven’s last pleas to Roma weren’t for herself, but for Roma to stop the Adversary, as she had realized now what her “child” really was. Even in her final moments, Haven was thinking of others, of the world. It’s just....awful to me that a character as interesting and unique as she was was thrown away like that, and that she was treated in such a sexist, racist, xenophobic way by both the HEROES and the story itself. I stan Haven 4 life. MADELYNE PRYOR- She’s maybe not “obscure” per se, I think most X-Men readers have a basic understanding of who she is, but the problem is that “basic” is not enough. What most people know is ”she’s Jean Grey’s evil clone” and some might know that “she was married to Scott Summers and went evil when he ditched her for Jean”. But that’s so far from the whole story, and it really does Madelyne a disservice, and canon has done her ENOUGH disservice already. Madelyne was originally created by Chris Claremont to truly be just a human woman who looked just like the dead Jean, with whom Scott would settle down and have a kid, and leave the X-Men. It’s a pretty nonsensical notion, the idea that this woman just happens to look exactly like Jean and meet Scott and fall in love, but this was his plan, he has confirmed it. And like...that’s pretty sexist from the start, in that she’s very literally created as a replacement for Jean on a narrative level, there’s NO REASON that she should have to look exactly like Scott’s dead ex besides as a way for Scott to still “get” Jean in a way. But Maddie rises above that swiftly by being a super strong, super cool character in her own right. She’s a pilot, she’s fearless, she’s adventurous, she’s got a mean right hook, and she’s got a tragic backstory when she crashed her plane and cost the lives of over three hundred passengers. She gets involved with Scott and by extension the X-Men, and she holds her own despite having no powers. Weird fact, this means that some of the X-Men, like Rogue, met Madelyne before they ever met Jean. She also gets a cool story where she gained healing powers, and the reason her powers specifically took the form of healing is because they were what she wanted them to be. She’s a good person, and also a total badass. Then, Jean came back, and the Powers That Be wanted her back together with Scott. But Scott was married to Madelyne. Rather than have them get a divorce or something, it was decided Madelyne had to be very literally demonized and then murdered, because we can’t just have two women co-exist, no, they must be divided into a “good” woman and a “bad” woman and fight over a man. Actual quote from Chris Claremont: “ Then, unfortunately, Jean was resurrected, Scott dumps his wife and kid and goes back to the old girlfriend. So it not only destroys Scott's character as a hero and as a decent human being it creates an untenable structural situation: what do we do with Madelyne and the kid? ... So ultimately the resolution was: turn her into the Goblin Queen and kill her off.” So, after something like EIGHT YEARS of being a character unto herself, Madelyne gets retconned as actually having been Jean’s clone all along! Which, okay, does make sense, certainly more sense than ‘this woman just happens to look EXACTLY like Jean and hook up with Jean’s ex” but then the REASON that Sinister cloned her...is nothing to do with Maddie or Jean themselves. Madelyne’s creation isn’t ABOUT her the way so many other clone/created-in-a-lab type stories are, like Laura Kinney. She wasn’t important. She was made literally just to have a baby with Scott, the BABY is what’s important. She is REPEATEDLY called a “brood mare” in fact (a female horse used specifically for breeding) So basically, her only value, her only REASON for existing, is her reproductive capacity. A lot of people think that Madelyne either found out she was a clone and went crazy-evil, or she went crazy-evil when Scott went back to Jean. That’s not what happened. Madelyne goes through a long, long series of arduous tragedies that piece by piece dehumanize and violate and traumatize her, and even then she doesn’t become evil until she’s TRICKED into being infected with demonic energy. Being “evil” was NEVER her choice, and everyone forgets that. See, first Scott walked out on her and the baby. Then, the Marauders attacked her, nearly killed her, and stole her baby and left her for dead in a coma for months. When she woke up, her baby was still missing, and she rejoined the X-Men to help them while they also helped search for her son. She sacrificed her LIFE alongside them to defeat the Adversary (yes, the same one Haven was pregnant with!) and then was resurrected with them too by Roma (yes, same Roma). She continued to work with the X-Men, despite the fact Scott had left her, and used her tech expertise to be the X-Men’s computer gal in Australia. When she saw X-Factor on one of the news monitors, including Scott with Jean, she realized why he’d abandoned her. She punched the screen and the explosion knocked her unconscious. While she was knocked out and dreaming, the demon Sym invaded her mind showed her a few different reflections of things she could be, one of which was a demonic reflection of herself. She chose that one, saying “What the heck, it’s only a dream.” And then Sym infected her with demonic energy. So she literally JUST found out her husband left her and their now-missing son for another woman, and she thinks she’s dreaming so yeah she picks the idea of being a demon IN THE CONTEXT OF A DREAM, A FUCKING FANTASY, WHEN SHE’S GOT EVERY RIGHT TO BE PISSED and oh well now you’re gonna be evil for real honey you don’t get a choice. Serves you right for being angry even for a moment, woman! But even then, she didn’t instantly turn evil. Horrible shit had already happened to her, but she still held out…so of course, more shit happened to her. While she and the X-Men were trying to help an escapee from Genosha (which was still enslaving mutants at that point) she ended up captured herself, and since their readings indicated she was not quite human (though what exactly she was, they didn’t know) they tried to put her through the “mutate bonding process” that would enslave her too. As a result, her latent psychic powers finally manifest, and she telekinetically explodes the place. From there, we start seeing big hints that something is going really wrong with Maddie, she seduces Havok and she’s entered into a secret bargain with the demon N’astrih, who promised to help her find her still-missing son (whom she still wanted to find and save at that point because she was still mostly herself) and of course, that bargain transformed her into the Goblyn Queen. After this transformation, though, she STILL had not gone past the point of no return. That didn’t happen until she met Sinister and she found out the truth of her origins—-not only was she a clone of Jean Grey physically, the few memories that she had also came from Jean, and her emotions from Scott had been PROGRAMMED into her (meaning she never had a choice at all in the man she loved) and it was all to be a brood mare, to produce a child with him. Only then did she go off the deep end completely, and agreed to N’astrih’s plan to sacrifice her own son (who he now found and gave to her, as this was his plan all along) because it was the absolute BIGGEST fuck you she could give to Sinister and to Cyclops. And like, yes, that’s evil, but given at that point she was not only magically infected/corrupted with demon energy AND insane with trauma that had been building up for months if not YEARS of development…she basically had a better excuse than ANYONE in all this who was also corrupted by Inferno. Yet she’s the one who doesn’t get a break. The unfairness is just…staggering, really. Even her death isn’t without indignity, violation, and depersonalization---she tries to commit a murder suicide, linking her mind with Jean’s and killing herself so that Jean will be dragged down into death with her. Jean, who really is the kindest to Maddie, urges Maddie to live instead, but Maddie’s last words are “not in the same world as you”. Jean survives. Maddie does not. And then...Jean takes Maddie’s memories and psyche into herself. It’s meant as beautiful, but to me it’s a heinous violation. Maddie wanted nothing more than be APART from Jean, so much so she KILLED HERSELF, and now Jean has made her a part of her forever, and we’re meant to applaud this? It’s DISGUSTING. Madelyne gets resurrected in the 1990s by Nate Grey, but it turns out that was an accident on his part, his mind was subconsciously seeking...Jean Grey, of course. And we he finds out he’s the one who brought her back to life, HE TRIES TO KILL HER. Jean stops him, but it’s no wonder to me that poor Maddie runs to the arms of Sebastian Shaw...who, of all people, actually treats her as an individual from the get-go and ends up being a pretty good boyfriend to her. Never even tries to use her in any evil schemes, it’s crazy. Madelyne has come back and died again and come back a few times since then, but she’s never really been “Maddie” again, whether it was brave adventurous Badass Normal pilot Maddie who just wanted to help people, or the bitter, conflicted, morally grey Maddie of the 90s. No, she’s just....she’s not even Goblyn Queen anymore, she lacks the pathos, she’s just this sexy evil misogynist caricature of herself and I hate it. I really love Madelyne Pryor. She came into this crazy world as a normal human, and when she got pulled into superhero shenanigans she held her own. She was a badass, she was a spitfire, she had a huge heart. She deserves a lot better than just being a gross Sexy Evil Lady with no personality, especially since she no longer has the whole “demonically possessed” issue going on. It’s just stupid and sexist at this point. I personally love original 80s Maddie, and also 90s Maddie where like...this shit has happened to her and she’s darker for it now, and understandably so, but she’s also still HER. Like, she leaves Sebastian Shaw not because he ever treated her badly, which he did not, but because he was doing things that could hurt OTHER PEOPLE, and that was where she drew the line. She was an enemy to the X-Men now or at least really hated them, she killed Threnody for bringing up her past as being “bred to breed”, but she also wasn’t about to be with a man who would risk the lives of millions of innocent people with his schemes, no matter how well he treated her, no matter if he was the one man who ever saw her for HER. Real Maddie is INTERESTING and Real Maddie is GOOD and I want Real Maddie back so she can call everyone on their shit and then go off and live her best life instead of being eternally dragged back into pointless villainy by authors who can’t think of anything better! MEGGAN PUCEANU - As with Madelyne, she’s maybe not UNKNOWN per se, I mean she’s one of the lead characters of Excalibur, but I also don’t think she’s an A-lister at all either. I’ve written about her HERE and HERE and her relationship dynamics with Brian Braddock/Captain Britain HERE so I feel like those links will probably be better than another novel like I did for Haven and Maddie! CATSEYE AKA SHARON SMITH - The deaths of all the Hellions were a tragedy, but Catseye is the one I found most interesting and with the most potential! I’ve written about her HERE and the Hellions in general HERE with a segment on her. She’s just so cute and innocent and INTERESTING, I want to know so much more about how she behaves, how she perceives the world and interact with others, how she gets on with her teammates, how she reacts this and that, I just love her! MINDMELD - Appears for only one issue, is arguably the first transgender mutant in Marvel, and also a total badass who I think is really sexy. I write more about her HERE and HERE. HONORABLE MENTIONS I’m not freaking out over these girls AS MUCH or AS CONSISTENTLY but they all have a place in my heart!! Really all it takes is someone MENTIONING them to get me revved up all over again!

THRENODY AKA MELODY JACOBS- Another Marvel gal who can’t catch a break, when she’s remembered by anyone at all. I wrote about her HERE prior to her most recent return in Deadpool, then HERE about said return. I just really, really want Threnody to be happy. She’s suffered enough. Admittedly, that could be said for most women on this list, maybe all of them. GOSAMYR- Wrote about her HERE! Most people who know of her at all typically hate her but I find her extremely interesting. She’s like everything people HATE about women, every stereotype of “toxic femininity”, but then this is explained as part of her culture and biology, and this is, to her, what is normal, and how is she to KNOW that everyone acts nuts around her when she has no basis for knowing how they act when she’s NOT around? She interests me in the questions and dilemmas she raises, and I just kinda have a thing for women we’re supposed to hate because of their feminine traits. KWANNON- The Japanese woman whose body Betsy Braddock had for years. I was very excited when she was brought back to life and given her own series, I wanted for her at last to be a CHARACTER with her own PERSONALITY and LIFE that wasn’t just an excuse to give a white woman a ninja makeover, and then I got...Fallen Angels. And she’s just...she’s literally just 90s Psylocke. I was very disappointed. But I still like Kwannon HERSELF in terms of potential, and now that she’s back maybe she’ll become a real person sooner or later. SATURNYNE AND SAT-YR-9: Wrote about them HERE! I really like Sat-Yr-9 as a villain (I especially enjoyed her short stint in the Hellfire Club as White Queen with Viper as her lieutenant and not-so-subtle girlfriend) and I like Saturnyne as a sort of celestial bureaucrat, someone who isn’t a force of good or evil but a force of ORDER, like the opposite of “embodiment of chaos” type characters. MURMUR AKA ARLETTE TRUFFEAU: I have not written about her before but HERE IS HER WIKI ARTICLE. As with Gossamyr, she seems like the “sexy shallow slut we’re supposed to dislike” type, so of course I like her. BIANCA LANEIGE- A Generation X villain who bore a grudge against Emma Frost from her days in the Hellfire Club, I wrote about her HERE. She’s pretty comedic as a bad guy, but that’s not a bad thing! I’d like to see her around again one day, either as silly as ever or made more serious. LIFEGUARD: Wrote about here HERE. She was in the first X-Men graphic novel that I bought and I’ve always had a soft spot for her since. I really liked that she didn’t give a shit when she found out who her bio-father was, it’s such a refreshing reaction compared to the usual “what if I’m just like my father/I can’t believe I’m adopted/etc” angst. Comparatively, she’s super upset about her Shi’ar lineage, because that actually altered her INTERNAL self when it manifested, she started seeing everyone around her as PREY and I reckon that’s pretty distressing for someone like her. Always wanted to see her come back; she’s in the background at a Krakoa party! SILHOUETTE CHORD: Wrote about her HERE and HERE. I just like her I guess! She’s maybe not obscure per se since she’s a main cast member of The New Warriors, but I’ve never really seen her get any attention. BLACK MAMBA AKA TANYA SEALY: Wrote about her HERE! THE ASP AKA CLEOPATRA NEFERTITI: Wrote about her HERE! SKEIN AKA SYBIL DVORAK: Wrote about her HERE and HERE! She was on the “Woman Warriors” team with Black Mamba and Asp, and I like the idea they just hang out as friends a lot!! ANACONDA AKA BLANCHE “BLONDIE” SITZINSKI: Wrote about her HERE! I just want her to hug me...really, really hard :) SHARADA DARTHRI: A minor villain that shows up during the “all female X-Men” team era in...2013, I think? Wrote about her HERE. DRAGONFLY AKA VERONICA DULTRY: Wrote about her HERE MANTIS : Despite the fact that she’s very well-known for her film version in Guardians of the Galaxy, most people don’t seem to know much at all about her comics version even though she’s been an Avengers member since the 70s. Wrote about her HERE and HERE and HERE, someone else writes about her HERE PENDING These are characters that I have not had the chance to personally read up on myself yet, but I want to! Their names link to their Marvel wiki articles! TOPAZ FIREBIRD SNOWBIRD SILVERCLAW There are honestly countless others I’m probably not remembering but this is a good handful I think! Oh, yeah, and also...COOTER. Because her name is COOTER oh my god.

[roses-ruby]

Cherry Muffins and Lavender Tea

Namjoon x Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Sugary Fluff, Humor if you squint, Smut but it’s ugly, and the teeny tiniest angst

Warnings: curse words, sex, orgasms, oral (female receiving), choking kink, daddy kink, hot biker Namjoon, sex with clothes on, might make you hungry (i’m not sure about everything that’s considered a warning sorry! If there’s something you want me to add, tell me)

Word Count: 8,196

Summary: You’ve got feelings for my man Namjoon, the scary looking dork that drops by where you work. But how will you relay them?

A/N: My first story! Omfgsfkhbifb I’m nervous so please leave a kind word, I’ll love you forever. Might have mistakes cause i’m an idiot. None of this would have been possible without the great @countrysundae she’s my darling and inspiration and I love her sooooo much and you should too!!! Please appreciate her Pisces ass, and send her some love! Oof anyway, please enjoy

10:30

Originally set for 8, 10 fucking 30 is when the bells of your alarm informed you to awake for maybe the 99th time that morning. Groaning in displeasure you move your stiffened muscles to shut the damn thing off. This is a process that’s become a routine; waking up way later than originally planned, no matter how many timers set, or reminders kept. Even though you admit you are sleep deprived constantly, it doesn’t make you a heavy sleeper habitually! You wake up to the tiniest noises at night, from your roommate trying to sneak back into the shared room in ungodly hours of the night to the leaking tap in the bathtub. And yet your phone’s alarm is your placebo-it does absolutely nothing for you.

Though you do try. You keep about 5 alarms on at once, to your roommate’s expense who somehow is both a night owl and early bird all at once. Speaking of which-

“So, the witch finally sees daylight,” snickers Sana

“what the fuc--how long were you there?!” You rasped, grabbing at your erratic heart

“Just got in 5 minutes ago, that was my first alarm and trust me when I say I would’ve strangled you if I heard another.”

It’s true, she’s done it before. Your poor roommate was an occasional victim of your ruthless sleeping habits. You’d sometimes slip into conscious from slumber to hear her whine about your blaring alarms in her own sleeping state. Other times you’d wake up from a pillow landing on your face from a girl who’s had Enough.™ But you didn’t feel too bad for her, since you’ve given her the option of waking you up herself and she’s proven frivolous far too many times for such a simple task. Lowkey? She deserves it.

“Ooh another fun night, huh?” You grin in your sleepy state

Sana giggles “Mhmm, think Mark’s in love with me the poor chap,” she mocks his English accent making you both laugh at yet another fuckboi who’s become a victim to Sana’s lethal looks. Giving her a glance over, from her messy hair and smeared lipstick you conclude she indeed had a very fun night.

Sana came from a well-off background and had it all. Good-looks, smarts, the money, and a very good heart. She didn’t have to go to university, but her mom was not having it. The whole ‘be grateful for the opportunity people suffer to receive’ speech led her here. A parent’s guilt tripping wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with. You considered yourself an average person. Kinda cute, smart, headstrong and half of a pretty good character…Your parents on the other hand, were really wimpy.

“We always thought you’d go to the neighborhood community college”, your dad remarked in horror holding the prestige upper state university’s acceptance letter that arrived recently.

Your dad, who thinks jaded denim vests are cool.

“You’re too young to be living on your own, you’re still a bird who can’t use her wings correctly, not ready to leave the nest!” Said your distressed mom, who’s solution to all bad food was to put more cheese on it.

Don’t like your chicken curry? Pass on the parmesan sprinkler!

You hear the bang of hands on the table and a chair screeches, “let her go, she’ll come back with her tail between her legs”, your little brother who plays fortnite all day and is going through his ‘I hate feelings but secretly cry every night’ faze shouts before storming off towards his room.

All you do is sigh and roll your eyes, picking at your over-parmesaned chicken curry with your naan as your parents continue to nag, cause after this whole fiasco your mind was certainly convinced.

You’re going to the university.

_

Now that you are here, nothing was easy even for someone as headstrong as you. You were smart enough for a scholarship, but living expenses were something else entirely. Which led you to seek employment at a small café, a few miles from your university. It wasn’t the most bustling of places as it drew in a handful of consumers a day, even your fellow students chose the McDonalds right across the street. Everyone enjoyed the quick coffee and frozen fries, rather than your place’s slightly pricier fresh brews and handmade savory biscuits. Alas, you considerably appreciated the quiet composure your café provided. From the dim soft white lighting, to the 60’s slow jazz-which you routinely exchanged with a Studio Ghibli playlist from YouTube discreetly, blended well together. Gave you time to catchup on your schoolwork. Your boss was a chill 42-year-old who won the lottery a few years back, and let you clock in any time before 12, even if your morning shift began from 9. Maybe it had something to do with how the last waitress quit to work at McDonalds.

And he was always there.

Kim Namjoon. The quiet stud that had captivated your heart without even trying. Also, the fucking reason you wanted to get up earlier in the mornings damn it!

Namjoon was a psychology major who was always reading a new book. Mostly from his favorite author Haruki Murakami. And he always stopped by at the place you worked to indulged them. Parking his Harley-Davidson Softail outside and softly walking in with his old school leather jacket and gloves, ripped jeans, a book in his hand, his huge hard…helmet forgotten on the bike’s handle. He’d gently relay his familiar order of cherry muffins and lavender tea, raking his hair back with those beautiful black gloves, and striding to his usual seat in the back of the café.

He’d grace your presence 3 times a week, usually at 9:30 before his 10 am classes; another early bitch bird. All you wanted to do since then was to be able to take his order.

You had met Namjoon at the beginning of your first semester last year. But he hadn’t harbored much of your attention until that fateful day. Chilly winds and frequent rain were what you were adjusting to, as fall was in its peak with every other color on the leaves a vibrant orange, grabbing at your focus. Having arrived on time for once, you were engaged in your workspace. The co-owner and your co-worker of the small café, the boss’s niece, had taken a day’s leave, and you knew she’d beat your ass if you were late. Tray in hand, you served a bacon quiche and caffé americano to the table refuging a girl in an infinity scarf and glasses who didn’t bother to look up from her phone, when the door chimed open

It’s him again, you thought at the tall stranger you’ve seen around your campus in all black stepping towards the counter. He had small droplets of water on his leather jacket and hair from the rain. You didn’t realize you were staring until he awkwardly looked directly at you, standing with an empty round tray at the side of the table of the occupied girl, who you know is also taking a secret glance at him, and shyly smiles.

Cute.

You walk yourself behind the counter and smile, “hey there”

“Hi, um two cherr-“

“-y muffins and lavender tea, right?”

He nods

“Why don’t you just say the usual?” You laugh, wringing up his order in your old school register

“I didn’t think you’d remember me out of all the customers,” he states bashfully, dimples on display

“‘all the customers?’’ you laugh louder, “we get like 15 a day, I’m sure I’ll remember you”

“Oh, I thought I just came too early”

“You definitely do! I don’t have the energy to get up and comb my hair at 9 in the morning, much less bike to a café for cherry muffins”

“You like it?” he grins “it’s a Harley-Davidson, my dad owned one”

“It’s as pretty as you sweetie,” you don’t know where that confidence was coming from, because you’ve definitely haven’t talked to a boy like this before. Blame it on the chilly weather.

“oh, thank you,” he rakes his leather gloved hands through his hair, looking down at his shoes

Stepping towards your tea station, you grab open the bag of loose organic dried lavender buds, on the shelf above. Picking up a measuring spoon, you scoop and slide in some buds in the French press. You grab the boiling water on the electric stove, next to your station and slowly pour it onto the herbs. You close down the French Press and set a timer for 6 minutes.

Taking a breath, you look around the café. Namjoon stands there as towering as a tree, looking at his book, ‘Women who Run with the Wolves.’ Most people would go sit down if it wasn’t pickup, but he always stood right at the registrar. Strange. Unsurprisingly, you remember being intimidated as hell in the beginning. Usually people that come to the café are chill in the ‘harmless millennial hippie’ type of way, dressing themselves in mutable colors. But he looked like he would yell if you even slightly messed up his order or gave a ‘wrong look’ to his bike. You loosened up when his order was always so easy, and his book choices always so cute. You almost bust out laughing when he came in with ‘A fault in our stars;’ especially when he sat at his table with glossy eyes, trying to finish the last pages. His smile also melted all worries away.

Infinity scarf girl gets up to leave (but not before giving Namjoon a longing look), leaving you both alone in the balance of your heartbeats. There was slow piano from Kiki’s delivery service filling up your café’s background. The weather still faintly drizzling, the soft gray clouds seeping through the broad windows, making the café’s wooden brown hues a tad bit dimmer, yet the fairy lights radiant. Pedestrians with transparent umbrellas in beige coats and red hats pass by every so often, not a care in the world. Smells of fresh scones and cinnamon filled your nostrils, making you remember holiday nights at home. Though your thoughts often redirected themselves towards the handsome stranger and the harmony of the quiet fall day.

The timer dings and you get back on track, using the handle to press the floating buds down to the bottom of your French press. You head toward the counter’s display case. Below is a steel countertop with coffee/tea cups, silverware, small plates, trays and a set of tongs. You grab a cup and plate, fixing them properly you pour the tea. The steam drifts towards your face, an amazing aroma that complimented the purple complexion of your brew. Grabbing a set of tongs, you take out two large cherry muffins, placing them on a tray, along with the tea. You decide to grab a chocolate chip cookie as well from one of the clear cookie jars set on the wooden crown of the display case.

“Here ya go,” you place the tray in front of him. He places his book and gloves onto the tray and gets out his wallet from his beautifulbooty back pocket. After paying he picks up the tray and halts

“Cookie?” He holds up the chocolate chip cookie in his hand, a bit confused

“It’s on the house, they’re the best thing in the café, but I end up eating most of them, so might as well give ‘em out”

He smiles, “thank you, it looks delicious”

“No problem, anything for our loyal customers,” you both laugh, “it’s beautiful out today”

“Hm, not as much as you,” he states, walking away from you towards his usual seat. Now, he turned around very quickly after he said that, so you didn’t really get to see his face after such cheesy words, but the tips of his ears were red. Oh.

He’s cute cute.

Stunned, you stand there for a moment or two, just wide-eyed; staring at nothing, until you spin on your spot and head back into the tea vicinity of the café. You feel your heartrate rise and alarms go off in your head. But not the loud intrusive kind. The kind where a baker knows his three-layered chocolate fudge cake is ready. The ones where a mom takes freshly baked cinnamon rolls out in the morning. The ones when the apple pie is prepared to be sliced. Those kinds. Covering your extremely warm face with your hands, you muffle a squeal.

Since then, you’ve started paying close attention to Kim Namjoon.

You didn’t know what it was, his tall broad frame and long thick legs, which you wanted to be choked with. His large hands in those chunky leather gloves or when he took them off, to handle the pages of his book delicately; his long skinny fingers would graze over the soft wood, both things you wanted to be choked with. Or his keen eyes that would get larger or darker depending on what part of the book he was reading, and you imagined in which manner they would present themselves with while he’s choking y-Ok. Ok. Ok. You had a kink. Endeared was how you felt at his intimidating appearance.

You also adored how far away from intimidating he actually was. You were smitten with his gentle demeanor in dealing with people. His pacifist nature, and how much he loved tiny crabs, how he was so respectful towards everyone, younger or older, never judging anyone’s appearance or his love for characters that’re as large, and clumsy as him, like Ryan from that Kakaotalk app. And his laughed that carried large amounts of joy over cheesy, silly things ultimately making you laugh as well.

You were sure you loved Kim Namjoon, yet you barely spoke to him-

I mean who’s gonna disturb a huge scary-looking dork when he’s trying to read? Certainly not you. What you desired is a way to get close to him somehow, and for that you needed to know more about him. It wasn’t hard to pick up gossip though, when you were friends with the loudest chatter mouth on the planet.

You told Sana once about your silly crush and she shrieked so hard it sounded like a howl. The next day she had all the deets on who she referred to as ‘Hunkjoon.’ He had an IQ of 148, he hates seafood, he’s so clumsy that his friends refer to him as ‘the god of destruction,’ favorite color is black (no duh), he’s well-known, terribly smart, and to your dismay, associated with the exceedingly popular frat boys Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin.

Ugh

Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin, or who you so kindly referred to as the Seokbitches, were the schools James Dean. ‘Icon of teenage disillusionment.’ Hehe, perfect definition by google. They were notorious, for playing ghosts in their classes, throwing a party every.single.damn.day., never keeping their dick™ in their pants, and having the most obnoxious laughs on the earth…

Ok, so maybe only you knew them for that. To others they were the teenage love and rebellion dream, James Dean. They never attended classes, because they were fuckthesystem peeps, threw a party everyday so the poor souls stuck in an endless cycle of capitalist warfare aka their fellow students could enjoy the more fun things life has to offer, indulged in every part of youth-including the 24/7 horny part, and had the most beautiful laughs in the damn planet.

How were they Namjoon’s closest friends…How? Anyone with a functioning brain can tell the vast difference between the trinity. Namjoon attended all his classes (yet fate didn’t give you a class with him, the bitch), he actually read books, and he wasn’t hooking up with 2-3 girls every night, unlike certain people.

You heard from a classmate a while back that ‘bout two years ago Namjoon had a serious girlfriend. Since their breakup, he hasn’t been with anyone else. It’s good that he’s single but you’ve still only talked to him here and there. A few shy glances, a few awkward touches. Nothing more, but lord do you want more, alot more. What if a girl more daring gets him first?  Do you really need angst in your life? NO! but you are still at a loss of what to do. You had one boyfriend so far, and it was one of your worst experiences.

The guy was a total creep. And the worst part? You asked him out. All your friends had relationships and he was someone who rode the bus with you, making you laugh here and there. So, being the usual teenager, you thought it’d be a good idea to date him, like a fool. Who knew he wasn’t just being charming, and making fun of people (trying to be edgy as you now know) was a hobby for him? You did. Right after you overheard him announce the fact that you look like a winged bat when you suck dick just to make his jerk-ass friends laugh. It was so humiliating, as you never did something of the sorts with him, yet his friends would stick out their teeth in a ‘vampire like manner’ whenever they passed you in the hallway, as well as your first heartbreak. You got him back by filling his locker with Limburger cheese, from your mom’s collection of cheeses. His gym clothes smelled for a month, and people called him cheeseboi for the rest of the year.

You shed your blind innocence that day and knew that men are trash. Namjoon isn’t like that though, and you’re surer of that than anything. He’s special for you and you want to be the special one for him. Sadly, you just didn’t know how to start a conversation with Namjoon, without looking like you jumped in boiling water. I mean you had hook-ups in college. Who doesn’t play around here and there? But fuck-this is definitely the first time you actually like someone. Like really like them, so you just clam up and don’t know what to do. That’s where you are today.

You bounce from your bed, heading towards the bathroom. “I’m late again,” you mumble.

Sana hears that (at this point she could have better hearing than dogs)

“Hunkjoon, huh?”

“That’s not his name Sasha”

“Listen, why do you even spend your time trying to get with him in that boring café?” Sana shouts, hopping off her bed she makes her way to the bathroom and throws her hands around you who’s brushing her teeth. “You should ask him out, maybe to a club. A little booty popping, ear sucking, mouth licking, and he’s yours”

“Please don’t ever use any of those words in that way ever again.”

“I’m serious!” Exasperated she throws her hands in the air before resting them on each of your shoulders together and squeezes you. “You just need a change of scenery, that place is no hook-up central for us modern kids. Just one party, and he’ll be all over you.” You tug her off your back and narrow your eyes-looking at her through the mirror; you continue to brush your teeth. She knows you want something far from a hookup with Namjoon, yet she-

“And then,” she smirks, “maybe your mouth would be full of his cum-not toothpaste”

You choke.

“Sana what the fuck,” you rage running after the laughing vixen with your toothbrush as a makeshift knife

“Don’t act like it’s not what you want!” She cackles as you tackle her onto the bed ready to stab her eyes out when your phone rings. Oh shit. You know exactly who that is. Picking it up, you run to the bathroom, spitting out your toothpaste

“H-h-hello?”

“Where. in. Jesus’s. name. are. you?!”

“O-oh, coming Linda, I’m in traffic” Sana proceeds to imitate a car beep sound at that-“and I’ll be there in 5 minutes!”

“If you aren’t, I’ll personally serve your head as our main dish this afternoon!” She screeches before hanging up

“Shit,” you catch your breath, “I gotta go,” scrambling around, you find something appropriate to wear in late April weather. You brush your hair in a hurry and throw on a high ponytail. Sana just watches you the whole time, staring at you up on her elbows from her bed looking deep in thought. Grabbing one of Sana’s car keys and your purse, you rush out the door with a quick bye to Sana. She doesn’t reply back but after you are out the door she flings back onto her bed, arms expanded.

“I’ll ask Hobi,” she says to herself

_

Parking in the small lot behind the café, you run inside the back door. You gather yourself, fixing your hair and your fast heartbeat, you wrap on an apron and head to the front.

Linda spots you right away.

“You’re late,” she grits

“Yeah, traffic sucks,” you grin awkwardly, praying she’ll believe you.

“Just get to work, the pound cakes are almost ready to take out,” she points toward the oven. You nod, heading into the vicinity of the oven in the back next to the stove.

“Hey Linda,” someone shouts making you turn, “the person at table 3 wants some sourdough starter”

Linda acknowledges, moving into the back storage where the starters where kept.

You spot a girl. A new girl. A very very pretty girl, with long light brown hair up to her waist, and a delicate body. She meets your eyes and smiles and you return the gesture before looking away like you didn’t momentarily become gay looking at her soft features.

It’s good to have her around, you conclude. Usually you worked the morning shift with Linda 3 times a week, taking afternoon classes during those days. (coincidently when Namjoon comes by) You know there’s a girl who works the afternoon shift, but you never really ran into her. And since you do come late 1 out of 3 times, Linda ends up doing most of the work herself, including making all the café’s delicacies. You’re so very thankful to Linda and her uncle for not firing you, and very glad that Linda has some actual help now.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when the oven timer dings and the door chimes open.

The new girl greets the customer cheerily while you concentrate on taking an enticing whiff of the vanilla pound cakes, about to pull open the oven’s door when you stop dead in your tracks. You’d recognize that deep voice anywhere.

Turning your head so fast, you feel your neck burn from whiplash you spot your Namjoon finishing his order to your co-worker. He meets your eyes for a moment, and god you’re sure you look like a fish.

“Would you like anything else? We have really good chocolate chip cookies,” pipes the newcomer

“I know, they’re delicious,” he catches your eyes again, “but no thank you, not this time”

“Aww, well I love them a bit too much. Even though I’m new I’ve had quite a few,” she starts ringing up his order

“I thought I haven’t seen you around here”

“Moved in recently and kinda have trouble unpacking…I need a stronger body ya’know”

“Is that so,” Namjoon quirks a brow and you feel like you’ll throw up. Why is Namjoon late? Catch 22 didn’t seem like his style of book? Why the fuck is she giggling so much? Who let her steal all your cookies? And why is his hair so much messier than usual? He looks so cute omg?... What’s that burning smell?

…Shit

You gawk at the oven in horror as Linda shouts your name from a mile away.

_

Sana’s scrolling through her phone on her tummy when you bonk her head with your purse

“Ow, what the fuck-”

“When’s the next frat fiasco? I need to relive some stress”

She smiles, “I knew you’d come around, and that’s why I went ahead and asked Hobi to bring Hunkjoon tonight.”

You beam at the mention, “Sana you angel!” Then immediately scowl, “Wait at a seokbitch party? Just fucking great”

“Don’t be so sour,” Sana sighs, sitting up, “Namjoon doesn’t go to many parties anyway so his best friend was the only solid way to bring him.”

Giving it a thought, you beam again, jumping on Sana

“Sana you angel!”

“Whatever’s up with your hair by the way, looks like you’ve been pulling on it.”

“Don’t ask…long day.”

_

Arriving at the party, you grimace at the smoke of marijuana blanketing you as soon as you enter.

“Alright, Hobi should be around here somewhere,” Sana looks around,” standing on the tippy toes of her heels, trying to look past the frisky bodies, but it’s of no use with the amount of people in the room.

The room was packed with tipsy children. There was barely any elbow space even though the frat house was huge as you and Sana squeezed through hot, sweaty dancing bodies. Some unbalanced drunkards clumsily pushing into you every now and then and you wondered how anyone came to these things. It’s hot, and everyone smelled of axe and sweat. Parties would be much better with just a modest group of people you know, or maybe that’s the small-town girl in you speaking.

No! You cringed internally. You must forget about your outdated methods and passive behavior. Tonight, you will become someone completely new. Someone who takes action.

“Oh there!” Sana shouts over the music, waving furiously to someone by the stairs

Soon after you hear the jubilant voice of Jung Hoseok as he comes into view to greet Sana with a hug, and after being temporarily blinded by his smile you give him a once over or call that twice, because fuck He looked good in a simple white tee, tight blue jeans, dark brown Timberlands and his hair pushed up with what seemed like some gel and messy fingers (think back to Gayo Daejejeon 2018 mic drop)

“This is the girl I was telling you about,” Sana points at you

Hoseok joins in on your shameless gawking and grins

Embodying you was a baby pink thin strapped mini dress, and when you say mini, you mean your black Chantelle Présage lace thong is showing mini, but you’re a woman on a mission, and you didn’t care if you were naked at this point. Your hair was thoroughly straightened, and you went for a glossy cherry makeup look, courtesy of Sana. You weren’t trying to look like a cherry muffin, buuuut you didn’t mind if that’s what people thought, specifically one person.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he extends his hand, eyes duskier than a moment ago

You should wear shades in front of him or you’re sure you’ll go blind.

You shake his hand and give him one of your most forced friendly smiles, trying not to make much conversation as you just wanted one thing. Though that shiver upon your spine at his grip tells you otherwise.

Hoseok motions for you both to follow him and you pick his trail

Sana elbows you

“We talked about this! You’re supposed to be acting like a lamb, ready to be jumped on at any time, not a fox,” she whispers at your obvious display of wanting nothing to do with the Hyena

“I’m being nice! I am! This is how I’m nice!”

Sana rolls her eyes, and you sulk. It’s not your fault she is a master seductress, and you just don’t know how to be kind to the guy who’s trying to undress you with his eyes when he knows you’re here for his friend. She told you two things about seducing men, act completely incompetent and laugh at all their lame jokes. The more you feed a guy’s concocted ego, the more you feed his desire for you. And well, a way to the man’s heart is through feeding him…or something right?

But all your thoughts disappear into nothing once you lay eyes upon the man you’ve been wanting for almost a year.

Kim Namjoon, holy fuck.

Never has a loose black tee and oversized maroon velvet bomber’s jacket looked that good on anyone before. He commands your undivided attention with that low-neck line and gelled up hair. Healthy, glowing skin spread out like a canvas. His jeans ripped in all the beautiful places around the man’s thick, strong thighs, and black derby’s? Classic, yet defiant as always. He was fucking beautiful and you were awestruck. Hoseok says something to the group of 3 guys standing by the back sofa, including Namjoon, most likely about you, but you don’t hear anything once Namjoon locks eyes with you. There’s evident surprise in his eyes, which dims into concentration at the dress you’re wearing.

“So Namjoon,” Hoseok interrupts your thoughts, “I heard you both’ve met before?”

Namjoon doesn’t break away from you for a moment, smiling slightly “we’ve met, it’s nice to see you here”

He was being strangely vague. “You too,” you mutter

You could physically feel Sana scoff at the virginity act.

“Alright, I can use a drink-Ali, Jason, Sana let’s go get them”, Hoseok works fast to evade the intrusive attention on the both of you

“Why do you need 3 people to help you with drinks”, says a confused Jason

Flustered at the man’s impaired ability to read between the lines Hoseok scrambles for another excuse, “um…uh, I don’t know what you want? And uh there’s a lot of people, so uh”

Jason stubborn as ever quirks, “well I can just tell you what I wan-”

“JASON! ALI!” Sana shouts and everyone, aside from Namjoon, who won’t turn away from you, glances at her, “be a darling and pour my drink for me,” she uses her sultry voice, throws a sly smile, and they all get led away by her, even Hoseok, looking hypnotized

Watching them walk away you let out a sigh. This is it. This is your moment. You really should’ve had a shot before this. Drunk you wouldn’t clam up and clench her buttocks that sober you is doing for some reason. Clearing your throat, you start blurting out the first forms of conversation that settles in your mind.

“Nice to see you here, finally away from the café-not that I don’t like seeing you there…I mean I do, but this is nice too hehe”

You mentally slap yourself for the worst beginning. When have you ever been this quiet? Sana couldn’t get you or your alarm to shut up most of the time and this is the moment you choose to get awkward? Maybe this is it. He’ll just walk away now and you can wallow in self-pity.

“It’s great to see you too, out of that café…not that I don’t like it as well” he smiles

Your whole form relaxes, and you feel the knot of pressure in your back coming undone. You know you’re overthinking, know that your mind is self-sabotaging you, so it can get out of this hellhole back into its safe space between your bedsheets. So, you take a breath and focus on his eyes, trying to bring back the confidence of an 80’s café waitress. “You got yelled at pretty hard this morning, were you ok?” He asks

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I kinda deserved it and Linda’s the biggest sweetheart, she would never actually hurt me.” Minus where she almost tore your hair out in the backroom

“…speaking of which, why were you late this morning?” You slapped yourself again

He gave you a look. Shit. “You track me?” he grins

“No-no, nonono…n-yes. I track all my customers”, you smile awkwardly, “they keep me on my toes ya’ know the little bastards” If only you could forever tape your mouth

It was a bad joke but he lets out a chuckle where his eyes turn into little crescents and his dimples poke through his skin

“Well, I missed my alarm this morning, so I was too late to arrive on time…but I still wanted to come…”

“…Why?”

“I just,” he stares at you, “did”

“I see. It’s our tea isn’t it.”

Both of you share a laugh

“You look beautiful by the way”

“This little thing?” you twirl your hips, “just found this in the back of my closet”

The brag was true because you never fucking dressed up for anything, yet always shop like you do.

When you look at him again, you see his eyes dark at the move you just did, which you’re sure exposed your ass

Gathering courage, you start walking toward and up the stairs not giving Namjoon another glance. You could feel his bewilderment through your exposed back, as he follows you like a lost puppy. You hide a smile. Heading into an open room, you find its balcony. Outside, the spring wind picks up your hair and you take in a deep breath, letting go of all your nerves that tense up once you feel the balcony door open and close and the presence of another person in the little island.

“Are you alright?” You feel his breath on you, and you barricade a shudder

“I’m fine…I just couldn’t breathe in there with all the weed,” you turn and smile at him.

“I hate it too,” He smiles back

There’s a moment before you both break eye contact and he’s stepping up beside you

Looking out from the balcony, you pander in the serenity of the dark night and silent winds. The music is still mutely conscious in both your eardrums, as well as the laughter of kids who came here to forget tomorrow. There’s always a calmness you feel with him, no matter the weather or locality. The tips of your arms are touching and the barring heat your entire left side simmers in provides you with the translation of your need to be closer with him.

“I’m sorry I’m not good at small talk”

You turn your face to him as he takes a breath before speaking again

“I’m very awkward, sorry about that”

“You aren’t the one who’s awkward, you raise a brow, I’ve been making bad jokes all night. And well, who’s good at things like small talk?”

He smiles at you, “Your jokes aren’t bad,” he says bringing his face closer to yours, “and I love hearing you talk”

“Thank you” There’s another silence before you ask, “started a new book recently?’

“I did!” He quirks, “‘Yellow Wallpaper’ by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, it’s disturbing yet addictive. Like an Edgar Allen type you know. The increasing dread creates a form of suspense, which feels like a drug. Even though you can tell the ending won’t be good, you carry on led by a strange empathy as if you’ve become the character and it-“

Namjoon stops suddenly and stares at you smiling. “Um…sorry I got carried away, I’m probably boring you”

“Nuh-uh” you stop him immediately, “You aren’t boring at all. I love hearing you talk”

There’s a radiant blush on his cheek as red as your cherry lips, and you just want to devour him. “When I,” he begins looking away, “When I come to the café, you always seem so interested in what I’m reading. Most people don’t really care about that from me. They care that I ride bikes or about my popular friends. Not that I mind. I’m fine keeping them on a surface level. But,” He looks at you, “I want to know you better.”

“Me too” you blurt out very quickly

Your faces are so adjacent you can smell his soft mint toothpaste from his steady breathing. He’s staring at your glossy lips, your whole form is covered with his warmth, fluttering your senses leisurely

“Want a taste,” you whisper just for him to hear

“I bet it’s as delicious as it looks,” he lets out a heavy breath

“Well lucky you cause tonight I’m serving them specially for you”

You close the distance between your mouths and take in his plump lips. It wasn’t rushed, yet it wasn’t slow. It felt like the most perfect kind of kiss in the silent spring, the one that’s described in timeless romance novels. The one that you tell your children to look for, if they’re fortunate enough in their youth. That they’ll know it’s from the one.

He brings his hand upon your cheek and rubs it tenderly with his thumb. You both move back and stare in each other’s eyes.

“Well…was it delicious?”

“Better than cherry muffins,” he licks his lips to taste your cherry gloss on them

You crinkle your eyes to cringe and giggle

“You’re so cute,” he says and he’s kissing you again

This time he slips his tongue in your mouth and you hum in content, grabbing at the back of his blonde hair. Your tongues dance wildly, and Namjoon reaches for every nook and cranny of your wet cavern. Immoral sounds are escaping you both as your closed eyes burn in delight. Putting your legs on each side of his torso, he hurriedly picks you up from under your thighs and easily carries you inside the room, towards the bed.

You both break off as soon as he lands your bodies on the spring. His body still contains the heat from your thighs, and he’s pressed so close to you, you can feel your nipples against his rock-hard chest as well as the tent in his jeans. Breathing heavily, you stare in his starry eyes, filled with so much lust it feels like they’re dripping.

With a shaky breath you try to melt his lips onto yours again, just for him to shift back.

“Do you want this?” He asks, determined to move off if you refuse him

That would be a sin. “Yes.” You speak clearly, “I always wanted you, since I first saw you, Namjoon.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, before he’s on you again like the kindest, warmest deity he is.

He’s back into exploring your mouth as your hands find their home roaming his broad back. As he moves his hips up and down your wet entrance, a heat shoots up through your spine. His hands are kneading your ass, and everything is moving in slow motion for what feels like forever. Breaking off your mouth, he moves his kisses along your neck down to your cleavage, sucking hickeys on sensitive areas you moaned around. Growling at the invasive flimsy fabric surrounding your chest, he begins to tear it apart. His hands pulled down your transparent bra. You gasp at the intrusion of air surrounding your upper body.

“Mmm, fuck yes baby,” you could feel yourself soaking his cloth covered crotch as you fuck yourself upon his restricted dick.

Namjoon smirks reaching towards your back to take off your bra, letting his warm fingers tickle your skin as you lift your back to help him remove it and discard it to the side. Namjoon takes you in, caressing your face and you feel like he’s going to compliment you before he’s spitting words in your ear

“You little slut, you came here just to be fucked didn’t you”

Flustered you splutter, “Yes, ah please”

“That’s yes daddy for you baby,” he uses his large fingers to take hair off your face and removes his jacket and shirt

“Yes daddy, please,” you eye his tan muscles and broad chest. He noses your jaw and takes his mouth around your areola. You immediately run a hand through his golden locks, your mouth hangs open as he flicks your nipple with his tongue. Around his arms was sunken skin, in the form of muscles and you run your hands through every cervix.

Your breathing is labored

He moves back, moving your thong slightly to the right as he dips two fingers into you,

“Drenched and shameless muffin,” he mutters scissoring your entrance slightly, staring at you darkly

You are sprawled out for him like an unwrapped muffin. One leg hangs off the bed, while the other is desperately wrapped around his torso as if you’re scared he’ll leave. Your breasts are exposed and wet with saliva, and you’ve just handed him your cunt for the taking. You’re high off his soft sandalwood scent, as he takes your chest in his large hand, rolling your nipple in his thumb and index finger, pulling it slightly. His fingers are wet from your juices and you’re embarrassed you’re this wet. Vulnerable, you shut your eyes and look away before he grabs your cheeks with his hand and brings your face back towards him, hitting a certain spot that has you arching your back and knitting your brows.

“Don’t close your eyes baby girl, I need your focus completely on me”

“Then no more teasing,” you pout

Namjoon chuckles as he brings his fingers dripping with your silk into his mouth; looking straight into your soul he licks around his fingers in the lewdest way possible. “Sweeter than cherries” he mutters, slowly unraveling your wrapped leg and caresses the inside of your wet thigh, never letting go as if reassuring you that he’s right here. Languidly, he noses down your navel and further below until he’s lined with your aching core

“Daddy” you whimper

Giving you kitten licks around your folds, he licks a long strip before placing his tongue slightly inside your walls and suckles your juices. Your legs were on each side of his head, and you pulled at his hair out of frustration. The higher your voice went, the more he licked, bringing his tongue around your bundle of nerves and gently rolling the nub around. His hands traveled from your thighs to your waist, and slowly towards your breasts and kneaded. He flattened his tongue against your folds again, to take a finer taste of you, as he hummed knowing you were close. He took his right hand off your chest and used it to slide two fingers into your inner depths.

His mouth then went back to your clit, slowly rolling it around his tongue in a circular motion as his fingers drilled into you faster and faster. You let out a string of curses as your thighs began to shake, and the knot in your stomach becoming undone. You came with a yelp as your eyes began to see stars and vision whitened.

All your sudden adrenaline left you and your limbs limped onto the bed, fingers no longer in Namjoon’s hair. Letting out heavy breaths you saw Namjoon slowly coming out of your legs to face you. His thick lips were wet with your juices, and he licked through them and smiled.

“You’re so beautiful baby girl,” he said before kissing you again. Your tongues danced through your exhaustion, and you moved your hand towards his hard on. You felt him hiss into your mouth as you slowly rubbed him through his jeans. Backing off his mouth you smiled, it’s your turn daddy, and undid his zipper. You felt his hard dick in your hand, blessed in length. Spreading precum around his shaft, you watched him twist his expression. He reached into his back pocket and took out a condom, tearing off the wrapper with his teeth and handing it to you.

You gave him a smile as you rolled the condom onto his length and lined it with your entrance-giving him a hand job as he gradually moved into you. Once he was fully sheathed, he took a moment, before pulling out a slamming into you again

You let out a gasp at his pace, still a bit sensitive from your last orgasm. He was relentless and pounded into you over and over again, as the whole bed shook at his force.

“F-fuck dadd-y ooh” you cried as the same knot appeared inside your stomach. You grabbed his hand on the side of your head and brought it up to your face to give it a kiss. Light headed from the force of his thrusts, you could still feel him looking at you as you brought his hand upon your neck and laid it out flat

He cursed at your submission, and lightly put pressure on your neck “You’re such a good girl, daddy’s good girl, good girl fuck,” his paced faltered and you could feel your orgasm approaching with the pressure around your neck. With his other hand he stimulated your clitoris and that’s all it took to have you cuming once again.

Your mind travels back to how much you’ve wanted this-wanted him. His strong arms are no longer hidden under his bulky jacket, his fingers no longer clean with traces of paper fiber, but with your juices. How the hands you’ve wanted for so long around your neck, the eyes you waited to be filled with just you, the moans you suffered to hear from his luscious lips. It’s all happening. It’s all yours and no amount of overthinking will take this away.

With a few more thrusts he reached his own peak with a grunt, flopping down on you shortly afterward. You could feel his heavy, hot breathing on your neck and you wrapped your hands around him. You take a few more huffs before talking to him.

“I really like you” you whisper

“So I’ve heard,” he chuckles moving off you, he picks you up to move you upright in the bed with your head on the pillow and your arms still around him. He lays down next to you. “I’m not going anywhere baby. I really like you too. You didn’t really think I came for the tea did you”

Your heart soars and you meet his dimpled smile, He looks so youthful with his after sex glow, “Hey I make that tea with a lot of love and care!”

“Right, I’m sorry,” he laughs

“I didn’t know you liked me, your head is always in your books”

“Well originally, I came to chill and read. Until I found the cutest waitress that makes amazing tea-“

“-Shut up,” you jab him with a giggle

“-and I didn’t want to seem creepy, so I just payed attention to my books. But I did try to talk to you. I would stand as still as a tree next to the registrar trying to think of something to say. You tended to look intimidated of me, so I always froze up and just sat down. I asked my friends how to talk to you, and they kept giving me strange advice. I don’t think they know how to get a girl without sexual innuendos. They didn’t know how you looked, just knew you as café girl. If Hoseok found out you were café girl tonight, he’d probably try and do something stupid”

You took in the information he gave you and put the puzzle pieces together. You both were huge overthinking dorks. “I was only intimidated in the beginning,” you begin, “even if I was I still found you hot and probably would’ve jumped on your dick had you asked”

He suppresses some coughs while turning red

Smirking you lead him on, “Oh, so you’re shy now but wanted me to call you daddy just a few minutes ago”

“T-that’s” he begins, and you laugh out loud thinking this is definitely your Namjoon

“What about your choking kink? That was cute and unexpected” he gives you a sly grin

“Wait, shut u-that’s not…it’s your fault with those leather gloves, and leather jackets”

You poke his dimple out of mock anger and he tickles you. The rest of the time is spent by talking out your feelings, your dreams, favorite books, and desserts until you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

_

You wake up by what you believe is your alarm. Opening your groggy eyes, you look up towards the ceiling of a room that wasn’t yours. After a minute more in conscious you realize it’s not your alarm ringing, but a pounding residing from the closed door of the stranger’s room.

“Can you guys please give me my room back now,” shouts a frustrated Hoseok

That’s when you remember the nights events and look at a sleepy Namjoon next to you. After checking the time of 7:41 shining through the digital clock on the nightstand next to what you now know as Hoseok’s bed, you smile and cuddle up to the warm body.

“Go away Hoseok,” Namjoon groans, “My baby’s trying to sleep.”

Both of you ignore Hoseok’s whines of protest as you whisper to Namjoon

“It’s fine, I’m glad he’s here so I can get to work on time for once. My alarm never wakes me up”

“Babe don’t worry, from now on I’ll be your personal alarm. As long as you can be my cherry muffin”

“I’ll do you one better and make one for you at the café”

“Those cherry muffins taste good,” he looks at you, “but you taste better,” and winks

You giggle until you hear the disturbed voice of Jung Hoseok behind the door,

“You guys are disgusting and have no idea how to whisper”

...

“GET OUT OF MY ROOM”

[forgottenlivesobverse]

Q&A with Aditya Bidikar

Today we have a Q&A with Aditya Bidikar, writer and comics letterer, whose Forgotten Lives story ‘Valhalla Must Fall!’ features the Graeme Harper Doctor and begins like this:

‘Nimh lives. Nimh watches.

‘Time passes. Nimh exists, alone. She watches the ocean rise and recede in the space of a thought. She watches the little ball light the sky and the sky dim as it goes down. Since Nimh gained consciousness, it has taken her all of her time to understand that the light and the little ball are connected. They move quickly, and she has to concentrate to observe them, but she has since reasoned that one causes the other.

‘She begins to pay attention to other things that move quickly. Sometimes the ocean stands still, and it changes colour, and she feels a kinship with it. She directs her thoughts towards the ocean, but she doesn’t know if it hears her.’

FL: Tell us a bit about yourself.

AB: I first discovered Doctor Who through the novelisations, because my school library had a nearly full collection, which is why I'll always see Doctor Who as a prose phenomenon that happens to have a TV show attached to it.

I learned to read from comics, and I learned to love reading through Doctor Who, so I think those two things will always be a part of my life, though they may wax and wane in importance.

FL: What attracted you to this project?

AB: For one, getting to write the Doctor – I've never written a story with the actual character, and that was something I wanted to do at least once. Secondly, getting to create a new Doctor from scratch, with all the things I liked best about the Doctor, was irresistible.

FL: Each story in the book features a different incarnation of the Doctor. Tell us about yours.

AB: While my Doctor has a smaller speaking part than the other main character, my story is absolutely driven by the Doctor's actions, and that was my main mode of characterisation. This is a Doctor that thinks and plans ahead, while trying to reckon with the consequences of their actions. Outside of this story, I like to think of my Doctor as someone who has projects across space and time that they cultivate and check in on from time to time.

FL: These Doctors only exist in a couple of photos. How did you approach the characterisation of your incarnation?

AB: Initially, my Doctor was going to be male and bearded, like the original Harper photograph, and I was planning to characterise him as a slightly cold space wanderer with hippie ideas, to go with the era of stories mine is based on. But then I saw Paul's illustration, and I knew I needed to work with that, so my Doctor is now much more genial and playful, and of ambiguous gender. As for the dialogue, I went with the voice in my head, which sounded a bit like Sylvester McCoy, except far more chilled-out and 60s-influenced.

FL: What's your story about?

AB: One of my favourite things about Doctor Who has been the fact that other than probably Raymond Cusick, most people who worked on it creatively got to own their work – especially the writers – which is why we have so many unauthorised ‘spin-off’ properties, like Faction Paradox, Iris Wildthyme, and even Chris Cwej. That's a definite contrast to American superhero comics, where creators were constantly shorted on what they deserved, whether legally, or by force, or via outright cons, and their contributions became corporate intellectual property.

My story is a commentary on that, wrapped up in what was my primary image for the story – ‘Doctor Who in a Jack Kirby universe’. As I mentioned in the previous answer, that was originally going to be characterised as ‘Doctor Who as the Silver Surfer’, as a response to the recent ‘Silver Surfer as Doctor Who’ comic from Marvel. But the work-for-hire nature of comics, and the resultant regurgitation of more-or-less the same stories, but bigger and with a higher budget, and their numbing effect on culture at large – these were the things I became far more interested in, particularly since the apocryphal quote ‘The Kirby tradition is to make a new comic’ became a cornerstone for my treatment of the idea.

FL: What were your main influences?

AB: My primary influences were the Doctor Who novels I've read over the years – especially some of the Missing Adventures / Past Doctor Adventures that synthesised the Doctor they were using with a more modern point of view on the past (particular favourites in this ilk are The Man in the Velvet Mask and Managra).

Other than that, there were of course the Kirby comics, but also things that people like Alan Moore and Grant Morrison have brought to bear on the comics that came after.

This story is very much in those traditions.

FL: Who would be your ideal casting for a pre-Hartnell Doctor?

AB: I like the idea of a female pre-Hartnell Doctor, and since she's already played the character once (though in a parody) and was apparently considered for a hot minute back in the 80s, I'd love to see what Joanna Lumley would do if she were to play a pre-Hartnell Doctor in the new series.

FL: What other projects are you working on at present?

AB: I've been working on a long-form sf comics series for the last year or so that might be of interest to Doctor Who / Faction Paradox fans, but I think it'll take a few more years to come to fruition. In the meantime, I'm writing shorter comics and prose stories that should see publication sometime next year.

Apart from the writing, I'm lucky enough to work with some of the best current comics creators on some excellent comics, which I highly recommend you buy.

[uribo-in-space]

Star Trek TOS First Time Viewing  Reaction - S2E2: Who Mourns for Adonais?

DISCLAIMER: I have seen some TNG and Voyager when I was a child and later the AOS movies as a teenager. I felt quarantine time was the right moment to begin the ambitious project “Star Trek marathon 2020/(2021?20??)”, meaning I’m going to watch all of Star Trek starting with TOS finishing with Disco (or maybe we have Strange New Worlds by the time I catch up haha). I started TOS last month and I AM LIVING. IT’S AWESOME and sparks so much joy. I decided I could just write up my thoughts as I am viewing it for the first time as a memory of the experience, not knowing most episodes at all. So, there we go.

Spoilers obviously - just in case somebody else is 50 years late like me, haha.

Opening scene: Scotty flirts with a female lieutenant on the bridge. So far so cute. What about the dialogue from Bones and Kirk accompanying this scene though?

MCCOY: I'm not sure I like that, Jim. KIRK: Why, Bones? Scotty's a good man. MCCOY: And he thinks he's the right man for her, but I'm not sure she thinks he's the right man. On the other hand, she's a woman. All woman. One day she'll find the right man and off she'll go, out of the service. KIRK: I like to think of it not so much losing an officer as gaining SCOTT: Come along. (He and Carolyn enter the turbolift.) KIRK: Actually, I'm losing an officer.

like - what? I had to rewatch this scene to fully understand what they’re saying. I think it’s interesting that, despite TOS being like 50 years old now, I find it easy to forget we’re actually in the 60s/70s when binge watching. Watching it now is sometimes a weird meta experience as you tend to overlook elements that were considered super futuristic in the 60s but are perfectly normal now, so that you actually miss some FUTURISTIC elements because you’re living those aspects of FUTURE already. Yes, of course women quitting their jobs after marriage still happens, but it is not considered a “rule” or “natural order of events” anymore, and is (talking from a western perspective) more of a choice and you would not assume this happening automatically. Especially if you produced an utopian sci-fi series today, that concept would probably not be included. Anyway, it’s pretty interesting that female Starfleet members seem to drop out of service after marriage and it is not considered something a captain or anyone can do something about in the future (I mean, apparently the men still continue their service? I only have divorced Bones for reference so far though). Anyway, TLDR, I am not judging the 60s relics as they are a product of their time, I think they are rather an interesting addition to the viewing experience in 2020, considering the writers did think this concept would persist in the far future. Back to the episode.

IS THAT A GIANT HAND IN SPACE

I love that Chekov casually assumes he has hallucinations - like bro do you have reasons to believe that and what did you do in your free time

This hand really kills me. I also could not believe what I am seeing but I love it

Spock stating he is not offended because you need emotions to be offended - interesting, Spock, so what happened when Kirk pulled a yo mama joke on you in that Paradise Hippie Love Romance Pollen episode (man that was a gem of an episode)

Chekov has one of the most HILARIOUS lines in that episode (next to having one of the most hilarious hairstyles, his hairstyle looks like an interesting over the top take on the Beatles haircut and his head looks so much like a mushroom I feel like he has a side job in Mario Kart):

APOLLO: Search your most distant memories, those of the thousands of years past, and I am there. Your fathers knew me, and your father's fathers. I am Apollo.

CHEKOV: And I am the tsar of all the Russias.

KIRK: Mister Chekov.

CHEKOV: I'm sorry, Captain. I never met a god before.

Chekov be sassy to gods

I can’t let this haircut go, as it got me thinking: Is there a hairdresser on the Enterprise?

That’s a thing to explore

What gossip that person might hear sign me up

So, the guy really is the God Apollo huh

Costume note 1: That toga Apollo wears is SO SMALL like - “SIR nice to meet you but you’re REVEALING THINGS please sit with more modesty OR - NO NOT LIKE THAT”

Costume note 1, addition: Nice to see the ratio of revealing costumes of men & women wearing sexy revealing clothing in this episode is very equal

Apollo really has a worshipping kink huh

But as a Greek god you probably have that

Also where ARE the other gods? Like he just casually says they are all gone... “with the wind” but... why? Did they suffer from worship withdrawal like he does now?

Also: I really LOVE the concept they introduced that the Ancient Greek gods were just a bunch of space travellers visiting Earth who decided to chill there for a while and be all powerful and worshipped. But as Kirk says in the end they were a huge factor for mankind to move to the Golden Age, which is a cool thought.

Seriously what a fun premise? I would watch that as a series. Hera, Artemis, Zeus, Apollo etc. all chilling on their ship and having fights and romances and space adventures on strange planets. I imagine them being a really chaotic and high-maintenance bunch though

Thinking about it, Apollo said he was a demi-god with a human mother (if I understood that correctly) so basically he was born on Earth and never saw (what I assumed is) their home planet until he was an adult and they returned (why did they return?)? But the Enterprise crew defeats him by finding out his “god powers” are actually originating from the temple structure on the planet, so does that work long distance then?? Like they could access their home planet powers from far away...? And not the powers themselves are passed down by genes but rather the access to it? Or is it that they need worship to thrive (like that’s why it worked on Earth and they just need a temple?) Questions over questions. Love the concept overall.

Kirk, Scotty and Chekov talking about energy patterns and science and how to defeat Apollo (also Chekov you’re such a smart boy! and he says he is only 22 in this episode awwW and the others are looking at him like - wow a child is with us) and Bones just randomly... grabs a bowl of fruit, holds it a bit and puts it aside - as I saw no note for that in the script I think it was improvised by Kelley... but why? Like was somebody from the staff whispering last minute “oh no that bowl is ruining the shot take it away subtly if you can”? It really startled me but it’s kinda funny.

Chekovs hair is even more FLUFFY and voluminous in this scene like did they bring the Enterprise’s hairdresser with them? (It’s cute)

CHEKOV: Perhaps if I assisted. KIRK: How old are you? CHEKOV: Twenty two, sir. KIRK: Then I'd better handle it.

Also I like protective Scotty in this episode. I think it is one of the first times he really gets some character development and proper screen time

Kirk being choked by Apollo is on the thin line of really intense acting and passing into Shatners school of overacting but - it works so I am giving a thumbs up for very INTENSE acting

I feel somebody shouted at him “MORE INTENSE” “MORE MOANING” “INTENSITYYY” “BE MORE CHOKED”

Lieutenant Carolyn is kind of a weak character and is pretty much the embodiment of a 60s ideal of a woman but HELL she is beautiful

Costume Note 3: I actually like the cut of her costume, it is an imaginative take on the toga and also sexy - I was surprised they aired it like that tbh - like from one side it looks like she is topless really

Costume Note 3 addition: but then HOW did they fix it? Like she’s not wearing any kind of bra and the fabric is not attached to anything so I guess they glued it to her skin in a lot of places huh - also there is a scene with a storm and a strong wind where I feel the way she tries to protect and cover herself is not just acting but really an attempt by the actress to catch her costume from flying away and not trusting the glue the costume people used

I don’t want to imagine how many wardrobe malfunctions she had with that costume and how many times she stood there topless in front of everyone so... idk

I guess same goes for Apollos costume lol so fair

On a more positive note on the portrayal of women is Uhura’s role here. Her in that mechanics uniform building a bypass circuit in that crammed space under her console (she still has her full hairdo which gets all squished oh NO and the hairdresser is down on the planet fixing Chekovs mushroom!) - you go girl

UHURA: Mister Spock, I haven't done anything like this in years. If it isn't done just right, I could blow the entire communications system. It's very delicate work, sir.

SPOCK: I can think no one better equipped to handle it, Miss Uhura. Please proceed.

Thumbs up for the supporting Spock.

Also I love every time Spock takes over the Bridge. It’s so cool.

So that’s all! Overall a campy episode at first look but I was pleasantly surprised by the concept of the Greek Gods being space travellers etc. Thumbs up for that giant hand too (pun intended). I like to imagine that like with episodes that play in a middle-age setting they just had a set from another movie lying around and thought - how can we make this a strange planet - but that’s really part of the charme of it for me.

This was a long text huh.

BONUS QUOTE (or rather BONES QUOTE?) - as it was my favorite:

MCCOY: To coin a phrase, fascinating. 

[soulvomit]

I wish people would grasp that if something is no longer okay, it's often because of changing context.

I feel like my own generation (I'm Core Gen X) has been one of the ones having the hardest time with appropriation discourse and *especially* those of us who had hippie or activist parents. I have trouble discussing this topic with people in my own age group or older sometimes. It's an area where even 3 years difference in age makes a major difference in how one deals with this issue.

The thing is, the 70s-90s were a whole different cultural context when it came to appropriation. It's not that it was "okay then but not okay now," it's that it had a very different context and very different players involved.

Part of it is that the late 60s and early 70s were themselves a pushback on certain white cultural norms and a white person wearing a dashiki, signalled things that the same action does not signal now. (It possibly signaled that you were an activist and possibly even a Communist. Which were not "cool" things to be prior to the 60s.)

If you're older then you remember a different world. In cities, there was more diversity than there is now, and more actual adjacence between a lot of cultures than there is now. It *is* different when the cultural stuff you wear came from actual shops and services of that culture and when you *do* actually have people of that culture as your friends and neighbors. Etiquette applies but under genuine conditions of adjacence, you're more likely to know that etiquette than someone in a monoculture suburb or gentrified city will, whose exposure to that culture's "stuff" primarily comes from other white hipsters. Most of us know at this point that there is a difference between two-way, mutual cultural diffusion and appropriation, but a whole generation has now grown up in increasingly homogeneous communities that were not the rule for urban kids of the 70s.

Appropriation also did not have the degree of coolness or acceptability prior to the 90s, that it does now. There was still a mainstream cultural standard that excluded non-white-marked stuff for *everyone.*

And what a lot of people have been pointing out is that the range of acceptable expression only got wider for middle class white people, particularly as subcultural styles became an increasingly accepted middle class norm. (The actually affluent have always done whatever they wanted anyway. Now their lifestyles have a LOT more visibility.)

The thing with this though is that cultural exchange via adjacence - i.e., actual two-way cultural diffusion - is far less true for a lot of people than it was in the 80s and now we have whole industries that profit off of selling other cultures' imagery to middle class white Americans. It simply would not have been profitable the same way in the 70s-90s.

If I wanted a culturally marked hairstyle in the 90s, I would probably have had to have gone to a hairdresser from that background. And now that's the least likely place people would assume I would have gotten that style.

I feel like I have to work a lot harder to be in multicultural social environments than I did in the 80s, when I went to public schools and grew up with neighbors of some 10 different nationalities.

For that matter, a lot of the origin of popular types of music and dance, is rooted in cultural adjacence, though appropriative dynamics entered as those forms began to be popular with middle class white kids and thus became profitable to white executives.

Part of the changing mores around appropriation, I suspect, was that in the 60s, appropriation on the part of middle class white people was actually really deeply offensive to other middle class white people, and offending mainstream white people actually had a significant social cost. You saw allies sometimes wear stuff associated with other cultures but it definitely meant "fuck the man." And of course the affluent have always shown off their travel souvenirs for social capital. (Which is one of the forms of appropriation being recognized and pushed back on.)

But now if you have those things you probably bought them from "the man."

I'm not excusing anything, just pointing out that meanings of things change and entire social contexts can change.

I wish more people got that. Especially my age group. It's possible for something to be okay now that wasn't okay before, and it's possible for something to not be okay that was before. Meaning changes, and context changes.

[idasessions]

Famous Muses & Groupies in Rock Music Pt. 47

GROUPIE: Reine Stewart

Bear with me because this is going to be one of those bios where I’m basing a lot of the info and details on a handful of online threads and comments since there’s never been a legitimate report on Reine; plus the fansite with the most info is now a dead URL. Like Audrey Hamilton and Queenie Glam, she’s been completely MIA since the ‘70s and apparently has no interest in letting anyone know what she’s been up to via social media. Supposedly, Reine—pronounced like ‘Ren’ and born in 1948—was part of the first generation of rock music groupies in the mid-1960s LA area (particularly Laurel Canyon in Reine’s case); and spent nearly all her free time with bands and other groupies when she was 16-20. She allegedly has a twin sister named Tracy and was close friends with fellow groupies Christine Hinton and Debbie Donovan. The bands Reine spent the most time with were the Byrds, the Monkees and Buffalo Springfield. Like 99% of groupies, Reine was sexually adventurous and partied a lot.

You know that beautifully haunting track ‘Triad’ from Jefferson Airplane’s album ���Crown of Creation’ (1968)? Originally it was written and demo’d by David Crobsy when he was in the Byrds, but bandmates Chris Hillman and Roger McGuinn were like ‘bro, we’re not performing a song about your freaky sex life,’ so then JA ended up getting it (along with Grace Slick changing the pronouns, lol), and Dave was kicked out soon after. ANYWAYS, the lyrics and title of the song are believed to be directly inspired by a threesome Dave had with Christine (his girlfriend at the time) and Reine in 1966. Kinky. A little less than a year earlier in 1965, Reine was also a sometime groupie of Byrds bassist Chris Hillman and at one point she had a thing with Springfield bassist Bruce Palmer too. In 1968, Reine went from Byrd groupie to future Monkee wife when she met and quickly began dating Peter Tork (she was all about that bass apparently). Peter already had a rep for being a sexually liberated hippie like Reine, and he was also buddies with a lot of the guys in the Byrds and Springfield, so their mutual interests and friendships were really convenient. In a Rolling Stone interview from 2007, Peter says that Reine was also briefly with Hollywood actor Peter Fonda before they started living together.

Before the two met, Peter had become known as the bachelor in the Monkees because he hadn’t been seriously dating anyone since breaking up with Leah Kunkel in summer 1967. Supposedly Reine was the one who made him interested in being committed (hmm, really though?). Early in their courtship, Reine was at the filming of the Monkees’ movie Head (1968) and tagged along on their Australia/Japan tour in October ’68. She can also be seen playing drums during a scene in the band’s lame TV special 33 1/3 Revolutions per Monkee (1969). In Dave Crosby’s 2005 memoir Long Time Gone, he mentions that when the couple would throw house parties, Reine was in charge of moderating the weed and ecstasy.

After Peter quit the Monkees, he and Reine formed a new band in 1969 called Release, with Peter on guitar and lead vocals, and Reine on drums. There’s a quote from singer-songwriter Jackson Browne (couldn’t find a source for it though) where he says that he once went to one of Peter’s infamous parties and saw Reine playing drums naked. He also alleges that she wasn’t actually that good of a drummer and was only part of the band because she was hot (no surprise, lbr). When the ‘60s ended, Peter’s and Reine’s relationship went from far out to straight up terrible. Release originally demo’d with Atlantic Records, but never got signed to the label for a record deal, and would eventually only play gigs locally (and even then sparingly). By 1970, they disbanded and the couple’s daughter, Hallie Luia (Hallie…Luia…halle…lujah… 😒 *slow clap*) was born on January 25th that same year. At this point, they were living at Crosby’s place, which is actually where Hallie was born. Then Reine was basically a single mother for four months in 1972 when Peter spent time in jail for holding a small bag of hash in his pocket in Oklahoma after a trip through Mexico. Then for some reason Peter and Reine thought it would be a good idea to finally get married in October ‘72, but only to get divorced and separate two years later in 1974. Sometime during all this, they also made the switch from LA to northern California. When Reine requested a divorce, she cited her reasoning being infidelity, that Peter couldn’t keep himself employed, and he was wasted all the time (this was 100% the lowest period of his life, and I hate reading about it, tbh :( ). Reine was granted full custody of Hallie, and in 1975 they moved back in with Croz and she spent a couple of years as a CSN(Y) groupie. And…that’s the last anyone’s heard from Reine publicly. Peter regained custody in 1976, not long before landing a position as a high school teacher in Beverly Hills. Fortunately, the father and daughter successfully formed a good relationship with each other by the time Hallie was a teenager and he was sober.