#HOW YOU ANTI BLACK AND USING OUR SHIT?

[texasbama]

Non black people using AAVE will always make my eye twitch. STFU you sound stupid as hell.

[princessefemmelesbian]

Transandrophobia truthers are so damn racist and white oh my fucking god y'all actually piss me the fuck off every time you tokenize Black and brown men for your stupid as fuck "mra but make it trans-inclusive" ideology created by a creepy guy with a corrective rape fetish(something I'll never let up on for as long as I live, btw). If I ever see another one of y'all say "Black and brown men face discrimination because they're seen as overly masculine and that's why masculinity in men is oppressed in this society" I will literally kill myself. Stop using Black and brown men as brownie points for your bullshit arguments about misandry being real when you don't have the slightest idea how racialized oppression works. White boys are so annoying and dumb istfg.

@punkeropercyjackson @punknicodiangelo @pinkpinkstarlet

[tariah23]

It’s always crazy to see black celebs spew this same rhetoric because it’s such a privileged take… like, they’ve been famous for so long and have gotten their money up, moved out of the projects or whatever tf, that they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be genuinely feel. It’s impossible for them to connect anymore. As far as the qrt, oh wow ☠️.

[hussyknee]

I do, in fact, hold the Jewish community collectively responsible for Zionists.

Individually? Of course not. Anti Zionist Jews exist as individuals. Many individuals are shut out of their own religious community, especially those of colour.

But as a community where Zionism is so socially and institutionally entrenched that the minority of dissenters are disowned and ostracized?

The global community of which only a handful of organisations openly advocate for Palestine, and even most of those paternalistic and co-opting Palestnian voices with liberal Zionist sympathies?

The western majority that institutionally benefits from white colonization and imperialism and silences its non-Jewish Black and brown critics?

The same majority that will never own their privilege or culpability or complicity in the colonial project before and after the Holocaust?

That helped the West exceptionalize it to cover up their exponentially larger and more enduring colonial crimes?

That distanced themselves from their white colonial privilege at the expense of BIPOC by insisting theirs was not a religious marginalization but a racial one, and continues to punish us for not treating them as racially oppressed?

Whose very demand to be automatically exonerated from the Palestinian genocide is reflective of their white and Western privilege?

That successfully broke the ties Jews of colour have to their own racial communities through Israeli ethnic cleansing and Zionist propaganda?

That uses JoC as shields, tokens and weapons against all the above charges?

The JoC that have purchased the privileges of Zionism and enfranchised themselves by betraying their own races?

The community that has used the charge of antisemitism to police Black and brown folks for decades, making it a knife against our necks?

I absolutely, 100% blame the global Jewish community.

The Global South will not forget. We will not forgive. All people with white skinned European descent are our oppressors. All people nourished on the teat of the imperial core are the foot soldiers of white supremacy, no matter what their race. We owe you no exoneration.

[southislandwren]

So basically I’ve been spreading the phrase “silly quirky” around my department kind of to show that we all have little quirks and it’s okay to be different, and people have adopted it and generally use it in good faith, but I have a theory (with good evidence) that the freshman just genuinely does not like autistic people, and it’s making me really bummed out since she’s one of my close friends :(

[historicity-was-already-taken]

I hate what the Israeli government is doing but I'm scared of contributing to the rise in anti-semitism in the US. I'm not Jewish and not super keyed in to anti-semitism. Obviously, anyone talking shit about the Jewish people is someone I should fight, but there are things I should watch out for even when they say "Israel," right? What kind of rhetoric should I be on the lookout for?

What makes this hard, is that there is no collective Jewish take on this. There are some Jews who would tell you that any criticism of Israel is inherently anti-Semitic. There are other Jews who would tell you that Jewish support for the modern state is antithetical to the values at the core of our ethics and faith.

Both of those types of Jewish thinkers follow this blog, as do Jews holding views everywhere in between.

So what I'm going to tell you isn't The Jewish Stance on this, but the stance I've developed as a Modern Jewish historian who also happens to be a Jewish person with leftist politics.

Here is a list of narratives and rhetorical patterns to watch out for:

-individuals or spaces which view jews as inherently unworthy of trust, and require them to consistently prove that they are a "Good Jew"

-rhetoric which continuously singles out Israeli human and civil rights abuses, while failing to hold other states committing equal or much larger scale abuses to the same standards

-speech which implies that the Jews can fit neatly into the role of "white colonizer"

-visual languages which super-impose Nazi imagery over Jewish symbols

-Blood Libel rhetoric, which accuses Israel of using the blood or murdered Palestinian babies for its bread, or harvesting Palestinian organs for the black market. This type of rhetoric has been circulating the western world for literal centuries, and it always ends with Jews being expelled and/or burnt at the stake.

And this is kind of where the classic "I can't define it but I know it when I see it" porn definition comes in. Sometimes someone screaming about "The Zionists" is someone deeply disturbed by, say, the frankly fascistic behavior of Israelis in West Bank Settlements. Sometimes, that person is furious that Jews are asking them to critically examine the role of any or some of the above elements in their speech regarding Israel and Israelis.

Some Jews will weaponize a lot of our traumatic past to silence other Jews, and say that by writing this I am no better than the Jewish Police who rounded up their people for the Treblinka transports. Other Jews will say that by writing any of this, I'm silencing necessary speech regarding the war crimes in Gaza and that I'm complicit in the ongoing ethnic cleansing of Palestinian civilians as a result.

But this is my basic, 101 level response, and it's not going to change.

I really, truly, appreciate your how deeply you care about grasping these issues. If you have any follow-up questions I'd be happy to answer them under similar understandings of username exclusion.

[liquidstar]

look this site really is awful for ppl with OCD so i just wanna reassure anyone that you are not Tainted Forever for consuming a piece of media with questionable content. the fact that youre able to recognize it speaks to your critical thinking skills, which is good, certain depictions should be critiqued. but you dont need to ruminate on it to the point where you begin to feel guilty for simply witnessing gross or creepy writing choices. you dont have to vindicate yourself to the fictional tumblr discourser inside your head, saying that youre now a bad person bc you watched the wrong anime. your actual response to it still matters of course, but thats that and this is this. just seeing it is neutral, you didnt commit a thought crime. its literally fine.

IF YOU ARE USING THIS POST TO ONLY FURTHER YOUR STUPID PEDANTIC BLACK-AND-WHITE DISCOURSE TO GET A "GOCHA" OVER THE OTHER SIDE YOU ARE THE PROBLEM. DON'T USE OUR DISORDER TO VINDICATE YOUR BEHAVIOR. THOUGHT CRIMES ARENT REAL BUT ACTIONS STILL MATTER. PEOPLE WITH OCD ARE CAPABLE OF THINKING CRITICALLY ABOUT OUR ACTIONS AND RESPONSES, EVEN WITH INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS AND RUMINATIONS. TREATING US AS IF WE CANNOT, ONLY TO FORCE US TO USE YOUR STRINGENT UNNUANCED DISCOURSE OPINIONS ABOUT "PURITY CULTURE" (TRIGGERING TO THOSE WITH OCD) AS THE ONLY REASONABLE GUIDE DOES MORE TO EXACERBATE OUR OBSESSIONS THAN HELP US. YOU ARE THE ISSUE AS WELL. YOU ARE ALSO THE TUMBLR DISCOURSER INSIDE OUR HEADS. DO NOT USE US FOR YOUR DISCOURSE. WE ARE PEOPLE, NOT HYPOTHETICALS TO USE TO EXPLAIN IF YOUR FROZEN INCEST FANFICTION IS OKAY OR NOT. TREATING US AS IF WE CANNOT AUTONOMOUSLY HAVE OUR OWN OPINIONS ON WHEN MEDIA IS TANGIBLY HARMFUL IS ABLEIST. FORCING US TO ABIDE BY YOUR IN-GROUP'S SET OF UNEQUIVOCAL MORALS IS ABLEIST. ACTING AS THOUGH THE ONLY SOLUTION FOR US IS MINDLESS MEDIA CONSUMPTION IN WHICH "EVERY DEPICTION OF XYZ, NO MATTER HOW POORLY DONE OR EXPLOITATIVE, IS ALWAYS OKAY AND IF YOU DISAGREE YOURE ACTUALLY AN EVIL 'ANTI'" IS ABLEIST. THOSE ARE THE SAME BLACK-AND-WHITE MORALS THAT SEND US INTO OBSESSIVE SPIKES, BUT FLIPPED. A SET OF MORALS IN WHICH QUESTIONING THE IMPACT OF A PIECE OF WORK MAKES YOU AN "EVIL CONSERVATIVE PURITAN "ANTI"" DOES NOT HELP MORAL OCD.

YOU ARE THE DAMN TUMBLR DISCOUERSERS MAKING THIS SHIT WORSE FOR US! YOURE THE EXACT SAME BUT WITH FLIPPED BUZZWORDS! YOU'RE MISSING THE WHOLE DAMN POINT!

[gryficowa]

You know what's fucked up? The law assumes that only Jews were the victims of fascism, which is why we now have the absurdity that if you are a fascist but also a Jew (Zionism in short), you go unpunished because you are a Jew, and those who are against you are anti-Semites

So yes, the anti-fascist law turns out to be a perfect loophole for fascists as long as they are Jews (And in Germany it's so absurd that Jews were beaten and attacked by the police for anti-Semitism, so yes, such a loophole in the law was used for this shit)

The law assumed that other victims of fascism do not exist, so they do not have to be as protected as Jews (And before anyone gets outraged, the point is that every discriminated group should be treated under the law in the same way as Jews, i.e. Queerphobia, racism , Islamophobia etc… were treated as seriously as anti-Semitism, and not treated as a "Joke") and this shows how defective our law is, unfortunately, the status quo will probably also be preserved, i.e. they will add another group and ignore the rest, and then the same loop will occur (It is a gloomy thought, but since they erase other victims of the Nazis such as Poles, LGBT+ people, Roma and people with disabilities, because they consider them less important than Jews in the fight against discrimination, then I'm sorry, but it sucks and this anti-fascist policy works shit)

So yes, the anti-fascist law has so many loopholes that it hurts, it just hurts on many levels, and the absurdity that Jews are beaten for anti-Semitism is proof of this, simply assuming that fascism is only swastikas and hating Jews is harmful on many levels, no, fascism is behavior, it is discrimination, dehumanization etc… The victims are not only Jews, and even then they were not the only ones

Zionism has exploited loopholes in the law to silence its opponents, and it's so disgusting it's nauseating

If the fight against fascism doesn't work because the fascist is a Jew, then you know that this anti-fascist policy is so full of loopholes that it doesn't care about fighting fascism, and it can just be exploited by fascists and people shoot themselves in the foot in this law, yes, we should fight fascism, but we should fucking teach what fascism is and how it works, not teach that only Jews are its victims, damn it

Because we have made Jews victims of anti-fascist law because they are anti-Zionists

If this is how the fight against fascism works, you know something has gone fucking wrong

Today, fascists choose easier targets (Because Jews are better protected by law, because attention, anti-Semitism is taken seriously, not as a "Joke" and that's the fucking difference) like LGBT+ people, immigrants, Muslims, black people, etc… because the law is full of loopholes and society continues to ignore the fact that this discrimination is a serious problem

It just sucks, you can be from a group that was a victim of the Nazis (I'm from Poland, specifically Kashubian, I'm aroace and I'm a person with ASD), and you will still be fascist in the eyes of the law because you are anti-Zionist, the law doesn't care about you because you are not a Jew who wants the genocide of the Palestinians and it is sick, it is simply sick

It's simply such a huge loophole in the law against fascism that now it is showing before our eyes how badly it was made and how people concluded that the victims of the Nazis were only Jews, so now that there is anti-fascist law, it only cares about Jews and so , about those who are Zionists, because they treat anti-Zionist Jews like shit (Germany, I remind you)

It's just sick, the whole law is so flawed and against the victims of fascism, even if they are not Zionist Jews, that it's insane

We would have to destroy the law and build it anew, but the question is whether this would not cause problems for future generations, because we would have to do it damn well and analyze everything, and there would probably be a fucking risk that fascism will find another loophole to its own advantage anyway

The very fact that this loophole was ignored for so many years is also terrifying, because what the Zionists did to the Palestinians from the very beginning is an indication that the law even then closed its loopholes and we are only seeing them now because we have greater access to information

The law also showed that this applies to white Jews, because Arab Jews are not taken as seriously, so don't expect anyone to care about anti-Semitism when you are not a European Jew, because you are an Arab and your being a Jew means nothing, and the law doesn't care about Arabs, so you're fucked

So yes, the loopholes in the law are most visible today and well, the very fact that they were ignored for many years is a long-term problem, and the Zionists have been taking advantage of this loophole for years to their own advantage

[the-last-hipopotamovolador]

Okey a lot of fucking disgusting stuff are happening all around the world. The genocide of palestinians, the new anti queer law in russia, the congo situation and god knows how many other fucking disgusting inhumane shit is happening in so many places right now.

LISTEN i know that even for people like me who arent victims of any of these situations everything can be so overwhelming right now, and that we may feel hopless and we just dont wanna do anything anymore because everything seems pointless.

BUT FOR THE LOVE OF WHATEVER YOU BELIVE DO NOT BACK THE FUCK DOWN!

Like me, so many other people of the world (even if we belong to a "minority" and for that suffer daily discrimination) we are lucky enought to be ALLOWED to exist because for fucking coincidence we live in places where our goverments or/and the international powers allow us to just fucking be alive.

But there are so many people who the only thing tthey did was being born and for that the goverments decide that they should not exist.

If you were born in palestina to Israel and most of the world you arent fucking allowed to be alive.

If you are queer and were born in russia your fucking goverment says that you are not allowed to be alive.

If you are black in congo you are not allowed to be alive.

If you are native, for most of the goverments in the america continent you are not allowed to be alive.

And if you are a person with vulva/ you are a woman you are not allowed to be alive in most of the fucking world.

And so, so, so many more examples could be add because in this fucking sick world just being ALLOWED to be alive is a privilege.

So PLEASE I BEG YOU, IF YOU ARE IN A POSITION WERE YOUR MERE EXISTENCE IS ALLOWED (even for the dislike of some people) PLEASE, EVEN IF IT HURTS JUST RAGE, SPEAK THE FUCK UP! DONT BE QUIET!

If there are ambassadors of Israel in your country or/and from any other country that prohibits the existence of people, go and RAGE! GO AND DEMAND A CHANGE!.

If YOUR COUNTRY is in ANY way supporting the fact that some groups have the power to decide whether or not some people should be allowed to exist GO AND SCREAM AND SHOUT AND FUKING RAGE.

We have the previlege of being allowed to exist, is our human obligation to speak and shout for those who doesnt have that privilege and arent heared.

[sissa-arrows]

So the most listened to (internationally) French artist happens to be a Black woman, her artist name is Aya Nakamura. She is the only woman in France in the top 20 of the most listened to artists. She was born in Mali (Bamako) came in France as a young child with her family and she now has the French citizenship.

She might be the one singing (a song from Edith Piaf) during the Olympics opening ceremony in France.

Again she is the most famous French artists right now internationally.

White people are putting signs saying “No way for Aya, this is Paris not the market of Bamako”. That’s how racist France is.

But wanna know the icing on the cake? The reaction of some politicians on the left. Sandrine Rousseau defending Aya by saying that it would give the image of a “tolerant and open” France. This is all about “image” they don’t want to stop being racists pieces of shit they want to be able to do it while still looking good and anti racists.

You say “this is Paris not Bamako” meanwhile when Black and Arabs undocumented workers went on strike the construction site of the Olympics had to fucking slow down and stop in some sites because there was enough undocumented workers on those construction sites that their absence meant not being able to continue.

You say “this is Paris not Bamako” meanwhile the only reason your health system hasn’t completely collapsed is because 1 doctor out of 4 is born abroad. Some of your hospitals would close without foreign doctors (Algerians represent almost 25% of the foreign doctors in France.

So you know what? This is Bamako. This is Algiers. This is Dakar. Without us you wouldn’t be a rich country. If you didn’t want us here you shouldn’t have colonized our people and shouldn’t keep looting our countries while financing corrupted governments, organizing assassinations of rulers who want to decolonize Africa and organizing uprising against them.

(P.S: Le premier qui vient défendre Sandrine Rousseau je le bloque ici on soutient la gauche révolutionnaire et porteuse de valises pas la gauche avec des relents de paternalisme colonial qui bégaie dès qu’il faut prendre position correctement contre le racisme)

[sapphicsvibes]

my last post was also about the discussions of transmisogyny centering cis female athletes who are women of color. there is a wider conversation being had about transmisogyny in athletics, and that is that, trans women aren't even allowed to compete. before we start discussing how transmisogyny impacts not trans fems, we need to actually center the discussion around the heavily, transmisogynstic shit that is already happening.

and when we talk about how cis woc athletes being overly masculinized and decide to call it transmisogyny instead of what it actually is, racism, it sets us back. there is this understood idea that people can be indirectly impacted by transmisogyny, but unless the subjects of those conversations are transfeminine people, then the focus shouldn't be transmisogyny.

it should be racism. it should be the fact that the white, western gender binary and idea of femininty/womanhood is so fucked up that cis girls of color from a young age are viewed as more masculine, dangerous and larger than white women. we should be focusing on the complexities of misogynoir that black girls go through from childhood to adult hood where we are both masculinized and also hypersexualized and exposed to harmful race science that gets us preyed upon by older men. we should focus on how these conversations of masculinizing women of color comes to play in how white women and white afabs (yes, i know i said i dont like using afabs but i am starting ot use it when discussing the lived experience of white afab people and how that negatively impacts people of color in queer spaces) can utilize their privilege, tears, femininity, etc., to turn society against cis girls of color and how we are automatically seen as a threat to them

we need to talk about racialized misogyny when dicussing imane khelif, and how white women like jk rowling, who has a history of transmigoyny yes, but also anti-arab/MENA racism and islamaphobia, and is prominent in alt right groups, is using her platform to attack a possible muslim, MENA woman. and that's a big thing that hardly anyone talks about - Rowling is heavily islamphobia and anti-arab. when you se guys see her attacking a MENA woman, and decide to focus solely on transmisogyny, you are quite literally erasing a huge chunk of her bigotry.

yes, indirect transmisogyny comes to play, but when you are talking about racialized misogyny, you NEED to make sure that is the main focus - racism and misogyny, because if you don't you make it hard if not impossible for us to have any type of productive conversation. you guys being too afraid to call out racism and misogyny makes it seem like you are shielding white women/afabs and white society from the pain they have put women of color through for decades.

the same goes for misogynoir??? like when we are talking about misogynoir and them completely ignore it and lump it under transmisogyny, who does that help? not only does the black community have an issue with transmisogyny in general, but it also erases a term that we've come up with to help better discuss our oppression.

also, this isn't to say that trans woc don't face racialized misogyny and misogynoir (black transfems!) because they do. but it should be understood that while THEY face these things, transmisogyny is something that should also center them. and while we, as non trans fem women do face racialized misogyny/misogynoir - yeah, sometimes we can draw comparisons between transmisogyny, but we shouldn't be the ones taking the lead or taking platforms.

and last but not least, the way you guys who are claiming what is happening to cis female athletes is transmisogynistic. Do you know how many trans people, who aren't trans fem, that i've seen saying

"see, this is why we need to talk about transmisogyny affecting non transfems! xyz athlete was actually born a woman, she's not a man, she is afab! she has a vagina!" do you realize how that language is terfy, do you realize how you guys will try to hijack convos of transmisogyny while also reinforcing transmisogynistic requirements of what makes a woman a woman?

[maisycoded]

I won’t lie, I’m not shocked he even one just because America always has the need to support the “ anti hero” or self proclaimed “ underdog” and so on. But what I will say is I never want to hear anyone talk about banding together or doing the right thing because ( with the exception of people who did take it seriously) most of everyone where posting their ballots writing joke shit on them, despite project 2025 being released to the public people did not see how much of a treat it is to not just black, LGBTQ+ and immigration rights, healthcare, but the rights of human beings at large

So with that said, I don’t want to hear anyone between now and the next four years talk about how books are getting censored or banned, free speech is dead, women’s rights are gone, people can’t get married or live their gay/queer dreams or story, how “ well I mean it won’t be that bad” because it will, and honestly the fact that no one understands this is going to be our generations reagan years is beyond me at this point

And with that said, I don’t want to hear shit also from anyone if people start becoming cynical, disinfectant or disenfranchised. The people are now un motivated, slackers, and the way pervious generations were seen from the 80’s-90’s. Because not only trump being president is bad enough now republicans have the house again and we all know what hell that will bring

I never want to hear about unity or coming together when we didn’t do that, the people who are a minority and still voted for him especially people of color, hispanics and so on even though our people have been though it for years we still looked at a convicted felon and facist and said “ well Kamala was against weed in the 90’s, even though she changed we hate her so fuck her” or “ well trump is friends with ( insert poc celebrities here)” is so fucking beyond me

So with that said, fuck this election, fuck the next four years, fuck everyone who failed at basic common sense and most of all fuck everyone who did the “ they are both bad imma not vote” shit because it’s not about electing a role model, all presidents are bad people, but that does not mean you elect a proven racist, rapist and vile human being over a flawed woman who’s not those things and wouldn’t put us thought the shit we will deal with now

If you voted for him, fuck you

If you where against Kamala for hypocritical standards, fuck you

If you are older and complain that todays youth is out of control and doesn’t care anymore and is angst ridden and is cynical and wants nothing to do with anything, fuck you

And if anyone shames people with moderate or severe mental illness and they can’t get help now moving forward, people have breakdowns and lose their shit, fuck you

We failed at doing our one job, and that is looking out for each other and making this bat shit country a safe place for us and tomorrow’s youth

[aeolianblues]

‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014!

It’s not tumblr-core and it’s not Lana Del Ray or 2013 AM, it’s not #girl interrupted, it’s not Ethel Cain (she literally is an artist of our time, what are you on about.)

It was 2001 with the Strokes on the cover of the NME every 2 weeks, it was cabaret night and English poetry with the Libertines in 2002, it’s those red and blue military jackets, it was the fucking grease in Julian Casablancas’ hair, it’s ’cocaine was the banker’s drug’ quoth Alex Kapranos, it was Don't Go Back To Dalston and the heroin, it was red and black horizontal striped tops and tight black shirts as evening wear, it was Russell Lissak’s mop top and a full page interview with London hairdressers in the NME in 2005, it was Jack and Meg’s saturated red and white dresses, it was cut-and-paste glitter on the cover of Santigold’s first album, it was the sleaze and the sex of CSS’s music, it was the anti-Bush and anti-war stances of the bands at the time, it was America by Razorlight, it was Popworld on telly and Simon Amstel being a little shit to musicians, it was Karen O defying death on stage nightly, it was throwing up in shitty nightclubs on god knows what drugs, it was the fucking danger knowing this could all collapse any second—and rightly, it should. It was the godawful egos at DFA, it was knowing that while you were lucky to be seeing these bands live, you’d fucking hate them if you had to spend even a minute in their individual company. It was Amy Winehouse telling the world to get the fuck out of her business, it was Leslie Feist and Peaches sharing a dilapidated flat above a sex shop in Toronto.

It was horrible camera flash and red-eye editing softwares and putting your feet by the warm, spinning fans of your computer while it whirred away and downloaded your albums in *checks* 46 more minutes. It was horrible, it was dirty, it was gritty, we all hated it and thought the 90s were the last time music was good and that nothing good had happened since 1997. It was garishly bright clothes we were all embarrassed of by 2011, it was multiple layers and leggings and asking your mum to cut the itchy tag on the back of your low rise jeans only for her to snip your back. It was bell bottoms at the start of the decade. It being thankful that by 2017, no one would dream of wearing low rises anymore, please please, please let them never come back.

It was faux nostalgic of the past itself. It was ‘please make sure baby you’ve got some colours in there’ in your clothes. It was moral panic over emos. It was wanting to escape into a better past that you could see was visibly impoverished in the present. It was watching your favourite programmes become less and less relevant on air. It was watching MTV decisively die a horrible death. It was watching important venues and nightclubs get bulldozed. It was watching the last regular broadcast of Top Of The Pops in 2006. It was seeing how the 2009 financial crisis most definitely put a stop to independent music in the western world for a decade, it was watching the rise of bedroom DIY and electronic music. It was seeing the phrase ‘SoundCloud rapper’ being coined. It was the rise of Disney pop. It was counter-culture Justin Bieber hatred. It was the MS paint meme of those tumblr girls thoroughly unimpressed by the guy.

It was not using the words ‘indie sleaze’ at all, in fact. That’s a retconned word. It was garage rock revival. It was ‘post-grunge’. We didn’t care what it was called, we hated it all the same. It was a lead into a decade of despair and nihilism, it was the last hurrah for the music industry before it splintered into a thousand little online ecosystems, it was the last time we had physical community and any shared pop cultural moments. It was Live8 2005. It was the same as it is now, and it was a time that’ll never happen again, for better and for worse.

But one thing is for sure: it was decisively dead by 2014. Santi and Karen O’s 2012 collab was its last hurrah and it was dead by Comedown Machine by the Strokes (2013). It has nothing to do with 2014.

[xkaidaxxxx]

Nozel Silva x Y/n Vermillion

Mentions: Confession, 1st kiss, family, overall fluff!!!

Reblogs are appreciated <3 (no proof read. Random short story!)

“You’re a piece of shit Nozel. You and your stupid sister and brother. How could you treat Noelle like that?” You said. “ She’s nothing but a failure. She’s born defective.” Nozel replied. You managed to slap him even though you’re short. He looked at you with anger. Before he could say anything hurtful to you, Fuegoleon showed up with 2 newcomers and Yami. “ Hey Y/n this is Yuno. He’s part of the Golden Dawn and that’s Asta. He’s a black bull. It's your job to show them around.” Your older brother ordered. “ Yes, big brother. Yuno, Asta. I’m y/n Vermillion. It’s really nice meeting you.” You greeted as you began to walk with them. Once you reached the end of the hall and turned, Fuegoleon looked pissed. 

“Don’t you ever dare cross the fucking line with my baby sister. Have your family issues in your house, not mine.” He said. “ She slapped me because of my family issues.”Nozel replied. His other siblings are backing him up. “ Well if she did it, it must be for a very good reason. Why are you even here?” Fuegleon asked. Yami stood there loving the drama. “The same reason why Yami is here.” Nozel replied. “Ah so you heard about Asta’s grimoire.” Yami said. “He’s a commoner. He has Devil Anti Magic.” Nozel said. “So?” Yami said, defending his new weird comrade. “He’ll end up bringing  trouble to the clover kingdom.” Nozel replied. “ I don’t even know why I brought you here, Yami. Both of you can leave now. You know where the door is.” Fuegoleon said and left. 

Weeks have gone by and Leo smacked your head. “You have a thing for Nozel.''Leo said. “N-No I don’t. Shut up.” you replied, smacking him back. “You might be older than me, but I totally pay attention to your life, like you do mine. You like him, you just hate the part where he’s an asshole to his little sister.” he responded. He was right. “ Well it’s not going to happen. He’s 7 years older than me and his siblings hate me so..” you said and you got another smack to the head. “ Since when the heck do you care about what others think? You don’t need to get his siblings approval. Ask him out.” Leo said with a smile afterwards. “ You make that sound so easy.” you replied.

The following week Nozel showed up at your home. Leo was acting weird for a while. “Leo thanks for the outfit. I look like a total badass. This is such a nice gift.” you said. He said - Try it on- that little liar. A few minutes later you’re down at the end of the stairs dressed beautifully with Nozel handing you a single rose and a nice box. You saw Leo giving you a thumbs up. “ I had the jewelry made just for you.” Nozel spoke as he showed you. “ In purple too. It's perfect.” You replied with a smile. “It goes well with your outfit. He put the necklace on you, along with the bracelet and earrings. “I was surprised when I received your letters. I didn’t know you felt that way about me. I thought about you a few times so I decided to try us out.” Nozel said. You couldn’t believe that Leo went behind your back but you were happy he did. You have a fucking date with Nozel. You guys left your house. A few minutes passed. You ended up in a very beautiful part of the forest. It was also decorated. Nice lights wrapped around the trees. There was a cute table for two with a basket on the table. “ I know you have been into picnics since you were younger. I decided to plan one as our 1st date.” he said. By the end of the day. He took you both on a nice ride. You loved how the breeze felt against your skin. It feel pleasing,however it was cold. You leaned against him. He pulled you in closer. Your heart beat did raise a bit out of nervousness but you also felt safe.“ This is wonderful Nozel.” you said looking up at him. He suddenly kissed you. You returned the kiss. It was your 1st kiss. It made you worry afterwards. What if you sucked at it and he didn’t like it?? Before you knew it, you stood at the front door. Leo was covering for you, its very late. He’s waiting for you by the stairs. You opened the door. “Tonight was great Zel. I enjoyed it very much.” you said. “I enjoyed it as well, it was beautiful. You made me get out of my comfort zone. The picnic, skipping rocks, even stargazing.” he said, placing his hands on your waist and leaning down to kiss you. Leo stopped him. “Hell no!! Not on the 1st date you perv. Now leave.” he said. “ 2nd date then?” Nozel said. “No. Not the 2nd date! Have some respect!” Leo responded. You walked inside smiling. “Oh Leo…your letters sucked. She’s straight forward. She wouldn’t waste her time writing letters. She would’ve shown up at my door and asked.” Nozel said. “ Hey, I was doing both of you a favor. Loser. Nozel you’d probably struggle so much at confessing and y/n you doubt yourself 24/7. I’m the love whisperer. Okay bye Nozel.'' Leo said, shutting the door. “Did you enjoy the date?” Leo asked you. “Leo, did I ever mention you’re my favorite brother?” you asked, saying it like he was your fairy godfather. You and Leo heard a cough. “ I see you’re dating Nozel.” Fuegouleon said. Fuegoleons aura was strong. You and Leo froze in place. “Y-Yes um..Y-Yeah.” you said honestly knowing if you lied you would be in big trouble. “I um..I got them together.” Leo said. “Leopold.That was supposed to be my job.” Fuegoleon said. “Sleepover Leo?” you asked. He nodded. Sleepover meant running from Fuegoleon or Mereoleona and locking yourselves in a room. You both ran fast. “ Emo or Pop?” Leo asked. “Emo!” you responded by running to your room with him. You and Leo made it safely. 

“They can’t stay in there forever.” Mereoleona said from the top of the stairs. “You’re right. Let's sleep now.” Fuegoleon said. The Vermillion family went to sleep to be well rested for tomorrow's chase. Little ones vs older ones. 

As Nozel walked inside and locked the door, his siblings Nebra and Solid stood there. “Where were you? It’s very late.” Nebra said. “ Yeah. We waited for you to show up for dinner.” Solid said, crossing his arms. “ It’s none of your business where I go and You don’t need me to have dinner with you every night.” Nozel said. “Nozel it's almost 1am.” She said, trying to get Nozel’s explanation. Nozel looked in their eyes and felt a bit bad. He didn’t say where he was going nor said he’d be home late and on top of that he never skips dinner with him unless there’s a mission going on. “ I had a date with Y/n Vermillion. We had a nice picnic dinner. Then we lost track of time.” Nozel said smiling. “ You’re dating her? She’s cool or whatever.” Solid said feeling happy his brother is finding happiness just as he should and his other siblings as well. “ You’re with someone that could totally kick your ass. Don’t ruin it. She’s a lovely, strong and smart woman. I like her for you Nozel.” Nebra said, patting his back then ran along to her room. “Goodnight brother.” Solid said and left for his room. 

You and Nozel do end up in a relationship. The way he ask you to be his girlfriend didn’t go as planned. The strong wind blew the balloons away and the cake somehow ended up on his face and shirt but the 1st gift was already inside hidden in Leopold the love whisperer’s closet. A kitten with cute outfits and a large lion decorated bed for him to sleep on. He got you a promise ring(looks more like a wedding ring). It had a purple tourmaline stone with diamonds surrounding it. He balanced the cake with his left hand and took out the ring from his pocket showing it to you.“ W-Will you be my Lady, Y/n?” he asked you. You have him a peck on the cheek tasting the frosting. “Mmm yummy and Yes Nozel. I’d love to be yours.” you replied giggling at how messy he was. Nozel was thankful that he had frosting on his face to cover his blush. He put the ring on as one where the engagement ring would go on. This ring is more as a pre engagement and both of you understood that. Fuegoleon got a photo of that. “We’re putting that in a scrapbook,”Mereoleona said. “ No you’re not.” Nozel said to Mereoleon. “ b-but Nozel I was planning to make a scrapbook of our adventure.” you said with a pouty face. “Alright darling, anything for you.” he replied and pressed a peck on your cheek. “They’re getting married. I know it.” Leo said. Fuegoleon nodded. “ It’s not going to be easy letting go..” Fuegoleon said. “I know big brother. I love our sisters too.” Leo said, trying to hold his tears back. “ Leo, it's okay to cry.” Fuegoleon said, rubbing his back. Leo held onto his brother's robe and cried. Fuegoleon gave him a hug. You saw and rushed over with Nozel and Mereoleona behind you. “What’s going on? Leo, are you hurt?” you asked. He clinged onto you. “ You’re marrying Nozel!!” he cried. You held him. “You’re such a baby Leopold. Even when I’m married I won’t push you aside, dummy.” you smiled at him as you let go. “Okay. You better not.” he replied smiling. “ I promise I won't.” you replied. “ I plan on going on boy trips with you and Fuegoleon so I hope you are up for that.” Nozel said ruffling his hair. “ Hell yes!! Let's do it!!” Leo exclaimed. 

“ I love you guys very much.” You said it out loud. “ We love you too.” they all said. 

I TAKE REQUESTS!!!

[forlorn-crows]

And You Know That It Takes Two

Rating: E for Explicit

Relationship(s): Copia/Dewdrop

Tags: transitional period between era iv and era v, banter, slice of life, first time, first kiss, handjobs. beta'd AND correctly translated italian!

Words: 3731

Summary: “Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?”

When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.

special thanks to @miasmaghoul for beta'ing and @foxybouquet for the italian translations ♡

EDIT: now with ART from the fabulous @noahl-art. merci beaucoup, nono!! find his full artwork here

Read on AO3 or under the cut:

Caro: dear

Stai bene?: (Are) you okay?

Ti piace?: Do you like this?/Does this feel good?

Merdaccia infernale: (roughly) infernal fucking shit. Closest to "unholy shit".

Proprio così: That’s it.

“D’you think Lucifer would want us to have black mass every Saturday?” Dew pokes the wooden arm of Copia’s chair with the toe of his boot. “Shouldn’t we be exercising our sinful wiles instead of listening to you drone on about the Dark One?” 

Copia tugs on a scrap of paper trapped beneath the ghoul’s thigh. “You do plenty of that on your off time, my ghoul,” he teases. He looks over his reading glasses, offering a smirk. Dew can hear the unspoken eh? at the end of his sentence, so much so he can’t help rolling his eyes and smirking back. 

“How would you know, old man?” Dew fires back, flicking the hem of Copia’s trousers with his tail. He leans in closer. Elbows resting on his slightly spread knees until his face is level with the anti-pope’s. “Listening in on your free time?” The fire ghoul smiles wickedly, giving him an obvious once over. He cocks his head and bites his tongue between his teeth, waiting for an answer. 

Copia’s face rosies a bit, but he returns to his chicken scratch. He jots down a few words before he mutters: “I am sure you do not fantasize your Papa spying on you, caro.” 

“Maybe I don’t.” A lie. “Anyway, I think Rain’s loud enough to hear across the fuckin’ abbey. Probably have a soundtrack of water ghoul moans to lull you to sleep every other night,” Dew snickers. 

Copia just shakes his head with an amused sigh and continues taking notes. Little chunks of writing in the margins of photocopies of Latin texts, scrawling in both Italian and English in a little notebook off to the side. Dew’s struck with just how patient this man is, endlessly so. He can get crabby on tour, just like any of them, restless and tired, but he really is kind to him and his pack. 

The fire ghoul hums thoughtfully and returns to his upright position. Leaning back into the circles of bare desk he cleared earlier for his hands. “Do you get tired of putting up with us, Papa?” he asks casually. 

“Dewdrop,” Copia says with a measured tone. He puts his pen down, and his glasses too, looking up at his lead guitarist and steepling his fingers. They’re devoid of gloves, Dew notices in passing, his nails neatly trimmed and his skin smooth and humanly wrinkly. “We have been working together for how many years now?”

Dew shrugs. “A few.”

“Si, quite a few, hm?” Copia agrees. He swivels his chair so his body faces Dew more directly and places a gentle hand on his knee. “Why then, my ghoul, would you think I am ‘putting up with you,’ as you put it?”

“Don’t tell me you actually like us,” Dew says sarcastically. But Copia’s hand is warm on his knee, and he’s trying not to focus too much on how he’s looking at him right now, all soft eyes and a worried crease in his brow. 

“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?”

When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar. 

He’s quiet for so long that Copia clears his throat and gives his knee a polite pat before taking his hand away. He makes to go back to his notes, but Dew mourns the loss of his hand immediately. His pen barely touches the pages before the fire ghoul sobers up and inhales sharply. 

“Uh,” he blurts out stupidly, shaking his head and squinting his eyes at Copia. Unsure what to say but determined to say something. “You mean that?” Immediately he wants to crawl back into himself—back into the Pit, even—for sounding so small. Vulnerable. 

“Yes, I do,” Copia says quietly, genuinely. He taps his pen against the paper, little dots of black littering the line beneath his skip this? note. Instead of resuming his annotations, he sets the pen down once more, looking up at the ghoul perched atop his desk. His white eye is suddenly piercing in the lamplight, and he’s looking at him like he can see more than just the ghoul sitting in front of him.

“Well, I guess we’re . . . fond of you too, or whatever you wanna call it,” he mocks, aiming for levity. Dew’s tail flicks, ruffling the hem of Copia’s pants again.

Copia chuckles. “Well, that is good then,” he smiles.

Dew hums. Offers a one-sided smile in return. Easy. He could leave it at that; resume the relaxed banter about sermons and his new duties as Papa while Copia gets increasingly tired and/or annoyed and shoos him away with a chocolate truffle in hand (the ones he keeps stashed in his desk drawer for evenings like this). 

He could. But in the same moment, he decides he’s tired of tip-toeing around the idea of what this man is to him. He wades out into the waters, throwing a line.

“Is that . . . the only thing you feel for us?” he says at length, quieter. He scoots his thigh closer to the anti-pope’s hand. Encouraging him to touch again, if he wants. The sudden heat in his belly hoping he does. He wades a little deeper. “For me?” 

Now it’s Copia’s turn to falter, fingers twitching at the fabric of Dew’s trousers. He looks down at Dew’s thigh, then back up to his face. Searching his copper eyes for something, anything, his thoughts as loud as if Dew were a quintessence ghoul. 

“I . . .” he trails off, a failed start. He clears his throat. “I am, as they say, only human. So there are, perhaps, other . . . things. Si.” 

Dew grabs his hand gently, placing it just above where it was moments ago, confidence building. “Fantasies, maybe?” 

“Dewdrop—”

“For how bold you are on stage, you sure are fuckin’ shy in private, Papa.”

Copia huffs a laugh, moving his hand tentatively along Dew’s thigh. “Eh . . . reserved, maybe. But I don’t know about shy, my ghoul.” He shuffles his chair so he’s situated back between the fire ghoul’s dangling legs. 

Dew smirks. “See? Can call me motherfucker in front of thousands of screaming girls, but it’s my ghoul in here.”

“Ah, but that is the difference. They do not get the privilege of seeing you offstage.” A beat.  “Though, I imagine they would do a lot of things for that privilege,” he mutters. 

Dew bites his tongue in asserting that he is, in fact, a motherfucker offstage too. Instead, he tilts his head so his ashy hair cascades over his shoulder and spreads his legs further, hooking a foot in the arm of Copia’s chair and tugging it closer. He’s baring all of himself now, literally and figuratively. Potentially risking his position, too, if this goes south. 

But by the look on the anti-pope’s face, they’re both too deep to swim back now. 

“And what’re you gonna do with that privilege, Papa?”

“You’re asking?” he deflects, putting the other hand on the opposite thigh.

“If you don’t touch me in the next five seconds, old man, I swear to Satan—”

“Like this?” Copia smooths his hand up the inside of Dew’s thigh, running along the seam of his pants until he reaches where the ghoul’s started to chub up. His breath hitches, head tilting back. 

“Yeah,” he breathes. He looks back down at his hand, tucking chin to chest as he watches those fingers press just so, right where the tip of his dick sits already sticky in his boxers. He bites his lip with a stifled noise.

“Long time we’ve danced around each other, I think,” Copia says. Dew just nods, flexing his hips into his fingers to get more friction. Copia presses more firmly, taking the hint. Drawing a firm line down the ridge of his clothed shaft. 

“Humans and ghouls, well . . .” he trails off, looking up at Dew.

“You’ve thought about it,” he replies simply. 

“Of course. Of course I have, caro. I–” he laughs, shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean, look at you.” He stops himself, color rising to his cheeks. He drops his gaze, focusing back on the hand on Dew’s fly.

The fire ghoul watches him trace a finger around the button before reaching down himself, popping it open. “What about me?” he asks softly, inviting. Shifting his hips again to encourage him to continue. 

“Not just fishing for compliments, I hope,” Copia teases lightly, a little bit of that stage persona shining through as he drags the zipper down.

“That’s not what—hh-oh.” He cuts himself off with a stuttered breath of a moan, Copia’s hand having reached past his fly and into his pants to pet at the dot of wetness sticking his boxers to his tip. The look of pure curiosity—wonder, really—on the man’s face as he feels him up has his stomach flipping. “Fuck, keep doing that.”

“You tell me what you like, my ghoul, and I will do it,” he whispers. 

Dew groans as another bead of precum blurts out into his boxers, wet at just his words. “Keep teasing it,” he breathes. “Shit, see how wet you can get it.” He twitches under Copia’s fingers as he wraps his hand around his clothed cock, thumb swiping back and forth over the head. Firm, but just light enough that it makes Dew keen for more. 

Copia continues the little motions, over and over until Dew’s underwear clings to him, saturated with pre. The friction of it and the intensity of Copia’s gaze on him has him dizzy, wanting. The man’s thumb presses over his slit, and he can’t help his eyes rolling back, thighs twitching towards each other. 

“F-fuck,” he stutters. 

Copia rubs his other hand over Dew’s thigh, soothing. “Stai bene? Good?” 

The fire ghoul nods, hair falling off his shoulders to frame his face. “More than,” he groans. He bites his lip, bucking into Copia’s hand. “Again—do it agai—yes, Satanas, yes.”

The anti-pope presses into his slit again, this time dragging the pad of his thumb along the ridge with even pressure. Humming as he works it back and forth. It’s so sensitive, so instantly overwhelming that Dew has to consciously restrain himself from gouging his claws into the wood. He lets his head drop back, facing the ceiling and biting his lip to stave off the rush of arousal that threatens to make him spill in his pants. 

Below him, Copia sighs. “Beautiful, caro,” he comments. 

Dew half-snorts, half-groans, bringing his chin back down to his chest. “You flatter me,” he says with an eye roll. 

“They say it gets one everywhere, no?” 

“If by ‘everywhere’ you mean ‘in my pants’.”

“If that is where you want me.”

Dew sucks his teeth, scoffs a little in disbelief. Eyebrows twitching upwards when Copia fingers the elastic of his boxers, blunt nails scratching at the peach fuzz on his stomach. He can’t get a grasp on the anti-pope’s tone, switching so fast between charming and soft it makes his head spin. He’s seen both moods separately, of course, fired back his own quips with a silver tongue or begrudgingly accepted praise and a head pat for a productive rehearsal. But having a cocktail of both leaves him with mental whiplash.

The hand making his dick wet probably isn’t helping in that department.

So he nods instead, helping the man shimmy down the waistband of his boxers to snuggle it under his balls, freeing his aching length. Dew hisses at the cool air of the room breezing over the slick-coated head—though, it’s replaced with a puff of hot air when Copia breathes: 

“May I?” 

Dew nods again, widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows as a silent duh. Copia chuckles at that, scooting a little closer. He smooths his other hand up the fire ghoul’s thigh, up, up, up until he stops at his hip and rests his palm there, forearm dropping to sit on top of his leg. Dew’s stuck watching its ascent and misses the moment the anti-pope reaches for him, wrapping his fingers gently around the base of his cock and stroking upwards. 

“Lucifer,” he chokes out. He snaps his gaze to where their skin meets and watches his dick kick hard in Copia’s fist, more precum welling up in the slit. 

“Ti piace?” Copia continues to stroke slowly, not immediately translating as earlier. His accent curls around Dew’s eardrums, the Italian twisting with foreignness and short-circuiting his language synapses. He shakes his head, begging the small box of Italian in his brain labeled ‘Papa’s Nonsense Words’ to make sense of the phrase.  

He blinks at Copia’s expectant gaze. “Huh?” he asks eloquently, forcing the word through an embarrassing moan.

“Does this feel good?” he supplies, nodding toward his hand. 

The fire ghoul stares at the man’s hand, now wet with his own slick as it glides up and down. When his brain finally catches up to him, he barks a bewildered laugh. “I’m gonna have to learn more fuckin’ Italian for this,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” Copia laughs too, realizing his little slip-up. Dew’s shoulders shake with his own renewed laughter. Giggles passing between the two as if they were twelve-year-olds who just pulled off a prank on their teacher, not a fifty-something leader of a Satanic church jerking off a near immortal hellbeast turned quasi-human. 

But the shared laughter is familiar. Comforting, in a way. Something to dissolve that final layer of caution that sat like oil on water between them. 

“You are an endless delight, my ghoul,” Copia sighs, huffing out a last chuckle. 

“I’ll give you an endless—uuh-nholy ff–fuck.” Copia runs his thumb over the slit of Dew’s cock, and his sentence is reduced to an eye-rolling moan. He grabs hold of the anti-pope’s forearm that rests on his leg, fingers digging into the muscle as he drools out a fat roll of precum. 

Copia hums and smears it around the head, pulling down the foreskin to rub at the sensitive underside. It’s all the courtesy he’s granted before the man goes back to stroking him in earnest, skirting over the head with each downward pass and tightening around the base when he pulls up.  

Dew grips his forearm tighter, thighs jumping with each tease of his frenulum. “Faster,” he begs. “And tighter. Fuck, feels s’ good.” 

“Merdaccia infernale, are you always so . . .” Copia shakes his head, letting the room fill with the lewd, creamy sounds of Dew’s slick-soaked cock.

“Wet?” Dew supplies as a choked-off noise. “Not al–hah–always. Not since—” his eyes roll back again, too caught in pleasure to be completely coherent. “The–shit–the—” Dew flails his hand in some nonsensical gesture. 

“Si, si.” The man understands without further elaboration that he means his elemental transition. That, despite the effective evaporation of his water, the born-again fire ghoul still carries traits from his original alignment—including dribbling pre like a leaky tap.

But Copia knows, doesn’t need him to explain or elaborate. Just tightens his grip and speeds his hand, looking up at Dew with a gaze that cuts him right down to the core. Intense, yet soft and admiring. Desire flickering just behind that. 

“Shit,” Dew hisses, letting his eyes close fully. Sinking into it. His hips are moving of their own accord now, little twitches that meet each downstroke, just barely fucking into Copia’s fist. It’s so much better than it has right to be, but Dew doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way Copia’s hand feels on his dick, the way his other hand grips his hip, the way his breathing grows heavier and tickles the fine hairs at the base of his dick, how it chills the wetness at the tip only to be warmed by his fingers within the same second. 

“Oh, oh, ohhhh fuck, Papa, fuck.” His pleasure heightens suddenly, the backs of his thighs going pleasantly tingly and his toes curling in his boots. He can feel it starting to build, balls drawing closer to his body with every stroke. 

“Close?” Copia whispers, gripping Dew’s hip tighter and shifting in his chair. He grunts a little, no doubt filled out in his slacks too. Dew can’t confirm from this angle, especially not with the way his vision blurs, doubles even. But he has to be, if his wavering voice is anything to go by. 

Dew throbs at just the idea of his cock straining against his zipper, balls heavy and squished between his thighs as he watches the fire ghoul come apart. Neglecting it as he showers Dew with undivided attention. He’s assaulted with the mental image of Copia in those tight, white pants from his Cardinal days, absolutely everything on display, and he groans. 

He’s shaking now, stomach jumping as his breath starts to quicken. He’s sure his eyes are wild as he looks at the man below him, whining through his teeth as his hand moves faster, faster. Dew watches Copia bite his lip and look down at the movements of his hand, and the sudden fantasy image of that mouth kissing the tip of his cock makes him grip the anti-pope’s forearm until it threatens to bruise, nearly doubling over with the swell of impending orgasm.

Dew needs him. He needs him so badly. 

“Gonna cum—fuck, please,” he moans, breath quickening to shortened gasps. “Kiss me—please, m’ gonna—Papa—” Dew grasps at the man’s shirt collar, pulling at it to get him to stand. Dragging him in by the shoulders and kissing him fiercely, whining when Copia groans into his mouth and pumps him even faster. The scent on him is instantly intoxicating; notes of neroli and patchouli, dull wax from the black patches of makeup, the barest hint of incense smoke underneath. All pressed directly into his nostrils where Dew’s nose smushes against his. 

“Proprio così,” Copia mumbles, encouraging. His other arm loops around to cradle him between the shoulder blades, hand threading through his hair to grasp and hold as he kisses him deeply. That little bit of tension on Dew’s scalp sends a zing of heat right to his dick, and he’s moaning like a whore as he scrabbles at Copia’s shirt, ready to fall over the edge.

“Fucking. Fu–uhh, uh, uhh—” Dew loses all sense of words as he clings to him, mouth dropping open and tongue drooling over Copia’s lips. He cums hard, spilling over his hand with a shuddering groan, bucking into that wet fist until he’s risking sliding off the edge of the desk. He doesn’t, of course, braced and embraced by Copia’s body as he is. 

Dew’s head drops to his shoulder as he rides out the seemingly endless spasms. Far too many for a handy, if he’s being honest. But the anti-pope works him over until he’s milked dry, whispering more words into his hair that he doesn’t understand and rubbing a soothing hand over his back. 

“Shit,” he rasps. After a few more moments he peeks down at his lap—lucid enough now to mind his horns—where his black pants are now streaked with white, Copia’s hand resting on his fly also coated in the stuff. He shakes his head softly and laughs. 

“Got me good, old man.”

“Dewdrop . . .” His tone is pleading, breathless. Dew lifts his head and the hand on his back migrates to the side of his face, caressing softly. He leans into it as he looks at Copia, his face flushed and a look of pure want and adoration in his eyes. “Please, caro.”

He doesn’t need to ask what he needs, eyes flicking down to the tent in his pants and back up again. Dew nods. Moves the hands around Copia’s neck to the back of his head, pulling him in. 

It’s less feverish this time. Softer and slower, but far from chaste. Idly he wonders if any of the others have had him like this: privately in his office, a mere exchange of something fleeting, or hot and heavy in a storage closet after a show, frantic and adrenaline-fueled. 

If any of them have, they’ve never told. He’ll go back to the ghoul wing smelling of him, unless he runs straight to the shower. Douse himself in scalding hot water until he can barely smell himself.

But he won’t. 

Dew slides into the space in front of Copia, ignoring the mess on his dick as he presses close to the man. Licking into his mouth and sliding their tongues together as Copia’s hands start to roam. The fire ghoul slots a thigh between his legs as his palms reach his waist, pressing against his crotch. 

Copia whines in his throat, twisting his fingers into the fabric of Dew’s shirt. He’s hard as steel against his leg, throbbing when Dew presses harder and tugging at him like he could still get closer than he already is. 

“Sit down,” Dew rumbles. He breaks the kiss and holds his gaze as he presses on his shoulders, easing him back into the desk chair. Down, down, down until Dew looms over him. He smirks slightly, confidence and ease returning to him as their positions switch. Running his thumb along the painted upper lip then dragging down to the bare one. 

Wordlessly, the fire ghoul sinks to his knees. Scoots Copia to the edge of his chair so he can spread his legs. He smooths his palms up his thighs, his infernal heat seeping through the trousers. He watches Copia’s face as he pets at him, cupping and rubbing at his cock through the layers of fabric. The man’s chest heaves. Hands gripping the wooden arms of his chair. Exhaling shakily as Dew traces a claw around the button on his fly.

“Allow me,” Dew purrs.

[submalevolentgrace]

for pretty much my entire life we have been locking up refugees in UN-certified human-rights-violating "offshore detention" camps for the heinous crime of daring to try and flee from death and worse, often from wars-on-terror we've helped wage, and have very much done highly decorated war crimes in. we hold them in conditions so bad that war-fleeing refugees have sown their mouths shut, tried to starve themselves, even children trying to kill themselves to escape what we're doing to them. WE are doing. because in my boots on the ground activism days i tried to fight the government on this, and the fact is, the australian public on the whole doesn't give a shit about us torturing refugee kids, half the country is in support of it, so the government gets a free pass no matter which side is in power. from howard to rudd to gillard to rudd to abbott to turnbull to morison to albanese, we lock up and torture refugees. the UN anti-torture inspectors aren't allowed to visit. the camps are run by a private USA prison contractor now.

and it's not like we can't organise a protest! we'll barricade MP's offices because of something an ally-in-law country is doing that we condemn, but when the blood is on our hands we don't wanna know, don't wanna fight, don't wanna admit. and albanese gets up there and says those barricades have "crossed a line", "there's no place for violence like this in our democracy", he says. you know where there is an implicit place for violence, apparently? cops beating indigenous kids to death on camera, the australian people are fine with that apparently. happens all the time. better have a curfew so those kids don't get too rowdy about it!

oh and the CIA agents and US soldiers we welcomed here to supposedly defend us, they rape a bunch of women and children, mostly also indigenous? better get ASIO and the AFP to monitor the population for anti-american sentiment, local cops do it plenty too and we can't stand up to the USA, we're about to go to war with our biggest economic trading partner on their behalf, the troop buildup locations have already been announced! sweep it under the rug little aussies, scrub it from your memory, who cares about raped children anyway? not worth protesting, apparently.

we are right in the middle of the asia-pacific, with loosely speaking about a 5th of the population ethnically or culturally asian, and they are absolutely terrified of speaking out about how many hate crimes they suffer constantly, because the other 80% of the population is more culturally invested in american politics than the fact that labor considers pauline hanson an ally. i don't blame the 20% getting hatecrimed for being scared to speak up, i sure as fuck blame the rest of us for not protecting them, and for doing those hate crimes. "wE'rE a MuLtIcUlTuRaL sOcIeTy!! nO rAcIsM hErE!!", but we'll organise citywide marches in the middle of a pandemic if a black american kid gets killed over there, and then tell blak people they're spelling it wrong.

then we flood the region with our white-bleached propaganda and "culture", to control smaller governments and and lure the people of the region here for our economic benefit; the wealthy as fodder to fund the education complex, and the poor to work below-minimum-wage-slavery "jobs programs" on our great proud aussie battler family run farms.

it's all out in the open. the torture, the murder, the rape, the hate crimes, the technically-it's-legally-distinct-from-slavery, it's all known, all reported regularly on the news, endlessly, cyclically, every few months or years, for my whole life. fuck knows what else we're doing and i don't know about because pine gap prevents it from reaching english language news.

i know the internet zeitgeist really only cares about the single latest trending topic to happen, so you're wondering what that is to make me react enraged and ashamed; but it's everything. i haven't even scratched the surface, just ranting off the top of my head.

every day i carry the shame of what a disgusting violent colony nation this is; to the people who consider themselves australian, to the people here before the nation and their descendants, to the people surrounding us now. i carry the guilt of failure to stop it, and casual complicity of having given up the fight because i couldn't handle it. i think that's what most activists do here, give up in shame, because activists aren't fighting the government - we have one of the most free and open democracies in the world, and the spineless cowards in charge absolutely will do what the populace whims of them - activists here are fighting the cruel and apathetic average australian, who either don't care, or active condone it all. we have the blood of this country on our hands.

so.

what has australia done now?

it's fucken wednesday, mates. nothing new.