#Religion (TV genre)

[miaoua3]

Be My Sin.

Pairing: priest!joshua x stripper!f!reader

Genre: smut (MDNI), piv sex, oral sex (f! receiving), religious trauma/inner conflict, slight angst from joshua’s side (thoughts about regret, religion and such), stripper x priest, virgin! joshua

Warnings: mentions of r@pe and p€dophilia as the reason why joshua’s faith in god is wavering, and once again, smut (MDNI)

Description: after years of being a priest, joshua starts questioning his faith in god after receiving some upsetting news. what was supposed to be a walk to clear his mind ends up being a walk straight to his most delicious sin-you.

Note: THIS IS FOR MY POOKS EAT UP HOE (also keep in mind that a lot of thoughts on religion may or may not reflect my own thoughts about it lol). another note: i really said porn WITH plot lmao this one is looong boys, buckle up.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

it must’ve been two hours already since the bartender slid a whiskey neat across the counter and towards joshua. and for the past two hours, joshua has just been staring at the glass and how the low light of the bar has been reflecting in the dark liquor, thinking if he should give into the temptation and break his promise that he made to god, or if he should just get up and leave.

in the 12 years of his life as a priest, joshua has never been more confused, angry and scared like he has been since he heard the news this morning.

joshua takes ahold of the glass and spins it around, and just….thinks.

should he or should he not?

at this point, the whiskey has gone warm, probably not even in the drinkable state anymore, but he wouldn’t care about it.

as long as it makes him forget this whole day today, he’s willing to down even poison.

being betrayed by a friend always hurt him the most. it’s sad, really, feeling pity and disappointment towards the people you once felt nothing but love and affection for.

but this…this is much more than just betrayal.

this is his friend going against everything they have been taught while on their path to become priests.

his friend since childhood, who inspired him to do better and devote his life to spirituality, who guided him towards being a better person.

he was charged with sexual assault of a young girl.

she is only 7 years old.

a bile starts rising up joshua’s throat the more he thinks about it, how he trusted him and saw him as some form of a hero. and so, before he can even think about it, in hopes that it will stop him from indecency that is puking in the bar, joshua picks up the glass and downs the whiskey in one, breaking his sobriety of almost 15 years.

the liquor burns his throat, the aftertaste on his tongue not all that pleasant, it actually makes him scrunch his face in disgust.

joshua then raises a hand and orders another one.

and another one.

and another one.

he stops counting how many he orders after that.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

joshua is stumbling over his feet as he drunkenly walks on the side walk, observing the pretty city lights and cars as they pass him by. he isn’t sure where he’s headed, letting his absent mind take him wherever it wants.

after the bartender called the last call, he thought that a walk would help him clear his mind. so, after paying for all his drinks, he just…started walking. and he hasn’t stopped for an hour now.

he stumbles as he tries to stop and look at the window of a shop that sells mostly technology, a bunch of tv’s on display behind the window.

he stops to look at whatever ads are being shown on the screen, vision blurry and hazy due to the insane amount of alcohol that is in his blood right now.

his eyebrows immediately scrunch in pain at the pictures that are being shown to him, his hand unconsciously coming up to rub his chest right where his heart is over his black shirt.

bunch of children just running around in slow motion, happy smiles and missing teeth the only things joshua’s mind can focus on.

this is what children should look like, happy and carefree. how could anyone even think about doing things so atrocious and vile to them, like he did? how can anyone harm the ones who least deserve it, who are nothing but pure and innocent?

there’s nothing joshua loved more than when children would come up to him after the sermons and talk to him, seeing children being so curious and mildly confused about the complex that is a religion. it always made him so happy to explain them the things they would ask about in the most simplistic way possible, sometimes even struggling to find the right words to explain things as to not make them even more confused.

seeing the good in people, especially in the young ones, always made his heart swell up with hope and love towards them.

now he isn’t even sure if there’s any hope left in his heart, only rage and hurt floating on the surface of it.

he watches the tv’s for another minute or so, overcome by the thoughts of the terrible day that he it has been today, from the moment he got the news this morning, him struggling to get through the morning sermon, turning away people that wanted to go to the confessionals to him and get the heavy stuff off their hearts, all the way to him downing the alcohol as if it were water.

finally turning away from the window of the shop, joshua attempts to start walking again, stumbling only minimally, only to come to a stop yet again as a wave of nausea hits him.

his hand shots out automatically to grab onto the street light, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on not spilling out his guts right on the middle of the sidewalk.

he’s taking deep breaths in and out when he hears some loud voices from across the street, drunken laughter mixed with it. he opens his eyes to look at what it might be.

a tall old building stares back at him, the bottom part littered with glaring neon signs, one in particular catching his attention. a silhouette of a woman in a martini glass, one leg kicked up to show off her high heel, hands thrown in the air as to signify that she’s having a good time.

huh. a strip club.

normal and sober joshua would never admit this out loud-or while alive for that matter, considering his profession- but he was always a bit curious about strip clubs. naturally, he has met his fair share of sex workers, he even helped a few of them get from troublesome situations where they were being threatened or abused, always ready to help anyone in need regardless of their background and/or profession.

he has never been in one though, as he had no reason to go.

his bloody eyes watch as a white convertible rolls up to the club, parks and turns the lights off. and then, like some sort of angel, steps out what he can only describe as the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on, all short skirts and tops, hair swishing around as she turns her head while she locks the doors of her car, before she proceeds to walk up the stairs and inside the building, disappearing as easily as she appeared.

joshua swallows harshly, unsure if his throat is dry due to the hot summer night that he finds himself in or because of the woman that just made him realise that heaven was more than just a place that he will officially never see.

before he can rationalise his thoughts, his legs start moving all on their own, walking across the street (and almost getting hit by a car that he didn’t see in the process) and through the door of the strip club.

he never had a reason to go inside a place like this, right?

well, one reason was just found.

he struggles as he walks through that type of curtain that is made out of beedy tussles, almost choking himself with one as he tries to get it out of his face.

the scene in front of him makes him freeze in his place, gulping heavily due to unfamiliarity of it all.

in the centre laid a stage in a shape of a martini glass, just like in the front. on both sides of the stage there were many leather chairs, the kind that you can just hear squeaking under your ass simply by looking at it. a part of the stage was covered by red curtains, the type that you can just tell are heavy and velvety to the touch. above that, on the wall, hung another neon sign.

angel’s heaven.

how ironic.

joshua walks to the left, where a bar with a few busy bartenders can be seen, patiently waiting on his turn to order.

before you ask- only water for him from now on.

he wants to remember everything he’s about to see.

as he waits, he can feel the people judgementally looking at him because of the uniform that he has yet to give a fuck about, the roman collar poking at his neck even after years of wearing it, the black shirt and pants making him look at least a bit presentable.

when his turn finally comes, he orders himself a water, drowning it in one go before he shyly asks for another glass.

as he pushes through the mass of people, he finally comes to where the leather chairs are. he decides to stay standing as it gives him a much better view of the stage.

just as he was turning his head left and right to look around, joshua notices the lights dimming around him and shining brighter on the stage, making it the main point of the room.

suddenly, some sexy jazz music starts playing, the kind where you find yourself imitating the sound of the trumpets. the red curtains get pulled to the sides harshly, revealing 4 figures behind it.

only then is the setup shown to the audience, the neon sign outside making much more sense now that joshua can see two gigantic martini glasses with a stepping stool on sides of it. in between them there are two tall poles.

joshua watches as two women on the ends carefully yet sexily climb the stepping stools so they can get into the martini glasses, making the liquid inside it splash on the sides. while they are trying their best to make it as sexy as possible to get into gigantic glasses, another two women present themselves to the public, wearing lacy and ever so sexily red lingerie.

men around him start to whistle and cheer, the one closest to the stage already throwing dollar bills at them, but joshua can only focus on one of the women that is on one of the poles, swaying her body, hips and hair to the jazzy rhythm.

you. the woman from earlier.

the reason for his sin.

he watches carefully as you wrap one leg around the pole, spinning gently and artistically, your hair swishing behind you. he gulps when you stop spinning, only to get down on your knees and let yourself to sort of dive into the floor, your chest touching the floor, your position giving the audience a beautiful view of your ass cladded in the red lacy panties.

joshua isn't sure if the other woman next to you is doing the same moves as you because his eyes, mind and desires are solely focused on you, but by the cheers of the men, he can only guess that she is.

he continues to watch with a weird feeling climbing up his stomach as you pull yourself back up, staying on your knees as you tilt your head back and play with your hair, your tits moving up and down as you intentionally inhale and exhale extra hard, slowly bouncing on your knees.

you then get back up to your feet-still as sexily as possible-your smile blinding the men in the chairs, and joshua too. you turn around to give men an even better view of your ass as you sway it to the music.

joshua has to remind himself to breathe again, air trapped inside his throat, only noticing it due to getting a bit lightheaded.

but that just might be the alcohol.

or you.

the cheers continue as you and your partner spin on the poles, throwing money and words like ''yeah baby, spin that ass! take that bra off!'', making joshua only mildly uneasy and annoyed, maybe even a bit jealous.

the show continues for half an hour, closer to 40 minutes, and joshua watches you and only you the entire time. at the end, you and the other stripper do the last spins before you slowly come to the stop, slowly stepping on your feet as the music cuts off.

the cheerful screams suddenly turn into those of slight disappointment as the two women (who joshua hasn't even looked at once) step out of the big martini glasses, to join you and your partner for the final bow. while you wait, you scan the crowd for the potential customers for one-on-one sessions, smiling and waving a bit to the ends who scream for you, when you suddenly notice in the far back, watching you with mouth agape, the most beautiful face you have ever seen illuminated under the neon lights of the club, his cheeks noticeably rosy even from a distance.

and then you notice his attire.

huh. a priest.

how ironic.

as you smile at him, both with certain gentleness and sinisterness, joshua's heart drops to his feet.

oh how much fun are you going to have with him.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

joshua never walked faster in his life, tripping tipsily over his legs as he reaches the bar he ordered his water from.

the second he’s in front of a bartender, he’s slamming his hand against the bar to balance himself up, and with desperate eyes asking the bartender “how do i get into the vip? are there private sessions with the dancers? private rooms maybe? how much would something like that cost? actually never mind, i’d pay however much it costs-“.

the bartender just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for joshua to realise that his rambling is a bit distasteful as well as embarrassing.

as it registers in his brain just how judgementally the bartender is looking at him, making him blush a little in embarrassment, shyly whispering “I apologise”.

seeing that he’s finished with the rambling, the bartender explains “there is vip section but that is for groups of 4 or more, so i’m guessing you are not interested in that.”

joshua just nods along, waiting for him to get to the part that he wants to hear about.

the bartender then continues “we also have private rooms for one-on-one sessions. you can pick the dancer, but if they’re busy with another customer or with the vip section, you can either wait for them to be done or request another dancer.-“

having heard enough, joshua interrupts him “is the pretty dancer-the-the one on the right pole-is she free? nobody booked her already, right?"

the bartender yet again gives joshua an are you serious right now? look, prompting joshua to look down bashfully, mumbling yet another "i apologise", scratching the back of his neck due to the awkwardness that has ensued.

seeing that he can speak freely again, the bartender continues "yes she is free, would you like me to book you a session with her?"

joshua nods enthusiastically, eyes shining brightly both due to the alcohol and excitement.

after paying for a double session, joshua follows the instructions given by the bartender and walks straight ahead until he reaches a hallway, where he turns right and enters the third door on the left side.

the room is isolated from top to bottom in some sort of leather material, probably as a way to sound proof the room of...everything and anything that might go on in it. in the centre of the room, there is a black, circular table with a pole going right through it. right in front of it stood a noticeably low black leather chair, intended for the customers, joshua assumes.

with unsure steps, joshua walks over to the chair before he takes a seat, looking around and observing the very weird room.

suddenly, the door that he has just walked through open, revealing your beautiful self wrapped in a silky white robe. joshua's breath catches in his throat upon seeing the sight in front of him, how beautiful you look so up close, how you radiate absolute confidence and effortless sexiness.

you look down at the chair only to see joshua in it, a smirk immediately appearing on your face.

"well aren't you a fast one, father. or should i say...", you pause for a moment to take a few more steps and grab the chair, leaning across the chair until your lips are right by his ear, the smirk spreading by every passing second.

"...daddy?", you finish, barely containing your cackling.

joshua just makes a face of disgust, if you were to look up the definition of the word "ew", you'd see his face right next to it instead of a complicated sentence.

expressing as much, joshua ushers out "ew, no, don't call me that, that's just- yeah no.", finishing his rant with a full body shiver.

cackling at his reaction, you proceed to walk over to the table. before sitting down on it, you quickly take off your robe and throw it somewhere to the side, beyond caring about it this far in your career.

joshua gulps as he sees you sitting on the table right in front of him, your red heel grazing his pants as you go to cross it. he tries really reaaally hard not to look at your exposed skin and how the lingerie clings to your skin. force of habit maybe? or maybe he's clinging onto the little hope he had left in himsef.

chuckling at his behaviour, how skittish he was, wiggling around his chair and looking away, all while redness greeted his cute cheeks, you start questioning him.

"so, father, what brings you here?", you tilt your head as you look at him, waiting for an answer.

joshua finally looks back at you, making it very evident that he's focusing on your face only. gulping yet again, he answers "just...thought i'd come and see what a-a place like thi-this would look like-", but before he can finish the sentence, you interrupt him.

"that's not what i meant."

joshua looks startled and confused, looking at you questioningly.

smiling a little at him, you stand up before him and come closer, your legs parting his own. joshua's eyes bulge out of its sockets so much that they look like they're about to fall out any second. his eyes follow the silhouette of your body-starting at the legs, and how glowy and shiny they looked under the blue light of the room. next were the hips that were right in front of his face. joshua had to swallow harshly as he eyed the red underwear hugging your lower body-the lacy material, how see-through it was. unintentionally he paid extra attention to your tummy and how cute it looked to him-somehow it made you look more human.

finally, his eyes skim over your tits, just briefly however, before he finally comes to look you in the eyes again.

you smile at his flustered expression, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear. using the free space between his legs, you place on of your knees there, his half hard crotch already pressing against it. grabbing the chair right by where joshua's head is, ever so slowly you lean in until your noses are almost touching.

with your eyes locked now, you whisper in the little space between you two.

"what are you doing here, in my room?"

it takes joshua a bit to find his words due to being absolutely and incandescently in awe of you. his eyes are flying all over your face, taking in your beauty. if somebody were to watch the scene unfold from the sidelines, they would think that joshua might be in love.

with earnestness swimming in his eyes, he looks you directly in the eyes as he stutters out "because you are the most beautiful woman i have ever seen in my life. i just...i had to."

his response evidently stunts you, because the gentle smile from your lips slowly fades away, something between amazement and dumbstruck appearing in your eyes instead.

nobody has ever said something so...nice to me.

and you look. you look and you search in his eyes. for doubt. for earnestness. for honesty.

placing a hand on his cheek, you whisper ever so quietly.

"i'm going to kiss you now."

not giving him the time to overthink it, you lean in and gently kiss his lips. joshua, in return, starts feeling like he's having a heart attack, but doesn't pull away.

only a fool would pull away from the most beautiful women's kiss.

once you let your kiss naturally fall apart, joshua just blinks at you, his whole face red and his eyes as big as saucers.

you place the other hand on his other cheek as well, leaning your forehead against his. rubbing his cheeks to calm him down, you whisper "touch me, don't be shy" before you kiss his pouty lips again.

the man in question responds to your kisses but makes it evident that he's a bit unsure, a bit scared, and that he's letting you take control and lead the pace of the kiss.

after a minute or so of your kissing, of your tongue invading his mouth, of gently biting his lower lip to tease him and so that you can hear that little noise of surprise leaving his mouth, joshua finally places his hands on the back of your thighs-gently, of course. instead of grabbing them and using his hold to pull you onto his lap like you want him to, he just...hold them there, kind of like he's supporting them in case they might give out beneath you.

not liking this, you bite his lip again, this time a bit harder, sort of as a warning, before you pull away to look him in the eyes as you say one word only. one word that will unravel the true beast within him.

"harder."

just like a light switch, something changes in his eyes, before he grabs the back of your thighs harshly and leaning back in to kiss you like a starved man would.

his kiss is bruising, and it hurts you so good-the way his lips perfectly wrap around your own, the way his tongue dances and battles for dominance against your own, the way his hand squeeze and release your thighs periodically.

everything he does hurts you so good and deliciously.

sensing that you leaning down like this might be a bit uncomfortable for you, he uses his hold on your legs to pull you towards him, making you straddle him.

getting his cue, you oblige happily, sitting yourself on his lap, maybe but just maybe wiggling a bit on his lap to tease him, which seems to go exactly according to your plan. his hands immediately grab onto your bare ass, squeezing so hard, like he's trying to ground himself, to anchor himself, all while moaning directly in your mouth.

being naturally moved by his hands on your body, you unconsciously start rocking your hips back and forth, making joshua squeeze your ass cheeks even harder, to an almost bruising degree.

suddenly, a thought strikes you like a lighting making you part your lips with the man beneath you.

joshua just looks at you, somewhat scared, somewhat questioningly. but before he can start puking out all of his questions, you tilt your head to the side as you ask him.

"i never asked for your name, and i imagine you wouldn't like me calling you father the entire time, so. what is it?"

joshua just blinks for a few seconds before he answers "joshua, my name is joshua."

you smile at his words before you grab the back of his hair, making the man drop his mouth open as he moans at your action.

smirking directly against his lips, you compliment him "good boy", before you are kissing him to the degree of insanity.

using the newfound knowledge that pulling his hair does it for him, you use the hold on his hair to push and pull his head in directions that you want him to so you can kiss him under all the possible degrees there are. tilting his head to the left, you let your tongue battle against his own. he tries to put up a fight, but inevitably loses the moment you pull his hair even more.

somewhere between the minutes of being lost in your kisses, joshua starts rocking his own hips upwards, right into your barely covered crotch. just as he realises what he's doing and is about to pull away and apologise, you moan needily in his mouth, pressing your hips stronger against his own.

finally having had enough of his gentlemen-ess, you grab one of his hands from your ass only to push it in your own underwear.

joshua gasps at the action, blushing like crazy. looking you directly in the eyes, you just respond to his visible doubt.

"stop being a gentlemen and fuck me already."

....well.

still holding back a bit, joshua starts off slowly, rubbing his fingers over....something. considering that he has never done any of this, joshua is proud of himself for even being in this position in general. he always thought that...sex will always remain an unexplored territory, considering that he's a priest and all.

having sensed that joshua has never fingered a woman ever, you pull back, using his knees to balance your hands on.

looking him directly in the eyes, you order him with all seriousness.

"take my panties off."

joshua looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights for a second, before he looks down at your underwear just as confused, wondering how he's supposed to take them off while you are still sitting on his lap.

rolling eyes a bit at this, you help the poor man by adding "rip them off."

cue more startled looking at you.

gently taking the sides of your underwear, joshua exhales before he harshly pulls on the red fabric. it ends up ripping much easier than he thought it would.

huh. maybe he was stronger than he previously thought. or maybe the underwear was just that flimsy.

having been freed of the panties, you come to crowd his personal space again, taking his hand in yours again, making sure to keep the eye contact with him.

"okay, welcome to 'how to finger a woman 101' class. it's not hard math, you just have to know that every woman is different and likes different things, as well as that there are things all women like."

joshua furrows his eyebrows, if this were a cartoon, a question mark would start flying around his head just about now.

instead of explaining what all those things could be, you just bring his hand back to your pussy. you make his fingers spread you open, showing him where the magic happens.

hoarsely, you say against his lips "now i'll teach you what i like."

joshua, ever the good boy, just nods his head, his eyes wide and mouth agape as he exhales shakily.

taking over his fingers and keeping yourself open for him, you nod downwards, to your glossy and wet pussy.

"see the little bundle of top?", joshua looks down and nods when he notices the bundle in question, gulping at the sight beneath him, fingers and mouth itching to get them on you.

"rub it. gently."

joshua's eyes search for permission in your own for a second, only starting once you nod.

he uses his point and middle finger to gently and slowly rub circles on your clit, watching out for your reactions. you exhale slowly, eyes automatically closing the longer he goes on,

"put more pressure. and a bit faster."

as if he were your servant, joshua obliges immediately.

your moans are all the validation he needs, enjoying how it rings in the shell of his ear, how pretty they sound. like a tune that he himself is making.

gradually and mindlessly, joshua applies even more pressure and starts going faster, getting lost in your pretty noises and lust-filled air. he doesn't even know when he starts, but suddenly he notices that his lips are on your neck, licking, kissing and sucking on the skin there.

your moans get louder, which is exactly what joshua wanted. you're getting so lost in the pleasure that you feel the need to grab onto something, or else you fear you might fly away. you search for something to hold on, only finding his hair in return.

pulling on it harshly makes joshua moan loudly against the skin of your neck, his fingers rubbing your clit even harsher, even faster.

"don't stop."

you pull his head even closer, moaning away in his ear, curses and his name mixed with it the faster you approach your end. joshua, in return, doesn't stop what he's doing, just like you tell him. his lips bite your neck harshly, some sort of animalistic urge to mark you, to make you his taking over his mind.

legs squeezing around his, spasming and shaking as you're reaching your orgasm, you almost scream in his ear "fuck! don't sto-ah, i'm cumming, i'm cumm-"

you never get to finish that sentence as your finish interrupts you. throwing your head back, you pull on joshua's hair so harshly he fears he might lose the hair you are pulling on like a maniac.

riding through your orgasm, joshua finally starts slowing down when he notices you running away from his touch. figuring you have came, he finally stops, eyes immediately looking for your approval and review.

forehead coated in sweat, skin glistening, eyes still shut in pleasure-joshua thinks this might be the most beautiful sight he has ever witnessed.

opening your eyes, you smile at his cute expression, with red cheeks and sparkly eyes.

ready to give him a response, you pull his face towards your own, kissing him passionately, relaxing in his hold the moment his arms wrap themselves around your waist.

parting your lips, your hand gently grabs his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

looking him directly in the eyes, so he know you mean every word you're about to say, you praise him.

"good boy."

your words setting him off, he immediately goes back in to kiss you, to eat you alive. grabbing your thighs, joshua then stands up while holding you, making you gasp in his mouth.

he lays you not-so gently on the table in front of him (not that you are complainig, you are loving this rough and wild joshua), his mouth biting your lower lip harshly. your nails imbed themselves in his back, pulling on his shirt, trying to pull it off him.

being sick of his own shirt, joshua pulls away to quickly take it off, revealing a surprisingly ripped and muscular build of his.

your breath catches in your throat, mouth salivating to get your hands on him.

grabbing the front of his pants, you pull him harshly towards you. taken aback by this move, joshua falls over you, luckily reflexes coming in handy and using his hands to catch himself and not squish you beneath his weight.

you immediately grab his face and pull him back for a wild kiss, his tongue responding enthusiastically to your own entering his mouth. and his hands? oh they have a mind of their own. grabbing your thighs and hiking them up against his hips, before they shamelessly grab your tits, squeezing them over the red material of your bra.

wanting- no, needing to feel them bare, joshua pulls away for a second in favour of ripping your bra from your body, snapping the front of before he pushes it aside.

his mouth immediately wrap themselves around your right nipple, sucking on them like an animal.

you arch your back at the contact, hands grabbing onto his hair harshly as you moan loudly.

letting the boy have his fun for about a minute, enjoying the way he's sucking on your tit, how he lets himself go and bite the skin of it, marking it with the imprint of his teeth. you let him have his fun for about two minutes before you are pulling his hair harshly until his face is in front of your own.

exhaling against his lips, you utter.

"fuck me. now."

normally joshua would kill to do as you say. normally. but the urge to get his lips on your sweet little pussy wins over that.

without answering you, he lowers himself until he is face to face with your lower body, eyes trained to focus on you.

his breath that leaves his mouth grazes the skin of your pussy, goosebumps appearing on your skin as it does.

eyes filled with desire, he says the words that will come to haunt your dreams for years to come.

"teach me how you want it. how you like it."

and then his mouth is on you, starving as ever. his lips-it's like he's trying to make out with your pussy, not afraid of getting messy, his spit dripping down. sucking on the clit, his eyes focus on your face for a reaction. your back arch the longer he keeps sucking and kissing you down there.

hands grabbing onto his hair, you pull onto his hair, almost as if you are trying to get more of him, to get him deeper inside of you.

getting your cue, he lets his tongue prod and explore your entrance for a bit, before he let it fully enter your hole, swirling it around, gathering your taste on it so he can taste you as he swallows.

seeing by your moans that you like it, he replaces his tongue with one finger, slowly pushing it inside of you.

throwing your head back at the feeling of fullness, you moan at the way he pushes the finger in and out of you, slowly twisting it each time. while he fingers you, joshua focuses his lips back again on sucking on your clit, using his tongue to flick it before he wraps his lips around it and suck it.

distinctly joshua registers you moaning "more", which he immediately responds with pushing another finger inside of you.

he keeps on going in a relentless pace, fingers pushing inside of you faster than they pull outside of you. while his fingers are working you, his mouth focuses more on his own pleasure, drinking your juices as if they were honey.

you let him eat you out for a few minutes, let him work out another orgasm out of you. but not only that-you let yourself enjoy, actually enjoy being with a man. a man who, presumingly, has never touched a woman this way before yet does a better job in satisfying you than all those fuck ass, try-hard man in power who only care about themselves.

a man who makes you feel like a woman.

feeling yourself reaching the finish faster than before, you forcefully pull his head, ignoring his hissing in pain, until his mouth are kissing your lips this time.

although his mouth aren't on you anymore, his fingers certainly are, still pushing inside of you at the relentless pace. you basically have to moan out "you had your fun, now fuck me", because joshua certainly wasn't stopping.

seeing as he was almost in a trance, eyes glossy and hazy, you take the situation in your own hands. literally.

grabbing the hem of his pants, you feel his front up in order to find the zipper, feeling up joshua's bulge in the process. finally feeling it, you pull it down to your best abilities, considering that joshua is distracting you with his kisses.

you pull harshly on his pants, just wanting them off of his sexy ass (that you felt up in the process of getting rid of his pants-nice and juicy, you must admit). with his pants you also pull down his black underwear, his dick jumping out freely.

you push joshua's chest a bit so you can actually look down and see his dick.

to say that you are very pleasantly surprised is an understatement. his cock is so...beautiful. with a pinkish tip, it slightly curves to the right. although not the thickest one you have seen, he's still definitely up there, with his size as well.

you take him and you pump him a few times, smiling widely the way joshua's pretty moans fly out of his mouth involuntarily.

guiding his cock to where you need him the most, you hear joshua exhale shakily. in excitement or fear, is the only question.

you put your hand on his cheek, making him focus back on you. looking at him with gentle eyes, you try to reassure him a bit.

"it's okay, if you don't want to, you can still walk away, baby. it'd be a shame, considering i don't see a face this pretty in here that often, never mind between my legs."

joshua weighs his options for a few seconds, but deep deep down, in his soul, he knows what the right answer it.

he has sinned plenty already today, what's one more?

and with that thought, he grabs the base of his cock and starts pushing inside.

after a minute or so, you both moan in unison as he finally bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. joshua has to take a moment to recollect himself and pray to god that he doesn't cum right there right that second with how much you are squeezing him.

your long nails claw at his naked back, sure to leave scratches for tomorrow to be seen. the way he fills you up, the way he makes you feel full and good. it's a little too much for you, it makes you want him even more, and you want him now.

pushing your heels against his ass, you signal to him to start moving which he does.

he starts off slow, taking his time, like he wants to remember it all, to remember you. he rocks his hips against your own so deliciously, you can't help but let the moans escape you.

gradually, he fastens his pace until he catches a rhythm that suits you both, skin slapping the only sound in the room besides your panting and moans.

he masters the moves pretty quickly, his moves rolling more so than hammering, just like how you like it.

his tip keeps on hitting your sweet spot over and over again, the tension in your tummy starting to slowly build again because of it after a few minutes of him going at it.

joshua notices how you start to squeeze more tightly around his cock, how you are trying to milk him dry-and succeeding, by the looks of it.

naturally, he starts going faster, until he's just chasing his high. his hips slam against your asscheeks, leaving the skin red and tender to each following contact of his hips.

the entire time he's fucking you, joshua is either attempting to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth and all, or he's just keeping them there, touching your own as he's moaning and groaning.

his sounds make you go insane, from him moaning while saying "pussy so good" to groaning out a "god, fuck" every now and then.

it all messes with your head.

it all makes you want him to cum. now.

you hug his shoulders and brace your heels against his back, trying everything to keep him as close as possible. your mouth end up right by his ear, moaning one thing over and over again.

"cum for me."

joshua chases both your and his high, holding back from giving you what you want until you cum first.

your pleasure first, then his.

he wants you to milk him dry as he's cumming, not a second earlier or later.

he keeps on fucking you, repeatedly hitting your spot until you scream "i'm cumming!" right into his ear. you squeeze around him so tightly that it triggers his own orgasm, spilling inside of you, coating your walls white in his cum.

he groans as he finishes inside of you, riding out both your orgasms, his hands clawing at your thighs, pulling you closer until his balls are right against your ass.

once he feels that he's overstimulating both himself and you, he stops, but he makes no move to pull out, letting himself fall on top of you instead.

for a minute or so, you two just breathe as you hold each other, his face buried in your neck with his eyes closed, blissfully basking in the glory of the post-orgasm.

once you regain your breath, you post a question that only a fool would say no to.

"wanna go again?"

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Intertextuality

Applying Literary Inspiration to Your Writing

The concept of intertextuality is a literary theory stating all works of literature are a derivation or have been influenced by a previous work of literature.

There is deliberate intertextuality, which purposely borrows from texts,

and there is latent intertextuality, which is when references occur incidentally—the connection or influence isn’t deliberate—as all written text makes intertextuality possible.

Some intertextual references are exact lines of dialogue or action, while others are more vaguely referenced.

The definition of intertextuality includes forms of parody, pastiche, retellings, homage, and allegory.

Any work of literature that is involved in the creation of a new text is considered intertextual.

Tips for Using Intertextuality

Intertextuality is a literary device that can be used in a number of different ways within your own work:

Venture outside the genre. You can use works like Dante Alighieri’s The Divine Comedy or John Milton’s Paradise Lost to craft an intertextual work that isn’t a biblical or religion-themed story. Horror can inspire comedy, like for spoofs or parodies, and comedy can inspire drama. Lines of dialogue can be used as titles or inspiration for your work, storylines can be placed in a different time or setting to create a new plot, even text from formal essays or other parodies can be used within your own writing to make it intertextual.

Embrace it. According to some, intertextuality is either deliberate or latent but is completely unavoidable. Every text has been influenced by the countless ones that have come before it. With that in mind, it’s okay to accept that “everything has already been written” and make something of your own.

Don’t plagiarize. You may not need to use quotation marks, but using another author’s work as a basis for your own does not mean copying their writing—or taking credit for their original writing. Intertextuality is about referencing, allusions, satire, and borrowing, not taking whole texts and changing the character names.

Examples of Intertextuality

In the 1960s, literary critic Julia Kristeva posed the idea that intertextual relationships could be found throughout many forms of literature—different texts exist through their relation to prior literary texts—feeding into the idea that no text is truly or uniquely original. The notion of intertextuality posits that everything has some form of influence or borrowing from literary works of the past.

According to Kristeva, nearly all works contain some form of reference to another work of the past. Below are examples of many famous writings that employ the use of intertextuality:

The main plotline of Disney’s The Lion King is a take on Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

The structure of James Joyce’s Ulysses is modeled after Homer’s Odyssey.

Jane Smiley’s A Thousand Acres is a contemporary retelling of Shakespeare’s King Lear.

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys is an intertextual work of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre as it includes the wife of a secondary character from the novel as one of its own, and offers an alternative point of view on similar social issues of the prior narrative.

Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series is an inverted retelling of John Milton’s Paradise Lost.

Matt Groenig’s television show The Simpsons uses multiple intertextual references to literature, films, other tv shows, and commercials for its storylines and jokes.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[neuroticbookworm]

Engagement of QL Fandom in Indian Queer Media

I was tagged by @lurkingshan and invited to respond to an ask she received from @impala124 that noted the absence of India in the Asian queer media spaces and discussions, and questioned the reasons behind it. @starryalpacasstuff has also responded to it in a great post (check out the reblog additions for a treasure trove of Indian queer media recs), discussing, among many things, Korea’s culture export aiding their queer media ventures, access to Indian queer media, and the quality of Indian queer media. @twig-tea’s addition discussed the ease of access of Thai BLs via YouTube and how it prompted Korea and Japan to re-enter the genre.

My thoughts on Indian queer media are complicated and involve several detours to understand Indian media culture, its economic power, and how it navigates international viewership. For context, I am an Indian cinephile who grew up watching a wide variety of Indian media in terms of both language and genre. I naturally transitioned into watching Western content as globalization of the 2010s brought HBO and Comedy Central to Indian screens, and later sought out queer media, Asian media and Asian queer media on the internet.

Indian Media Industry - A Primer

I know there are a lot of countries right now that produce QL media, so I am gonna mainly consider Thailand, Japan, and Korea, the three countries most prolific with ql, for the purpose of this discussion. All of these countries, while regionally diverse, have managed to considerably homogenize in language and culture over the course of history and colonization. India, on the other hand, is still significantly and distinctly diverse in language, culture, religion, food, media styles, social norms, and on and on. India has 22 official languages and thousands of regional ones that are used in various capacities everyday. This diversity is then reflected in the media produced by India, with multiple powerhouse film industries dominating box offices simultaneously. Bollywood is the biggest one and obviously well known internationally, but Tamil, Telugu, Malayalam, Kannada, Punjabi, Bengali-language film industries are successful in their own right and consistently produce box office hits and self-sustain in the larger Indian media landscape. This makes domestic media highly regional in India. Even today, in the age of social media, it takes a box office success to the tune of hundreds of millions of rupees for a film to break out of its domestic audience and cross over into other Indian states.

This diversity has also led to the different industries developing media styles unique to them. I watched this video a while ago of a creator documenting his experience of dipping toes into Indian Cinema for the first time, and he ends up covering three movies from three different industries, because the pathos of each of them is so fundamentally different yet effective in their own ways. This diversity also applies to the television industry, both traditional cable TV soaps, and the modern shows made for streaming sites. And all of this, *waves hands*, presents a set of challenges like no other country faces for both Indian queer creators and Indian queer media audiences.

The Challenges for Creators

Since the Indian media industry is not a big monolith and is made up of multiple film industries, queer creators who are trying to get their foot in the door will face a unique uphill battle in whichever regional industry they’re trying to break into. And trying to research, learn, and understand each and every single one of them will take me and my non-existent research team years, so the simpler thing to do would be listing the factors that have worked for other countries to foster their media industries to produce QL content, and discuss if India could replicate them. The list goes like this:

Japan’s rich history in yaoi

Thailand’s use of BL as a soft power to promote tourism

Korea’s culture export via kpop and other media

While India does have religious mythology that discusses sex, gender and queerness, it is often subtext with a lot of intersectionality. Does Ardhanarishvara represent fluid gender, or a symbol of harmony, or both? The debates are endless. Japan’s yaoi roots are as deep as they are explicit. And this rich history could be why the Japanese domestic audience is open to queer media even when the country is still conservative.

Thailand’s rise as a major player in the QL industry is remarkable, but there is a case to be made that the country’s media industry was directly and indirectly boosted by the government’s interest in establishing revenue from tourism, and exporting culture to international audiences via food and media. While the revenue from tourism in India is substantial, the Indian economy is not built on it. And the Indian media industry is thriving and regularly makes bank with their already established content models, so the producers have a pretty low incentive to deviate and fund queer media.

I bet every coin I own that not a single one of us on this hellsite have successfully eluded the allure of Korean media in our lives. The Korean media industry is a well-calibrated machine that shall and will target every single human into funneling their time, attention and money into the Korean culture and economy. And I think queer creators looking to make queer content in Korea would’ve had good incubation in an industry that was looking to make as much content as possible. And once again, while Indian movies have significant international box office collections, that is not where the Indian media industry, and just India in general, makes its money. The priorities are just not the same. And to be perfectly honest, India is nowhere near the level of Korea at producing and exporting television shows to international audiences.

All of this is a long winded way of saying that the conditions required to foster a QL industry in India are not the same as what we have seen work so far from the other major players. And sadly no one has really figured out the winning formula yet.

These are just a few reasons, and I haven’t even discussed nepotism and how painful class mobility is in India, making it even harder for new queer creators to break into the industry. There’s a reason why movies with queer representation like Badhaai Do, Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan, Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga, and Kapoor & Sons all feature characters in the upper middle class or above. Hell, they’re even played by actors whose portfolio is already filled with daring and experimental roles, or by first- or second-gen nepo babies who would literally have nothing to lose from the potential backlash for playing a queer character. Poor, queer characters in Indian media have never been a part of a fluffy romance as far as I know. They are reserved for the gritty dramas where intersectionality of queerness, poverty, class and caste could be examined.

The Challenges for the Audience

And once again, all of this, *aggressively waves hands*, makes things harder for even the domestic audience to engage with Indian queer media, let alone international audiences. Kathaal - The Core, a 2023 Malayalam movie about a queer man in his fifties coming out of the closet and contesting in his village body elections, was a box office success in Kerala, and I can tell y’all with complete certainty that not many people outside of Kerala would’ve even heard of it. And this was not some small indie venture – in fact, the lead characters were played by Mammootty and Jyothika, who are both absolute legends in their own right in the South Indian film industry.

Super Deluxe was a 2019 Tamil-language black comedy film that tells four interwoven stories that run in parallel, and one of the stories is about a trans woman who, pre-transition, was married and had a son. She returns to her family as her post-transition self after years of disappearance, and the film engages in conversation around sex and gender, through the innocent questions of her young son. The movie is gorgeously made, and outrageously sharp and witty in its commentary on society’s views on sex, morality, religion and family. And once again, I don’t think it is well-known outside of the domestic and international award-circuit audiences it was promoted to (last I checked, it was available to domestic audiences on Netflix).

Sometimes, even the domestic audience might miss the queer representation in their regional media when it is indie enough to not get aggressively promoted. The Hindi-language anthology movie from Netflix, Ajeeb Daastaans (2021), featured a story where two women from different caste and social class meet at the workplace (the sapphic story, Geeli Pucchi, starts at 1:17:05, if anyone wants to check it out). It served biting commentary on the intersectionality of queerness, misogyny, caste and class. And once again, I’ve never found a person with whom I could discuss it with (other than my mom, with whom I watched it).

And sometimes, even when a massive show with queer representation is well promoted and well received by critics, it still manages to fly under the radar in Indian queer fandom spaces. Amazon Prime India spent a lot of coin on the show Made in Heaven (2019) – and it was worth it. The show follows the lives of two wedding planners, Tara and Karan. Karan is closeted (except to his close friends) for most of the show, but after he makes some powerful enemies in his line of work, he gets publicly outed, which puts him on the path of dealing with his family’s shades of acceptance, queer rights activism, and reconciling with an old friend. The car scene in episode 9 made me cry, and yet I’ve never read a word about this show from Indian QL fan blogs here on Tumblr.

Following every film and TV show that releases in one language, across all modes and platforms, and keeping an eye out for queer representation is hard enough. Doing it in multiple languages is downright impossible. And then personal preferences come into play. Personally, I enjoy nearly all genres of media, but I am primarily an angst monster, so I seek out and watch sad shit on the regular. All four examples I’ve listed in this section are good queer representations, but they are deeply sad, rage-inducing, heartbreaking and realistic. If one wanted to watch an Indian queer romance that’s inside the bubble, I’m not sure if they can even find one – I have certainly not come across any. Even the queer Bollywood movies designed for a box office run, paying homage to iconic Bollywood romance sequences, were still outside the bubble. When a niche audience like the QL fandom collides with a complex media-churning machine like the Indian media industry that is fundamentally not designed to cater to them, all we get is a lot of puzzled looks and question marks.

A Thought Experiment On The Future Of Indian QLs

Now that I have established the challenges, I want to engage in a little thought experiment – if we were to receive a steady stream of Indian QL content, what would it look like, and how can the fandom engage with it?

If we are looking for content from a stable production entity for Indian queer media, like Thailand’s GMMTV, Japan’s MBS Drama Shower, and Korea’s Strongberry, we would be waiting for a long time, at the very least a decade or two. What we could get are small indie queer shows like Romil and Jugal, squirreled away in a streaming platform exclusive to India and only accessible internationally via VPN. Another example is the list of sapphic shows @twig-tea shared with us a while ago, here. These are gonna be low budget, probably-not-great-quality shows reminiscent of early GMMTV.

Another variety of QL content we could get are the Bollywood queer romance films and TV shows. They will be cheesy and tropey and romantic, and might interact with the bubble, but probably mostly from the safety of an upper middle class setting. This means they would eventually run out of fresh perspectives they could tune into in their limited scope and the stories might turn stale and repetitive (I’m deriving this from the general state of things in the Indian media landscape over the last couple years). International access might be a little easier than the previous case, but not as easy as going to YouTube and hitting play.

The third and final variety are the gritty dramas with heavy social, cultural, religious, gender and class commentary that Indian cinema industry has always made, and has upgraded in the recent years to include queerness. Once again, the access will be hard, but if we are looking for queer stories that also show the audience what it is like being queer in India, beyond the glitz, the glam and the colors of pre-packaged Indian experience often sold to the West, this is where we will find it. Most of it will be sad, but we are a sad bunch who constantly make sad shit, so it will be on brand for us.

And all of these different varieties of content are gonna need to be picked up and promoted by the Indian folks in the QL fandom who are tuned into these regional industries. India not being a cultural monolith that is easy to package and ship is precisely why we have all these beautiful and crazy and sometimes even contradictory styles of media that are offered for us to explore. And therefore, the fandom engagement on Indian QL content would also vastly differ from the fandom engagement for Japan, Thailand and Korea. A dedicated fandom captain might not emerge, but rather, a collective group of folks tuning into and promoting finds from their regional industries would be the way to go. In addition, if this content is not available in English, we would need fan subbers to provide translation expertise to even make it accessible, something we see often for Japanese media on Tumblr.

I know from observation that watching media in a different regional language could sometimes be as foreign to Indian audiences as watching media from other countries. The language, traditions, mannerisms, social mores and food would all be different from region to region, but I guess it would be a good litmus test to observe how well the fandom acclimates to a culture that is so eye-wateringly diverse and not as constantly promoted to them.

When I was texting @waitmyturtles discussing how we can approach answering this question (remember when this all started with a question, some two thousand-ish words ago? Yes, that question), at a point in our conversation I exclaimed "Ugh, everything in India is too complicated!" This long-ass post of mine is in no way the complete account of why things are the way they are in the Indian queer media landscape. But all I know for sure is that it’s not simple. And I really do not want anything related to India to be simple, because being unbearably frustrating and complicated is not a bug, but a feature of India. The road to Indian QLs is unique, but I will do my best to check the paths and share and recommend them to my friends whenever possible. And I invite my fellow Indian QL fans to do the same.

[domm1etae]

sent to tempt me - chapter sixteen

chapter sixteen: trying to test the waters

chapter summary: After an awkward but warm moment of tending to Mingi’s wounds, Yunho gets his first small taste of confidence—only for Mingi to flip the script with an unexpected question about....roleplay?

pairing: yunho x mingi

genre: smut (not yet but there will be eventually), angst, fluff, romance, m/m, non!idol!ateez, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, drama, coming of age, collage, religion

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually) | mdni

word count: 2.1k

warnings under

collage, roommates, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, bad boy mingi and religious church good boy yunho, same-sex attraction, m/m, teasing, dark themes, homophobia, self discovery, pet names, strangers to lovers, religion and religious topics, aaaand more will be added soon hehehe

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3 | this fics masterlist

author's note: uuuum so this came out 6 days ago already but i forgot to post it here on tmblr.... don't hate me guys i am so sorry

anyywaaays, i am already working on chapter 17 sooo that is coming very sooooon my loves

Yunho finally stepped out of the bathroom, freshly washed, his hair still slightly damp and sticking to his forehead in uneven strands. His skin was warm from the lingering heat of the shower, and he had gone through his entire routine—lotion, toner, everything—yet somehow, he still didn’t feel fully prepared for this. He swallowed, gripping the first aid kit a little tighter in his hands as he slowly made his way toward the living room.

Mingi was still lounging on the couch, one arm lazily draped over the backrest while his other hand held his phone. The soft glow of the TV flickered across his face, and Yunho noticed that at some point, Mingi had turned on the lamp beside the couch, casting a warmer, more intimate atmosphere over the room. It made everything feel smaller, quieter.

The second Mingi noticed Yunho approaching, he let out a low chuckle, his lips curling into that same teasing smirk that always made Yunho’s stomach twist into nervous knots.

“You really took your time in there,” Mingi mused, glancing him up and down before turning back to his phone. “You must be all relaxed now.”

The teasing lilt in his voice made Yunho grip the first aid kit even harder. Relaxed? Yeah, right. He barely survived that shower without overthinking himself into an early grave.

He tried to stay calm, but his body betrayed him, his fingers fidgeting slightly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His gaze flickered toward Mingi before quickly darting away again.

Focus, Yunho. You need to bite back… somehow.

But before he could say anything, Mingi tilted his head and continued, completely unfazed by Yunho’s nervous energy.

“Do you enjoy long showers?”

Yunho’s breath hitched slightly at the sudden question, his brain short-circuiting for a split second before he forced himself to respond.

“Yeah,” he said, a little too softly, cheeks already warming up. “When I need them, I do.”

Mingi hummed in approval, his smirk widening like he had Yunho exactly where he wanted him.

“What about you?” Yunho asked quickly, trying to shift the attention away from himself.

“Yeah, it’s good to let out some steam sometimes,” Mingi admitted, stretching his arms above his head before letting them drop lazily back down. “Best when no one’s around, and I can blast music at full volume and sing my heart out in the shower.”

Yunho couldn’t help but laugh at that, the mental image of Mingi dramatically singing in the shower popping into his head before he could stop it. The sound must’ve caught Mingi’s attention because he turned to face him fully now, his expression shifting slightly.

“Why are you just standing there?” Mingi asked, raising an eyebrow. “Come and sit. I don’t think we can do this while you’re hovering like a lost puppy.”

Yunho blinked, suddenly remembering why he had even come out here in the first place.

“Ah—sorry,” he mumbled, moving toward the couch and placing the first aid kit on the table, his hands still just a little too tense.

Mingi was still watching him closely, but Yunho did his best to ignore it. He needed to get through this without completely losing his mind.

Yunho busied himself with preparing the supplies, carefully opening the first aid kit and laying out what he needed. His hands were steady now—finally—but his heart was still beating a little too fast in his chest.

“So…” He cleared his throat, glancing at Mingi. “Where do you wanna start?”

Mingi barely thought about it. “My face.”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, and Mingi shrugged. “Doesn’t matter where you start, it’s gonna hurt anyway.” He grinned. “Might as well get it over with.”

“I’ll try to make it as painless as I can, I promise,” Yunho assured him, already reaching for the antiseptic.

Mingi tilted his head dramatically. “If not, I’ll cry. And you don’t want that.”

Yunho blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Mingi laughed. “I’m just kidding. I don’t cry.” He paused for effect. “Except when it comes to pet videos. I can’t watch those, or I’ll bawl my eyes out for a good thirty minutes.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like it was a secret. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Yunho found himself chuckling, shaking his head as he lifted a hand and mimed locking his mouth with a key. The gesture made Mingi snicker, and for the first time that night, Yunho felt himself relax just a little.

With the mood lighter now, he got to work, moving to sit beside Mingi so he could reach his face properly. The cut on Mingi’s eyebrow was healing well—not too deep, not too swollen anymore.

“This looks good,” Yunho murmured, carefully dabbing at the wound. “Actually… I’d say it’s healing really fast.”

Mingi smirked. “Probably a good doctor.”

Yunho’s brain immediately short-circuited.

What?

Why did he say that so casually? Did he have any idea what he was doing? Did he know that Yunho was actually insane? That he couldn’t handle comments like that without spiraling?

Yunho didn’t respond at first, his fingers freezing in place while his whole face went up in flames. His ears burned, and his grip on the cotton pad tightened just a little.

Mingi was looking at him, waiting for a reaction. Yunho could feel it.

After what felt like an eternity, he swallowed, forcing himself to focus on the wound again.

And then, finally, he mumbled under his breath, just barely audible—

“…Yeah. That’s probably why.”

“All done with your eyebrow,” Yunho announced softly, carefully setting aside the used cotton pads and antiseptic wipes. He exhaled, relieved to be past the first part without embarrassing himself too much.

But before he could fully relax, Mingi struck again.

“So…” Mingi hummed, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “Do I get a reward after this appointment, Mister Doctor?” He shot Yunho a playful look. “Perhaps a lollipop?”

Yunho froze.

Oh.

Oh, of course. Of course Mingi had to throw in another tease, another casual, flirty remark that Yunho had no clue how to deal with. It was like Mingi was genetically programmed to make Yunho’s brain short-circuit at any given moment.

For a split second, Yunho considered doing what he always did—blushing, stammering, pretending he didn’t hear it, letting Mingi win yet again.

But… no.

Not this time.

Yunho had spent the last twenty minutes psyching himself up, telling himself that he needed to fight back, that he couldn’t keep letting Mingi walk all over him like this. He was already nervous as hell, but if he was ever going to take a shot at teasing back, now was the perfect opportunity.

Before he could overthink it—before his rational brain could slam the emergency brakes—his mouth was already moving.

“If you’re a good boy and behave,” Yunho said smoothly, grabbing a fresh antiseptic wipe, “then maybe.”

Silence.

A deep silence.

Oh. Oh no. What did he just—

Did he really just say that?

Did he, Jeong Yunho, actually just say those words out loud, in his actual real voice, to Song Mingi?

His heart practically threw itself against his ribs, and his ears burned so hot that he was surprised they weren’t catching fire. But it was too late to take it back now. The words were out there, hanging in the air between them.

And Mingi—Mingi wasn’t saying anything.

Nothing.

No comeback, no playful teasing, no witty one-liner.

That alone sent Yunho into another downward spiral.

Why wasn’t Mingi saying anything? Was he—was he actually stunned? Did Yunho break him?

Wait—did he win?

Slowly, cautiously, Yunho turned around, antiseptic wipe in hand, facing Mingi so he could continue treating his lip wound. But this time, there was something different in the air.

Mingi’s expression wasn’t as easy to read as before. His lips were slightly parted, as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what. His eyes—dark, amused, surprised—were locked onto Yunho’s face in a way that made Yunho’s stomach tighten.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Yunho felt his own breath catch in his throat, but he forced himself to keep moving, to focus on the task at hand. He was not going to back down now—not when he’d finally, finally managed to catch Mingi off guard.

Trying to keep his hands steady, he leaned in, gently reaching out to hold Mingi’s chin between his fingers.

“Stay still,” Yunho mumbled, eyes flickering to Mingi’s lips.

Mingi didn’t move.

Didn’t even breathe.

And for the first time ever, Yunho thought that maybe, just maybe, he had the upper hand.

Even if it was just for a second.

Before Yunho could even begin tending to Mingi’s lip, he made the mistake of glancing up—just for a second—to check on him.

And that was all it took.

Because Mingi was already looking at him.

Not just looking—watching.

Yunho barely had a moment to process it before, right before his eyes, the biggest, most shit-eating smirk spread across Mingi’s face.

Yunho felt the power he’d just barely grasped slip through his fingers like sand.

Mingi tried to speak, but with Yunho still holding his jaw, it came out slightly muffled. That didn’t stop him, though. Of course it didn’t.

“Damn, man,” Mingi drawled, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You have game.”

Yunho’s stomach plummeted.

“I wasn’t expecting that at all from a little church boy like you,” Mingi continued, words slurred slightly from Yunho’s grip. And just to add insult to injury, his free hand reached up and patted Yunho’s shoulder like he was proud of him.

Yunho short-circuited on the spot.

His confidence—his hard-won, short-lived, barely existing confidence—vanished in a blink.

“Oh—oh no, no, not at all,” he stammered, his entire body locking up. His hand flew off Mingi’s jaw as if he’d been burned. “I—I'm so sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what got into me—”

He felt himself start to shake, his fingers twitching against his thighs, his heart pounding as fear slithered up his spine. He had messed up. He had gotten too bold, too careless, and now—

Mingi only laughed.

Not a mocking laugh, not a cruel one, but a warm, genuine, lighthearted one, his eyes scrunching up as he grinned at Yunho.

“Dude,” Mingi said, still chuckling, “you don’t have to apologize for showing me your true self.”

Yunho rapidly shook his head, his whole face burning.

“No, no, I—I really shouldn’t have said that, this is not at all like me, that was really rude of me—”

Mingi just waved a hand dismissively, completely unfazed, as if Yunho hadn’t just had a near mental breakdown over one sentence. He even tilted his chin slightly, waiting patiently for Yunho to get back to cleaning his lip wound.

Yunho swallowed hard, forcing himself to move, to at least try and salvage what was left of his dignity. He grabbed another antiseptic wipe, leaned in slightly—

And, because fate was cruel, Mingi decided now was the perfect time to speak again.

“So,” Mingi drawled, his smirk back in full force, “are you, like, into roleplay or something?”

“Ugh—what?” Yunho blinked, his brain lagging hard.

Mingi quirked an eyebrow. “Should I repeat the question?”

“No, no! I heard you well,” Yunho rushed out. “But… what is roleplay?”

Mingi just stared at him.

Expression blank.

Unmoving.

And then—

Laughter.

Loud, uncontrollable, genuine laughter burst from his lips as he leaned back slightly, clutching at his stomach.

“Oh my God,” Mingi wheezed between laughs. “You really fooled me with the way you were talking earlier—”

Yunho’s entire body tensed.

“—but it turns out you actually are just a poor little innocent church boy, huh?”

Yunho bristled.

He knew Mingi wasn’t trying to be mean. The fond look in his eyes, the amused curve of his lips, the way he gazed at Yunho like he was something precious—

That was the problem.

Yunho didn’t want to be treated like some fragile little baby.

He was an adult.

Maybe he wasn’t the most experienced in some areas, maybe he hadn’t had the same exposure to things that other guys had, but that didn’t mean people could just laugh at him like this.

His pride flared up, and before he could stop himself, he straightened his back, brow furrowed.

“No, wait, hold up,” he said quickly. “Does it have something to do with acting?”

Mingi’s laughter softened into a chuckle. “Huh?”

“Well… the word roleplay kind of sounds like an acting thing,” Yunho explained. “Like playing a role?”

Mingi let out a thoughtful hum, tilting his head.

“Well, you could put it that way,” he admitted, a teasing glint in his eye. “What we did back there—” he gestured vaguely toward Yunho’s earlier moment of boldness “—was something like the beginning of a roleplay.”

Yunho blinked. “That’s why you asked if I liked it?”

Mingi grinned. “Yup.”

Yunho frowned slightly.

“But you said it’s something like that… so it’s not the actual thing?”

Mingi didn’t respond right away.

Instead, he tilted his head, gaze darkening just slightly, before slowly leaning in closer.

A slow, playful smile spread across his face.

“Want me to show you?”

previous chapter | next chapter

[utilitycaster]

In thinking about the new information we've recently learned about the gods of Exandria, I started thinking about epic fantasy novels. The thing is, Exandria's deity lore is not actually terribly unique. This isn't a bad thing! But the idea of an idyllic age when gods were not just powerful but present and united; the fall of one (or many) gods and an ensuing devastation this causes; and the gods subsequently withdrawing or diminishing is a very, very common one in fantasy (and, to be totally honest, world religion). Similarly, the idea of a much more advanced age that has since passed into distant memory is also an extremely common trope. I think it's less common to have both of these tropes working in tandem though certainly not unheard of (hello, Wheel of Time), and the nature of the storytelling method in effect here means that the fallen advanced civilization is more thoroughly developed in the worldbuilding than it is in many other stories, but none of this is a wildly new concept.

I want to talk about genre, medium, and actual play, which is sort of both and sort of neither. I think people talking about actual play tend to mash all three of these things together when they really shouldn't.

(this is a long one so it's under a cut to not wreck your dash)

The genre of Critical Role's main campaigns is heroic fantasy, which I know I've covered in the past, and of epic scale. This is honestly pretty typical of D&D. NADDPod (especially Bahumia) and TAZ Balance and Graduation are also arguably within this same broad genre, just more comedic and looser with aspects of the worldbuilding.

Despite the fact that Brennan is very well-versed in fantasy novels, D20's main deal is that it's not classic heroic fantasy. I think this is actually a bigger factor in why people prefer CR to D20 than many people think. The shorter length is definitely another factor (though that too feels almost related - the critically acclaimed indie comic run to Critical Role's series of doorstopper novels) but Dimension 20, while it comments on classic heroic fantasy with Fantasy High and Escape from the Bloodkeep, only ever dips into anything actually approaching that genre with the Game of Thrones-inspired low fantasy seasons and, funnily enough, with the Dungeons and Drag Queens miniseries. Otherwise, it's telling school stories, urban fantasy, space operas, heists, murder mysteries, comedies of manners, and action-adventure. Similarly, TAZ Steeplechase and Amnesty very much aren't of this genre. Critical Role meanwhile touches on supernatural horror with Candela Obscura.

Actual Play is a means of telling a story, and typically the system at least puts in place the general expectations of what can be done within the improv. Some systems (such as Candela Obscura or Blades in the Dark) set a particular genre; others, like D&D, favor one but permit a good degree of flexibility. Actual Play is not really the same as genre, as discussed above; D20 genre hops quite readily, as does The Adventure Zone, even while using the same TTRPG systems.

Finally, there's medium. This one is easy. Critical Role and D20 are filmed shows (though are available as podcasts); so is, to give a non-Actual Play example, The Bear. NADDPod and TAZ are podcasts. So are (for example) The Silt Verses and Midst.

The reason I've outlined all of the above is to say that I think people tend to assume simply being actual play is somehow closer than sharing genre. This is also to an extent true for longform fiction podcasts (though it is less true for TV and books). I think this has led to an influx of fans of actual play (and, tbh, podcasts) who aren't familiar with the genres within which actual play shows are working.

I do not say this to gatekeep (though honestly, gatekeeping is both not inherently bad and also, not possible in this context). It's more of an exploration of what I think may be a reason why, particularly in the Critical Role fandom, it feels some of the Campaign 3 opinions feel somewhat half-baked.

You can be a fan of heroic fantasy and enjoy actual play but not actually be terribly into actual play that isn't heroic fantasy. I think some people who loved Critical Role Campaign 1 but nothing after that and no other actual play fit into that category. I think Campaign 1's fandom was, indeed, heavily skewed towards fans of fantasy and fans of D&D (as a venue to roleplay one's own fantasy story and as a game itself heavily shaped by heroic fantasy fiction) more so than anything else. If you like, say, The Kingkiller Chronicles or the Stormlight Archives or the Wheel of Time or Lord of the Rings? You might like Critical Role.

By 2018, and definitely by 2019-2020, the landscape had changed, and the attitude was much more one of "if you like this actual play, you'll like this one" which is actually...nowhere near as true, in my mind, as recommendations based on genre. I think this is also when people started folding in "longform speculative fiction podcasts in general" which to be honest was already an issue with the medium of longform fiction podcasts. Wolf 359, The Silt Verses, Midst, The Penumbra Podcast, and any season of NADDPod are all longform, plot-based speculative fiction podcasts with queer representation, but that doesn't actually mean someone who likes one will like another. (Also? Queer rep? Gets treated like podcasts or actual play, to be honest. It's extremely possible to love only one of The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand, The Woods All Black, and The Priory of the Orange Tree despite all of these being novels with queer relationships, yet a lot of the time Queer Rep is treated as a genre, an "if you like this, you'll like that!")

I think it is true that there are people who enjoy actual play on a fairly general level (myself included), and with podcasts especially I think there are people who enjoy fiction delivered in this manner and people who have some difficulty with it. But I think there's a tendency to push people who like one actual play towards other actual play when they may be more interested in longform audio fiction, scripted or not; or might be inclined towards a particular genre. To go back to the examples I've given, someone who likes Candela Obscura might find The Silt Verses and The Woods All Black more appealing than, for example, Fantasy High, despite that also being filmed actual play, because the latter two are also supernatural horror with exploration of class.

Because actual play, in its weird not a medium, not a genre, but kind of both space is, well, in between spaces, it gets treated as the most specific element of works of fiction when that's not always true. The consequences, therefore, end up being twofold. You get people who come to AP series because they liked another one that doesn't actually have a ton in common, and it ends up hit or miss (this is one of my theories why the D20 fandom can be extremely weird about Critical Role; because it was pushed on them when it's really not what they're into, which is neither their nor CR's fault); and you get people coming to specific actual plays and enjoying them without much familiarity with their genres, which I think is behind some of the weirder C3 takes since C3 is arguably the first campaign that truly began after Actual Play began to be treated as a genre.

[racefortheironthrone]

Was the Comics Code as bad as the Hays Code?

That's a really good question!

I suppose it depends on what you mean by "as bad" - are we talking about the overall impact of the Code on American pop culture or are we talking about the actual content of the Code and what it banned and/or mandated in terms of artistic expression?

I've written a little bit about the Hays Code here, but my main focus was on subtextual judaism in Hollywood generally rather than what the Code was and what its impact on American cinema was.

So what did the Hays Code actually include?

One of the few positive things you can say about it is that the men who devised it were quite clear and forthright about what would and wouldn't be allowed, in comparison to the vagueness and inconsistency of the modern MPAA. So here's the list of what couldn't be shown:

Pointed profanity—by either title or lip—this includes the words God, Lord, Jesus, Christ (unless they be used reverently in connection with proper religious ceremonies), Hell, S.O.B., damn, Gawd, and every other profane and vulgar expression however it may be spelled; (You'll notice that the Code is very much a snapshot of the transition from silent movies to "talkies," with the discussion of how profanity is spelled as well as produced via "lip.")

Any licentious or suggestive nudity—in fact or in silhouette; and any lecherous or licentious notice thereof by other characters in the picture;

The illegal traffic in drugs;

Any inference of sex perversion; (i.e anything having to do with LGBT+ people and culture. For more on the impact of the Hays Code on the LGBT+ community, see the excellent documentary the Celluloid Closet.)

White slavery; (the 1920s version of sex trafficking, but with added racism!)

Miscegenation;

Sex hygiene and venereal diseases;

Scenes of actual childbirth—in fact or in silhouette;

Children's sex organs;

Ridicule of the clergy;

Willful offense to any nation, race or creed; and (this one was really honored in the breach more than the observance when it came to nations, races, and creeds of non-dominant groups in society.)

The following things could be shown, but "special care be exercised in the manner in which the following subjects are treated, to the end that vulgarity and suggestiveness may be eliminated and that good taste may be emphasized:"

The use of the Flag;

International Relations (avoid picturizing in an unfavorable light another country's religion, history, institutions, prominent people and citizenry); (again, depended a lot on what country you're talking about.)

Arson;

The use of firearms;

Theft, robbery, safe-cracking, and dynamiting of trains, mines, buildings, et cetera (having in mind the effect which a too-detailed description of these may have upon the moron); (I guess the idea was that the MPPDA believed very strongly in the idea that media could affect people's behavior through imitation, but the use of the word "moron" gives me eugenics vibes.)

Brutality and possible gruesomeness;

Technique of committing murder by whatever method;

Methods of smuggling;

Third-Degree methods; (i.e, torture)

Actual hangings or electrocutions as legal punishment for crime; Sympathy for criminals; (this was a big one; Hollywood had done very well from gangster films, so a lot of creators had to do some careful threading of the needle to keep the genre alive. One dodge that they came up with was that they would have a duplicate "final reel" in which the gangster would have their inevitable comeuppance, and then remove the final reel when the censors had left the theater. Very popular with white rural teens.) Attitude toward public characters and institutions; (again, Hollywood shifting from being anti- to pro-establishment.)

Sedition;

Apparent cruelty to children and animals;

Branding of people or animals;

The sale of women, or of a woman selling her virtue;

Rape or attempted rape;

First-night scenes; (i.e, wedding nights)

Man and woman in bed together; (hence the eventual TV practice of showing married couples in separate beds in the 50s)

Deliberate seduction of girls;

The institution of marriage;

Surgical operations;

The use of drugs;

Titles or scenes having to do with law enforcement or law-enforcing officers;

Excessive or lustful kissing, particularly when one character or the other is a "heavy".

So in general, we can say that the Hays Code was extremely sex-negative, very concerned about crime and anti-establishment thinking, sexist, racist, and homophobic, and in general afraid of offending anybody.

So what about the Comics Code Authority?

So this is what the Comics Code looked like in 1954:

Crimes shall never be presented in such a way as to create sympathy for the criminal, to promote distrust of the forces of law and justice, or to inspire others with a desire to imitate criminals. If crime is depicted it shall be as a sordid and unpleasant activity.

Policemen, judges, government officials, and respected institutions shall never be presented in such a way as to create disrespect for established authority.

Criminals shall not be presented so as to be rendered glamorous or to occupy a position which creates a desire for emulation. In every instance good shall triumph over evil and the criminal punished for his misdeeds.

Scenes of excessive violence shall be prohibited. Scenes of brutal torture, excessive and unnecessary knife and gunplay, physical agony, the gory and gruesome crime shall be eliminated.

No comic magazine shall use the words "horror" or "terror" in its title.

All scenes of horror, excessive bloodshed, gory or gruesome crimes, depravity, lust, sadism, masochism shall not be permitted.

All lurid, unsavory, gruesome illustrations shall be eliminated. Inclusion of stories dealing with evil shall be used or shall be published only where the intent is to illustrate a moral issue and in no case shall evil be presented alluringly, nor so as to injure the sensibilities of the reader.

Scenes dealing with, or instruments associated with walking dead, torture, vampires and vampirism, ghouls, cannibalism, and werewolfism are prohibited.

Profanity, obscenity, smut, vulgarity, or words or symbols which have acquired undesirable meanings are forbidden.

Nudity in any form is prohibited, as is indecent or undue exposure. Suggestive and salacious illustration or suggestive posture is unacceptable.

Females shall be drawn realistically without exaggeration of any physical qualities.

Illicit sex relations are neither to be hinted at nor portrayed. Rape scenes, as well as sexual abnormalities, are unacceptable.

Seduction and rape shall never be shown or suggested.

Sex perversion or any inference to same is strictly forbidden.

Nudity with meretricious purpose and salacious postures shall not be permitted in the advertising of any product; clothed figures shall never be presented in such a way as to be offensive or contrary to good taste or morals.[16]

You'll notice the similarities when it comes to the Codes' attitude to sex, sexuality, crime, and symbols of authority - so to answer the first part of your question, I would say the CCA was pretty similar to the Hays Code (in part because Charles F. Murphy, who drew it up, was deeply unoriginal and basically cribbed off the Hays Code throughout).

However, there are also some significant areas of difference that have a lot to do with the unique circumstances of the 1950s moral panic over comics. See, in the 1950s, superhero comics were considered deeply uncool and old hat - they had been huge in the 40s during the war, but by the 50s the biggest genre in comics were horror, crime, and romance comics (with cowboy comics bringing up the rear). To quote myself from another post:

"This gave rise to a moral panic in the 1950s, although more accurately it was part of the larger moral panic over juvenile delinquency. The U.S Senate established a Juvenile Delinquency Subcommittee of the Judiciary Committee in 1953 to investigate the causes of juvenile delinquency and comics became a major target. While Wertham’s book is best known today for its assertions that Batman and Robin were teaching young boys to be gay and Wonder Woman was teaching young girls to be lesbians, the main focus of the Subcommittee [edit mine: and Wertham's academic work] was on horror and crime comics for their depiction of sex, violence, and “subversive” attitudes to law and order."

The CCA made it impossible to publish two of the most popular genres in the industry for a generation (the CCA relaxed its stance on horror stuff a bit in the 70s, which is why Marvel trend-chased werewolves and vampires the moment they could get away with it), which not only scrambled the medium (and potentially created space for the Silver Age of superhero comics to flourish) but drove the former titan EC Comics practically out of business. (Indeed, William Gaines of EC Comics believed that the CCA had been specifically worded to drive him out of business.)

So in some ways, the CCA was worse.

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

Writing this on my phone at work so a lil jumbled but one of the things that really does make Macdennis one of the greatest will-they-won't-theys in tv history and why it doesn't annoy me they haven't gotten together yet even this far in when I would usually be pulling out my hair in other cases much earlier on is that it doesn't fall into a lot of the common pitfalls of the genre because in most shows, you *know* the characters are going to be together from the start and they don't actually have a solid reason why it can't happen sooner, other than they need to drag it out for the show, so rather than use the tools they have and naturally play off the existing tension between characters, they almost always feel the need to throw in arbitrary, extraneous, and often frustrating external obstacles instead, like a series of random cardboard cutout boyfriends/girlfriends/wrong place/wrong times that last entire arcs over and over again for the *sole purpose* of keeping them apart and being like not yet tee hee, to the point where you're just like okay, okay, get on with it, already, but with Sunny, almost every obstacle is *internal* (or based on already built in external factors that affect them internally and haven't just been fabricated on the spot to create problems in the relationship): Mac's struggles with his sexuality and religion, both their parents' intense homophobia and neglect, Dennis' past experience of being sexually assaulted, and his fear of being perceived as anything less than perfect in a society he's learned he has to hide from/always be stealthy in, lest you be taken advantage of or hurt, in general that societal expectation, you will get married to a woman (Maureen), start a family, live a "normal" nuclear life, that's how the story goes, etc. etc. not to mention the culture of the time the show itself first aired, network tv of 2005, they didn't start with this endgame in mind, practically unheard of that they would ever get together in any official capacity even if they did, so they were able to grow separately from each other before starting to grow together, naturally inclined toward each other, yet just as naturally held back by themselves and the world that made them this way. But eventually... they outlived that world, and after being so used to standing still, now they're struggling to keep up, to find themselves, to find their place in an environment they no longer recognize, and to reconcile the fact that maybe they don't have to hide anymore, maybe they don't have to be miserable, to run away, it's okay it's okay, but it was not okay for so long, they need time. And I'll get into the parallels more another time because I'm obsessed with them, but in Waiting for Godot (and in turn Big Mo), there's the theme of "The whole world changes, only we can't," but Mac comes out, Dennis claims back his heart, Big Mo shows up, so maybe they can maybe they can, and that change is necessary before anything else can move forward. And god, do I have a lot more to say on *that* topic and theme of change, but I'm saving it for a full essay, god willing🤞

[the-most-humble-blog]

The Day I Learned Wrestling Wasn’t Fake: Papa Shango, the Ultimate Warrior, and a Horrified 8-Year-Old Me

When Your Parents Say Wrestling is Fake, but Papa Shango Starts Casting Spells on National TV

Let’s go back to a simpler time: the early 1990s. A time when wrestling wasn’t just a sport—it was a religion, a soap opera, and a live-action cartoon rolled into one. Back then, I thought wrestling was real, and I’d fistfight anyone who dared say otherwise. But even as my parents whispered the dreaded phrase, “You know wrestling is fake, right?” Papa Shango hit the screen, proving that nothing about wrestling was fake—especially not the dark magic.

And then came the night when the voodoo priest himself, Papa Shango, cast spells on The Ultimate Warrior. Spells. On live TV. And my 8-year-old self? Absolutely traumatized.

1. The Night Wrestling Became Real

I still remember it like it was yesterday. There was the Ultimate Warrior, the unstoppable, face-painted demigod who could shake the ropes with the energy of a caffeinated tiger. He wasn’t just a wrestler—he was a superhero. And then Papa Shango showed up.

This guy wasn’t just a bad guy; he was a whole villain genre. Voodoo beads, a skull staff, and face paint that screamed “your nightmares just got a new mascot.” He started mumbling incantations, and suddenly the Warrior—my Warrior—was doubled over, leaking black goo from his head like an exorcism gone wrong.

Kid Logic: “This can’t be fake. Black goo doesn’t lie.”

2. The Harlem Shake Heard Around the World

And then came the shake. Not the cool kind, like Michael Jackson’s moonwalk, but the kind you do when your body is 90% terrified and 10% possessed. The Ultimate Warrior started jerking around like he’d been cursed by a voodoo god, and I was losing it.

Kid Thought: “If Papa Shango can do this to the Warrior, what chance do I have?!”

That night, I slept with a light on—and my Ultimate Warrior action figure under my pillow, just in case Papa Shango decided to pay me a visit.

3. The Parents’ Betrayal

After the episode, my parents tried to comfort me. “It’s all fake,” they said, trying to sound calm.

Fake?! Did they see the goo? The convulsions? Fake was when the Road Runner dropped an anvil on Wile E. Coyote. This wasn’t fake. This was Papa Shango manifesting real voodoo chaos on national TV.

When you’re 8, logic is irrelevant. If you see it on TV, it’s real. End of discussion.

4. Wrestling’s Commitment to the Bit

Looking back, you have to respect the lengths the WWE (then WWF) went to make these storylines work. Papa Shango wasn’t just a wrestler; he was a whole mood.

The Props: The skull staff? Iconic. The fake black goo? Disturbingly convincing.

The Acting: The Ultimate Warrior deserved an Oscar for that performance. Seriously, someone put that man in a horror film.

The Audience Manipulation: They didn’t just want you to watch; they wanted you to believe. And believe I did.

5. The Day Wrestling Broke My Heart

Of course, as I got older, the illusion started to crack. The spellcasting? Special effects. The goo? Probably corn syrup mixed with food coloring. And Papa Shango? Just a guy named Charles Wright, who would later become The Godfather, trading voodoo for a pimp gimmick.

But here’s the thing: even when you know it’s scripted, it doesn’t matter. Wrestling isn’t about reality; it’s about the spectacle. It’s about suspending disbelief just long enough to let a voodoo priest scare the hell out of an 8-year-old and make millions of people talk about it decades later.

6. Why Wrestling Was—and Is—Magic

Even now, as a full-grown adult with bills, responsibilities, and a brain that knows better, wrestling still feels magical.

It’s absurd.

It’s theatrical.

And sometimes, it’s just real enough to make you question everything.

Lesson Learned: Sometimes, it’s okay to believe in the black goo, the spells, and the Harlem shake. Because life’s a lot more fun when you let yourself get lost in the ridiculousness.

Papa Shango Won That Night

So, yes—wrestling is “fake.” But that night, Papa Shango was real. And so was the fear, the awe, and the sheer ridiculous joy of watching The Ultimate Warrior shake like he’d been cursed by every voodoo priest in history.

Love reliving these absurd, magical moments from your childhood? Follow The Most Humble Blog for more hilarious, nostalgic deep dives and unapologetic truth bombs.

[jisreal64]

I’m stealing this poll from a different user, but I don’t care. What is your favorite sub-genres of Broadway and stage musicals?:

[incognitobobcat]

Headcanon Tomáš

Photo Source: @jojogreg8441 on Twitter

Name: Tomáš Vrbada

Birthday: July 11, 1993

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Birthplace: Prague, Czech Republic

Languages: Czech, English, Chinese (dialect unknown), learning Japanese

Fighting Style: Ninjitsu and Pencak Silat

Weapon: Karambit

Religion: formerly Catholic

Favorite Colors: Silver and light shades of blue

Favorite Foods: Svíčková, Řízek, Rajská omáčka, Madam Bo’s cooking, homecooked meals, Gyoza, and food from the Osaka night markets (ie. Kuromon), enjoys food in general

Favorite Beverages: Water, Pilsner, milkshakes, and some juices

Favorite Pastimes: movies and tv shows, music, walks in nature, traveling, enjoying various foods from restaurants and night markets

Favorite Actor: Johnny Cage

Favorite Movie Genres: Action, adventure, suspense, psychological thrillers, comedy, and whatever else from other genres that appeal to him.

Favorite Music: Contemporary music, alternative metal, classical and soothing instrumental music.

Favorite Dating/Hangout Spots: Osaka night markets, cozy and casual and cozy restaurants, and romantic and peaceful natural spots.

Personality: He is stern, intimidating, and quiet on the outside. He is able to command the respect from his subordinates. He is assertive in a firm and confident way. As a trained assassin under two established clans, he is true to his oaths and never backs down from kombat. He is loyal, courageous and deadly in his profession. As a person, he is kind, gentle, soft-spoken, eager to help and caretake others. He is intelligent and kind. He enjoys favorite past times with people he likes to hang out with and a woman he’s interested. He can be funny and is a good actor.

Ideal Woman: Tomáš likes a soft and gentle personality who can really connect with him on an emotional level. He values kindness, compassion, and empathy. He needs a partner who can give him the emotional safety and space to be vulnerable. Being a giver himself, he loves it when a woman graciously and enthusiastically accepts his gifts and chivalrous gestures. He also wants a woman who can handle his constant need for reassurance and appreciation, so constant attention and physical touch are very important to him.

Turnoffs In A Woman He Dates: Abrasive, angry, negative, careless with how she words things (straightforwardness is a gray area as it varies from individual to individual), blunt to harsh, overall oné who isn’t “feminine” in behavior. Fiercely independent women are frustrating for him to deal with. He may not be aware of this: even though he has fought alongside strong women who are fierce warriors, he has traditional views of how his woman should be and prefers her to be meek and dependent on him, as it feeds his masculine ego and need to look after someone who is weaker.

Deepest fears: To expand on the last point mentioned above, Tomas’ need to look after someone weaker stems from his past traumas of losing loved ones. He has a fear of abandonment. Subconsciously, this is his way of being in control of what he views as his and those who he sees are in need of his help. This brings him alot of gratification and allows him to feel like he is in control, sometimes in an intrusive way.

Furthermore, When Tomas feels he is not being seen and recognized for his acts of kindness, this will further fuel his fear. When someone can do for themselves what he desires to do for them, he interprets this as a message that he is no longer needed, and therefore discarded.

Turn Off For A Potential Partner: Once Tomas has decided that you are the woman that he wants because you check all of his boxes and meet his needs, he will physically and emotionally latch onto his partner. He would want to be with her as much as he can. Tomas is a very physically affectionate person and will want to cuddle, hold hands and make out as much as possible. He loves frequently having sex as a way to pour himself into his partner and bond with her, and it helps him de-stress, so he will make sure that he gets this as much as possible. This may drain the woman, especially when she is tired or not in the mood.

If the woman isn’t on the same level as Tomas is regarding falling in love at his pace or is more reserved regarding his physical and emotional needs, is not ready to open up about the details of her life, or cannot be emotionally present for reasons ranging from business to tiredness to being with girlfriends, he can get frustrated, insecure, and extremely jealous, to which he will verbally express this making him come across as whiny. If she is careful with her body and not want to have sex during certain times of the month out of fear of unwanted pregnancy, Tomas may eventually accuse her of making excuses to not want to be intimate. In his mind, there must be something wrong with him or she may be falling out of love that she’s distancing herself from him. Repeated reassurances may fall on deaf ears as he may shut down and walk away, or argue her points in such a way to make her feel guilty. The woman may feel obligated to give in to soothe his fears and build resentment over time or she may have to end the relationship.

Tomas expects his partner to be able to pick up on what he is feeling and can’t shut down when his partner doesn’t. Because he fears abandonment, he can be emotionally selfish where he will emotionally manipulate his partner with guilt trips on how much he has done for her, her not appreciating him, and playing the victim to get reassurance and physical affection from her. This may make the woman feel like her efforts are not good enough, which affects her self-esteem, she may feel abused and and be emotionally drained to the point of apathy. Her pulling away from him will further trigger his fears and Tomas may cry and beg, promising to change. If she chooses to stay, things may get comfortable for the old habits to come back. If she walks away, Tomas may double down on his efforts, making it even harder for her to leave.

These behaviours only manifest behind closed doors when you are his person. Outside of that, things are normal to untrained eyes.

Healthy Tomas: If he is healthy and secure in himself and his partner, Tomas is the most giving to her beyond the physical. He will make her feel like she is his priority and she will feel emotionally safe and contained by him. He is empathetic and is attuned to her moods and needs. He also knows when he needs his space and can communicate clearly with his partner, and vice versa. He is also able to walk away from a toxic relationship or once he feels that a relationship has run its course while holding on to the good memories. Tomas is respectful of his partner’s refusal to be intimate for her reasons and will make sure that her needs are taken care of when she is tired or stressed while putting his feelings aside. He is a great friend and lover, and wants to build a family with his future wife when she is the one. He will make an excellent father and husband and would die to protect his family.

[eatin-bread-n-cryin]

Introduzione

(both are 100% real pictures of me trust)

Hello queers and freaks, I've seen a lot of profiles do introductions and I wanna sooo:

plz be my moot if you share interests :3

Feel free to DM and tag me whenever :)

My name is Ro

My writing blog @eatin-bread-n-writin

Pronouns: Short ver: she/they, she/her. Long ver: pronouns.page

Birthday: April 11th ;D

Pansexual / AFAB Demigirl / Quoisexual

Spanish and English, learning Italian :0

Mexican

INFP, Aries, 9w1

I have a dog :3

No religion, just gay

A Tism™

My Spotify playlist ^^

My AO3

Interests and fandoms

This list is in no particular order rn

Yapping

I play the kalimba :D

AO3

Writing

Art, drawing

🫶 Cats, raccoons, crows and owls 🫶

Music (I like lots of genres idk)

• MARINA

• Will Wood

• Anya Nami

• VOCALOID (and utau and allthat)

• Tom Lehrer, Lesley Gore, Ruth Wallis, Donald O'Connor, Debbie Reynolds, Frank Sinatra

• Jack Stauber

• cavetown

• Alec Benjamin

• Mother Mother

• Cuarteto de Nos

• TV Girl

• Måneskin

• Chappell Roan

• The Crane Wives

• The Living Tombstone

• Crusher-P, Ghost and Pals, KIRA

• Toybox

Musicals (my faves:)

• Heathers

• Beetlejuice

• Wicked

• Be More Chill

• If it counts, EPIC the musical

Alien Stage

South Park

SFW furry :3

Batman/Batfamily

DC in general lol

Spiderman and Deadpool

Moral Orel

Video games

• FNAF

• Class of '09

• Stardew Valley

• Danganronpa (V3 my fav)

• Mouthwashing

• Sonic the Hedgehog

• Undertale and Deltarune

• Dead Plate

• DDLC

• Horror RPGs (Mad Father, Blood Soup, etc. I can't remember them all rn lmao)

• More but those are the main ones

YouTube (Kwite, Ricardo Alcaraz, Derker Bluer, Fzst, Sir Fluff, Mummy Joe, ricky tafolla, Sr Pelo, Drew Gooden, Danny Gonzalez, Markiplier, Film Cooper, Jschlatt, the poopie show, Danny Motta, GameGrumps, ManlyBadassHero, The Boys, BIG etcetera)

The Amazing Digital Circus

Don't Hug Me I'm Scared

FNAFHS unfortunately

Smiling Friends

Greek mythology (Icarus my beloved)

Cartoon Network (mostly TAWOG, SU and Adventure Time)

Gravity Falls

Death Note

Bob's Burgers

Kuromi and My Melody

Asobi Asobase (pre-newspaper club (⁠눈⁠‸⁠눈⁠))

There's more but I can't remember rn lmao

Auto imposed wall of shame

I've been / I am a

Wattpad crackfic writer

Tiktok brain rot user

FNAF kid

Roblox kid

Minecraft kid

Gacha kid

Edgy teen

YouTube animatics fan

and more

I'm not saying which ones I still am (that's a lie I probably will if you ask 😔)

Tags I use (I forget often tho lol)

#eatin bread and reblogging (for reblogs)

#eatin bread and yapping (for original posts)

#eatin bread and writin (for my writing, mostly reblogs of my writing blog lol)

[wiinterz]

ain’t no story fit for us | satoru

pairing: satoru x black plus size fem!reader

genre: established relationship, one-shot

warning: fluff(?), heavy angst, character death, blood, injuries, usage of a gun, detailed with the injuries, betrayal, deception of religion

word count: 1.6k

summary: he’s your best friend, your boyfriend, your one and only. there was nothing in the world that could pull you two away.

☏ ᴛᴀʏ’s ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs: old one-shot!

songs: sweet gin by leisure suite. lover, you should’ve come over by jeff buckley.

recs I taglist I help hub I jjk m.list

storm-blue eyes darted around the area, his porcelain hand wrapped around your ebony hand. lips pressing kisses that scattered everywhere on your shoulder as the two of you walked. the sky had been empty, a void that looked exactly like his eyes.

sliver buildings filled the streets as the two of you walked. you kicked the pebbles under your sophisticated boots, ones he bought for you. he was quiet, muted, yet brain full of static like a tv. his arms wrapped around you tightly, his heart pounding.

you had no idea what was wrong with him if anything was wrong with him. he denied it each time you asked but you knew him well. his eyes which were glint in color had been completely distorted.

his pink lips were cracked, eyes glistening from his demons. his mind roared like thunder in the storm while he stayed silent like the eye of the tornado. he held your hand tightly, feeling as if he would lose you.

he was terrified of himself, of what he saw when you weren’t there. when the loneliness crept in, dragging him out of his bed.

he tugged on his midnight purple sweater, his black pants matched with his black sneakers. ones that got dirtied up by the puddles in the streets. the streetlights reflect on your face, your eyes lighten up as cars beep and drive by. you had your earphones in, and you and satoru sharing them.

the sounds of music. something so peaceful yet never helped him.

you held onto him, walking past strangers, some occupied with their phones, maps, or food. you, however, were occupied with figuring out where your train was. going down to the subway, you let go of his hand, handing your ticket. satoru tapped on his thigh, his head hopping to the beat of the music. you looked around the subway, people in different styles and different expressions walked by. some with urgency in their steps while others seemed to have no care in the world.

the white light cast on his skin, he’s looking up, his diamond-cut eyes had been drowned with pearly salts that hit his cheeks. he’s uncommunicative, the cords of the song taking over his consciousness.

you stare at him for a moment, taking in his beauty, one that makes you yearn for him. your heart beat for him, your soul kissed his ever so kindly — yet he was rigid and could never completely comprehend your love.

he’s like a guardian angel, staring up to the gates of heaven, ones that cast him out, like the fallen angel. the palm of his hands scarred from his nails, pushing into his skin, cutting down. causing him to bleed a bit. dark blood dripped on the floor and his shoes. he kept looking up, biting on his bottom lip. yielding to his demons, that greed for his salvation.

you walk up to him, picking his hand up slowly, and opening his palm. he looks at you, gulping. you were his savior, you lit the candlesticks that had been darkened from the touch; his touch.

his mouth parts open, yet nothing escapes. birds stuck in cages, banging to be free. yet, nothing.

you go in your bag, take out a wet wipe, place it on his skin, you rub it softly, muttering sweet words to him. things to remind him, that he’s safe. though he wished he could believe it, however, it felt as if it were lies — he was not safe, not when you weren’t around. yet it was an unforeseen war coming, one you couldn’t save him from that would take satoru to choose a life with you or without you.

licking his lips and rubbing them, he kisses your cheek. on time, the train comes, opening the doors to let people in and out. you guys go on the train, sitting down on the seats. satoru still listened to music while you went through your bag to make sure everything was in there.

once you had everything, you kept your bag close to you. satoru rests his head on your shoulder, wrapping his hands around your arm and closing his eyes. you stay quiet, opening up your book as you read to yourself, becoming engrossed by the story immediately.

the lights flicker above him, pushing past people as shoulders hit each other. he coughs, blood spitting on the ground. his shoes are a mess, dirt covered on it. his beige color shirt matched with the background. people ignored him, yet he stuck out like a sore thumb. he knew it, yet he didn’t care, that was the least of his worries. finding an ivy-green painted wall, he leans on it, covering the side of his stomach. applying pressure on the gash.

groans leave his lips, and his dark brown eyes stay closed. he’s got a horizontal cut on his left eye, a bit of blood spilling out and covering his sclera. his long black hair covers most of his face, and his left hand fully bloody. tears fall to his neck, messing up the collar of his shirt.

he’s a deadman walking and he knows it. different shades of grey sully his soul.

you wrap your fingers around his non-injured hand, kissing his forehead, pushing his white hair back a little. satoru looks at you with a weak smile. he kisses your lips and rubs your cheek.

to satoru, you look like a goddess of purity, if water spilled on your skin, it would make beads that you could hold and make jewelry out of. your hands were warm in contrast to his cold ones. your hands kept him feeling like home was you. and in his mind, if heaven truly existed, you would be the true embodiment of it.

the train goes to a stop, letting you know you reached your destination. satoru stands, holding his hand out for you. you take it and the two of you walk together. once you were out of the train, you guys turned to the right, walking down, you knew you had to walk upstairs to get out of the station. yet in hindsight, the walk to the stairs seemed farther than usual.

satoru kept holding your hand, his other fingers tapping on his thigh to make a beat. it was his way of keeping him calm through the crowded area. a little trick you taught him anytime you got overwhelmed.

pushing up from the wall, he groans a bit and starts to walk. placing his hand on people’s shoulders, some freak out while others give him a  foul look. though he couldn’t care less, he was making it through the crowds, seeing the figure he wanted. his target, his victim, his success.

he smirks, his eyes glimmering with a deception of happiness. he was a false god, and he was content with the title. cause in some cases, he was a god to others, he was that fallen angel, who burnt everything beautiful. he burnt himself in the midst of it all. his eyes widened, when people got in his way, making it harder for him to get ahold of his trophy. yet giving up was far too easy for his liking, he was close to tasting succession.

his chain of hands praying slipped out from under his shirt. dangling down, a bit of blood has splattered on it, rusting the sliver.

once he sees his trophy once again, a smile appears on his face. he walks up only to be pushed right back into the sea of people. yet never giving up, he made his way to his victim. in his mind, it was filled with sickening sentences of death. some saying crush the soul from the outside in. others begging for him to create a massacre that would be a blurry beauty.

yet he stuck to one, his original prophecy plan.

pulling the gun out from his back pocket, he holds it, meters away from his victim’s back.

you accidentally dropped your lipgloss, watching it roll, you sigh and turn around, about to pick it up. your eyes widen seeing a man — the man, holding his gun, pointing it at you.

satoru hears you gasp, making him turn around to see what nightmare you uncovered. in the blink of an eye, the gun’s position moves with you, as you take up your lipgloss and slowly stand straightly. the cold metal moves swiftly, staring deathly at your man.

satoru eyes widen, tears forming immediately to the revealer of his betrayer. “suguru?” his voice soft like a pillow, yet held so much weight, something similar to the weight the gun placed on suguru’s hand. he levels the glock with satoru’s face, tears with the mixture of blood flowing down to his cheek. in the process of his feelings, his finger pushed hard on the trigger, feeling the gun spring a little.

the bullet crackled through the gun, and the shutter of the weapon was loud, making everyone around see the destruction. satoru’s body jumped a bit, his head going forward while the rest of his body fell back. hitting the ground, you scream, immediately going to the ground and holding him like a child.

you look at suguru who stares at satoru. no words needed to be spoken, their eyes did the talking. a silent argument between the two as people ran and became worried about themselves instead of satoru.

satoru’s eyes were full of pain, of genuine hurt. his own best friend, his brother — causing such devastation to fulfill his demon’s needs.

suguru stared at satoru, while you kept coddling satoru, crying for someone to help. your pleas made suguru feel worse than better. and yet, he did nothing but watch you struggle, watch his enemy suffer.

[kentuckyfriedsatan]

Because one person asked…here is what music I listen to besides Ghost!

Some have a connection to Ghost though hehe

(German Edition)

In no particular order, under the cut because it’s long!

1) Nachtblut

Genre: metal, maybe gothic metal if that’s a thing?

Songs to listen to: Multikulturell, Lied für die Götter, Leierkinder

Notes: the lyrics are cool but you might have to get used to this particular style of music, they love critiquing all religions, I saw them live and they were great (singer has the most stunning black hair I have ever seen in real life by the way)

2) Die Ärzte

Genre: Rock, Punk

Songs to listen to: Junge, Schrei nach Liebe, Zu Spät

Notes: I grew up listening to them, they are really popular in German speaking countries

3) Mavis

(German band but they sing in English)

Genre: metalcore I think?

Songs to listen to: DNA, Reflections, Isoto

Notes: they are not so well known but definitely deserve more attention, they are great live

4) Lord of the lost

(German band but they sing in English and German)

Genre: Metal, Rock, Gothic, Glam?

Songs to listen to: Blood & Glitter, One last song, Six feet underground, Satans Fall

Notes: The singer Chris Harms is featured in Mad Gallicas ‘Souls on fire’ Go listen to that! Also they are one of the most entertaining bands I have ever seen live. Only the ghost ritual made me dance more than their show (one person circle pit for the win lol)

5) Alligatoah

Genre: rap, hip hop? I have no idea actually because I don’t usually listen to these genres

Songs to listen to: Willst du, Partner in crime, F**k ihn doch

Notes: as I said this is a total outlier to what I usually listen to, but I also grew up with his music. He also collaborates with many interesting other artists such as Fred Durst from Limp Bizkit and Mille Petrozza from Kreator

6) Kreator

(German band but they sing in English)

Genre: thrash metal

Songs to listen to: Satan is real, Hate über alles

Notes: I don’t think I have to say much, they are well known in the metal community.

Have you all seen the video of Terzo doing backing vocals for them and dancing with a nun on a German tv show?

7) Heaven shall burn

(German band but they sing in English)

Genre: Metalcore, Melodic Death Metal?

Songs to listen to: Black tears, Protector, Voice of the voiceless

Notes: I love their political messages, saw them live and even though there were so many mosh pits and crowsurfers I felt really save and the band always keeps their eyes out for the audience and stop songs if necessary

And a lot more that don’t need explanation like Scorpions, Powerwolf, Helloween

[ferallyghouls]

thank u for the tag, my lovely friend @r4mb05-g4mblt!

so let’s get to know me

Last Song:

i’m actually not a huuuuge mac miller fan, although i do rlly enjoy what i have listened to! i’ve been on a bit of a kick where i shuffle my liked music w the feature that adds some you may like? i’ve heard a bunchhh of great music this way! however- bc i can not physically touch or see my phone while doing this, i can not save them v.v

Last TV show:

(i watch a lot at once…. anyways)

pretty little liars - i am rewatching this with my friend, m! she’s never seen it before and i knew she’d looove how juicy the drama is. it was a huuuge part of my teen years. i love getting her texts abt it!

common side effects - this is a fantasticcc ongoing show!! for all my mushroom lovers and government conspirators, this would be right up your alley :3

righteous gemstones - this show is SO hilarious! it’s a show kind of surrounding religion, but in a super funny way? i’m obsessed! the new season is gonna be coming out every sunday

last but definitely NOT least!!!

apothecary diaries - AHHHHHHHHHHHH that’s all my brain can really say! it’s also giggling and blushing v much abt it

Last Book:

Society of Lies by Lauren Ling Brown

they had a sale at target on books and this was one i got! i honestly just go to my favorite genres and pick random books until i like the little description. i haven’t read very much of it, as im not in my book era rn, but i like it whenever i do!

Last Movie:

Jumanji (the old one ofc, was feeling nostalgic)

m and i got sooo high and had ONE lemon drop and we were passed outttttt by the first quarter, so does that really count? but tbh i haven’t been a huge movie girly for a long time! i hate being able to predict the plot, i get v bored

Last Google Search:

believe it or not, it was “picrew” i really like to play dress up….. thus my obsession w sims, bg3, skyrim, etc all come into play

Favorite Color:

gahhh i hate this question!!!

okokok i lean a lot more towards black when it comes to owning things! it just goes w everything n its honestly so cute ngl!

but i loooove pinks, browns, greens (all taurus colors btw, not to toot my own horn but yk)

Current Obsession:

going back home! it consumes my every waking thought, honestly! thinking about the beach, the nature, the creeks/rivers, the sunrises/sets, the grass, my family, how happy my dogs are gonna be. i could go on and on and on

lil pic for u guys, i could sit there forever v

i hope u enjoyed :)

gonna tag some peeps i’m curious abt off the top of my head

@yomarxxo @lifewine @puppyjaws @atrocititty @bootyrockincowgirl420 @pissed-whizard @throne0fglass @immajinsoul @rhiezu

(obvi there’s lots more, but that stupid stoner brain)

[olderthannetfic]

/724781513472868352 I resonate with this on a deep level. I get told at college all the time that I don't look LGBT+ (they refuse to say queer, respectability politics is a helleva drug), I don't act it, no queer person is into my major or my hobbies, and it's weird that I'm queer but not into astrology or dressing more aesthetically ("are you a cottagecore or a dark academia gay?" I'm neither I'm a me) or playing Pokemon because outgrowing Pokemon is for cishets. People talk about gays/LGBT+ not being able to drive or do math or sit normally and then act like I'm some kind of ridiculous weirdo for not laughing at what they assure me is a true statement that does not apply to them or to me. People encourage me to experiment with my style or hair and "come out of your shell". I am informed I need to listen to certain musicians because all LGBT+ people are into them. It's weird that I'm not. It's even weirder I don't like The Owl House or hate Steven Universe or keep up with Heartstopper like the good queers do.

Basically it all boils down to, "Why can't you be more normal? Why can't you be like us?"

Because I'm not. My dad is a Pashtun Muslim and my mother is a Bukharan Jew. I have lived in the Deep South half my life and Wyoming the other half. My media interests are unrelated to queer rep and wholly based on liking the plots of things. I grew up on oldies and TV shows like Starsky and Hutch that my parents loved, pirated and played on repeat. I don't believe in astrology, I'm not a witch and I'm not an atheist with a Christocentric worldview who assumes all religions are Christianity Lite. I don't listen to the correct musicians mostly because I discover music entirely by accident and have a mishmash of genres and bands in rotation. Pokemon fell off and I'm not into it. I would sooner die than dye my Pashtun red hair that people made fun of me for as a kid. I like wearing button downs, clean shirts, nice jeans and my Magen David. None of this is incompatible with being queer. No one is going to kick me out of a gay club for not having played Pokemon Violet or listening to Tracy Chapman or trusting in science over crystals for healing.

And I really hate that after years of being avoided and pitied in high school by jackass backwards rednecks for being weird, I got to my dream university, the university in the most liberal city in Montana, and get the same fucking treatment.

Commenters like the one anon mentioned remind me of all the people who act like I'm doing it wrong. What is 'it', in that sentence? Living my life. Being queer. And when it crops in fandom - and I've gotten it sometimes for writing queer characters who are like me, Southern and into uncool shit and not sharp dressers and religious - it just makes me want to start screaming.

I am queer. I am not incorrectly queer. I am who I am and therefore, because I am queer, that is a correct way to do queerness.

Some gripes about Gen Z are overblown but this weirdly narrow view of what queerness is allowed to look like or be is 100% as awful as other generations say it is and it's fucking exhausting to live through. I don't have to sit differently in order to be doing queerness right or be unable to drive. I exist and I am queer and that is all I need to do and be.

I wish fandom was different from real life. I wish it was more open to the reality that queer people have a multitude of backgrounds and lived experiences. We're facing enough shit IRL, can't we just have one place where we're NICE to each other?

--

As a 40+ queer, I'm laughing myself sick at the current crop of "required" queer interests.

In my day, it was oldschool cis gay male culture for the men (think being obsessed with Bette Davis) and But I'm a Cheerleader and Dykes to Watch Out For for the women or something.

Not that you have to like any of those things either. It's just hilarious how clueless people are about what's a temporary trend that will probably be different in 5 years.

[artist-issues]

I remember a while back you mentioning Severance, any thoughts now that Season 2 is releasing?

Um, YES

thank you for remembering

I reviewed Severance (professionally) when it first came out, so I was sort of forced to really chew on it when it isn’t my cup of tea, style-and-genre-wise.

I think they walk the line between “dark” and “goofy” really intentionally, which is an amazing accomplishment. You’re sitting there watching it, and you might be laughing just as often as you are jumping in your seat. I also think you like the characters you’re supposed to like and hate the characters you’re supposed to hate very palpably, so that’s also awesome.

I like the emphasis the show places on “truth setting you free,” and I also like the way it appears to be committed to “life has value,” and “you can’t run from reality.”

But what I hate, what I can’t stand, is how the show uses all of that to also push the whole “you can’t just chop up your full self and pick and choose what to feel.” I mean, there might be many and varied takes on this, but I think the majority of the show does paint choosing to be “severed” in a negative light.

And they do that, of course, because LGBTQ+ messaging. Don’t try to argue with me. Don’t have your gay character turn from devoutly following the corrupt religion that’s got him imprisoned and smash a piece of cake in their Holy Scriptures specifically after his boyfriend is killed by that religion…and then decide to “burn it to the ground,” despite the fact that “it” is his whole existence…as a severed aspect of a whole human’s person. And then try to tell me that “don’t cut off parts of yourself” isn’t an allegory for pro-LGBTQ+ ideology.

Of course, you can spin it. You can see how characters say things like “they (the severed parts of you) didn’t choose to exist!” And like, make that a pro-life or pro-choice argument, however you see fit. They walk that line nice and carefully, too.

But the bottom line is, Lumin, the company they’re all trapped in, are the bad guys. Kier and the whole cultic ideology is the bad guy. But nobody making that show is expecting the broad audience to be able to relate to the experience of being in a real-world cult. Being a part of a real-world cult is a niche experience that not a lot of people purchasing Apple TV have had.

So…what are they trying to say? To who? What are they trying to say by having a big cult that science-fiction-separates people’s lives into “cold hard categories” and makes them live by “abusive, oppressive rules?” They’re not really trying to say, to their audience, “some cults are out there, and they’re crazy, man.” That’s not relevant. That’s not applicable, or relatable, or an interesting talking point. What is relatable and applicable and can feel satisfying to anyone who ever felt constrained by their religion, is to make a show that says, “Don’t let these crazy faith organizations puppet your life and tell you who you are.”

The whole show is about people who are in torment in real life, so they “escape” by submitting a part of themselves to a smiley religion. But that smiley religion actually just keeps the “part”of themselves they’ve submitted caged and abused and manipulated, and if only gives the severed-self glimpses of “your real self” in its own packaging, and when you see it like that, it feels so preachy it’s hard to stomach.

We get it. Religion bad. Religion ridiculous. Gay guy good. 🙄 It’s so insipid it makes me angry talking about it. And even the actual shtick of the show, the vibe, the suspenseful “what the heck is happening” from moment to moment? I liked it in the first season but in the second season I feel my eyeballs rolling out of my head. I get it. You’re suspenseful. People make long awkward eye contact and dialogue has no follow-up or resolution. Goooot itttt

I can basically predict that I’m about to be made-to-feel-uncomfortable in every scene now, so it takes me out of it. There’s never any genuine or normal-human moments in there to lull me into a false sense of security before the next weird-thing happens. It’s like. Every moment is weird. And it’s exhausting. And weirdly boring. By far the most vomit-inducing agonizing scenes are the ones with Harmony Cobel. Ugh. Every time she opens her mouth I’m like “I’m in for a lot of forced weirdo dialogue. Maybe she’ll scream or throw something abruptly again.” Every time she features in a scene alone I’m like “well, she’s going to look at things intensely while ominous music plays.” It’s too much, it’s irritating.

But! There are things about the characters and characterizations that I like. I don’t know if you’re caught up but Mark is my favorite character, and I think that actor, (Adam Scott?) is excellent. Really really good, obviously.

He really won me over with the whole no-hesitation, immediately, as soon as the lady says, “I can reintegrate you,” he goes, “yes. Do it. I want to see my wife.”

I mean, they set that up really well. The whole first part of the show with Petey, just a horrible series of events for him to witness and fear reintegration. But the immediate second he thinks there’s a chance his wife is alive he doesn’t even hesitate. It’s like “yep, give me the brains bleeding out my nose and seizures and insanity.” I literally said, “aw” out loud.

I really want it to work. But I think what’ll happen is, next episode, it’ll open with him panicking and backing out (if I were them and I’d written myself into this corner, I’d probably make him see, in his weird flashes, a flash of Petey, and that lady killing that guy with a baseball bat, and then he snaps out of it and gets out of the chair and angrily berates her and realizes this is insane, why should he trust her about his wife, she’s dead, he saw the body, she’s a murderer, etc.) Or it’ll be a really long episode of mind-journeying and they’ll end that episode with him backing out of reintegration, with more questions than ever. Or it just won’t work, but he’ll get like, flashes of consciousness in the Severance workplace or vice versa.

Because I feel like if they have him reintegrate successfully, all of the secrets begin to unravel for the company immediately. Both of those “characters” effectively disappear. And then what’s the show? I think it was a bait-and-switch. And if it was, I’ll be even more frustrated with the show than I am now.