#and I think everyone deserves space to connect to and enjoy this character

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 6 - Your Brother | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

Even though things were ‘good’ you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about what you and Trent were doing. He was in and out of town so often for football it was hard to know what was happening. So, in the midst of flickering doubts, you had decided you would try to create some self-imposed distance to keep your heart safe. You’d gotten to a place where yes… you were sending nudes, videos of you in bed which in itself maybe wasn’t the smartest but it was happening, you were enjoying it in fact. But enjoyment couldn’t mask apprehension. Still, you were keeping everything just on the phone. Keeping everything hush, not even Layla knew how deep things were getting. And while this digital relationship was blossoming, you were keeping the public one that existed in front of everyone’s eyes at an arm's length. And it hurt to be living what felt like a double life.  You two clearly had no self control and that was evident in the text exchanges so keeping your distance felt smart.  With all of that in mind, you hadn’t expected to see Trent at your door this afternoon, let alone embracing you in a cuddle so warm it felt like he hadn’t seen you in ages when it’d been mere days. You stiffened at first, taken by surprise, but quickly melted into him. As much as you tried to pretend you shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t do this with him, you yearned for this very thing; the physical connection you were trying so hard to keep at bay. You tried to believe that space was the best thing to do to keep yourself safe but the second his arms wrapped around you… the world melted along with you. Memories of him flooding you. It was like he had your heart before you couldn’t even try to stop him from grabbing it. You were powerless and you loved being weak for him. 

“You’re back home.” Your voice was muffled against his skin in the embrace of the hug. He hummed, squeezing you that much tighter. Just as you began to pull back, his grin widened cheekily. 

“Can you wait here f’me? I got something for you.” Before you could respond, He smiled as he darted back out to his car, leaving you standing there, curiosity building, warmth flooding you. When he returned, he was holding a stunning bouquet, petals in shades of blush and deep red. 

“I don’t play footie in the park anymore so I thought you deserve more than a daisy.” He smiled earnestly with a glint in his eyes that almost looked scared. Trent was still grappling with how to show you just how much he cared. He was worried about Jack, sure, but keeping things hush didn’t feel so bad at the minute as long as he showed you he cared. He was looking for that sweet spot of past and present. And so began another attempt. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed as you took the flowers, turning them in your hands, admiring every detail. But Trent wasn’t done. “Pretty girl…” He cooed gently to grab you attention off the floral arrangement and back to him. He smirked holding two more bags. You raised your brow with a smile you couldn’t contain anymore. He handed you a sleek Dior shopping bag, his words tumbling out in a rush. “You know like… I was in just France for the game and… well, I saw this, and I just thought of you.” He stumbled through words with a smile. You turned and placed the flowers and the bag on a console in the foyer of the house unboxing it all. Inside was a mini red Dior lady dior, classic, chic, and unmistakably something you loved on sight. Yes, this was very much so a perk of present day Trent. 

“Trent, I—” You looked up at him, stunned, your heart racing. But before you could finish, he interrupted with a cheeky smirk.

“One more thing… because well, in my opinion it matches and…”  As you took the next bag he was pushing towards you and began to open the other, you smirked with a furrowed brow. It wasn't any more designer, instead something priceless. You pulled out a familiar red top you had just seen Trent wearing on the telly during his match days ago. You smiled seeing a Liverpool Alexander-Arnold jersey. One of his own. “If you ever want to wear one,” he said, his eyes softening. “I’d prefer it if it was mine. Because you know… you’re kind of mine.” The words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You ran your fingers over the bold name and number on the back, biting back a giddy smile. 

“This is… wow, are you sure, baby, It’s a pretty big statement.” you teased, glancing up at him. He stepped closer, his eyes serious, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I mean it.  You’re… You’re so important to me, Y/N.” That moment felt like a declaration all on its own, leaving you feeling lighter and less uncertain, ready to see where this might possibly go.  That maybe it wasn’t all just for behind closed doors. The gift in your hands felt weighty, more than just fabric or leather—it felt like a quiet promise. “I always liked when you were at the park watching me play growing up, and I really like it when you’re at Anfield now watching me.” His words stuck you deep. Maybe he wasn’t just making it all up about having a crush on your growing up in the park. The way Trent looked at you, the softness in his eyes and the little, lingering smile on his lips, spoke volumes. You glanced down at the jersey again, fingertips tracing over the double barreled last name. This wasn’t just a shirt; it was a claim, a gesture that felt almost absurdly personal. He watched you closely, gauging every shift in your expression. His usual confident demeanor softened, almost vulnerable, as he waited for you to say something more. But words felt clumsy in that moment, so you took a small step forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly. Trent hugged you back, his hands gentle against your back, pulling you in like he was afraid to let go.

“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you finally whispered into his shoulder, feeling both overwhelmed and elated. You pulled back, just enough to look up at him. “This is… it’s really thoughtful, T, baby.” He gave a little shrug, downplaying the significance. 

“Think about you a lot. I wish I could show you better. This is one way I guess.  And I just thought you’d look better in one mine, yeah?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed him. You could see the warmth, the intent behind this small collection of gifts. Grinning, you took the jersey holding it up between you. 

“So… I’m supposed to just wear this and be yours, huh?” You said with a smirk. His grin turned into a smirk. 

“That’s the idea,” he said, stepping in close, his hands finding your waist. “But only if you’re up for it.” You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t break his gaze. His fingers began to play with the hem of the shirt you currently had on. You didn’t expect your heart to stutter the way it did seeing him today. You looked down, biting your lip, feeling almost shy under his gaze. 

“And you’re sure?” you murmured, looking back up at him. He reached up, cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek, letting his fingers linger just a little longer against your skin. 

“I’ve known you too long not to be.” His voice was low, and there was a sincerity there that felt like a balm to every worry you’d been carrying. Without another word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, soft but intentional, letting yourself believe him. Trent’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, like he was anchoring himself to you. The kiss deepened, and you both sank into it, unhurried, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.  You finally pulled back from the kiss to really look at the jersey still in your hands. It wasn’t from a store it was very clearly one of his. He even had drawn a little heart, in only a way a boy would, but nevertheless cute, on the bottom of the white embossed  #66. The whole thing was incredibly sweet. 

“Guess I know what I’m wearing to the next match I go to. Someone just has to invite me.” You said with a teasing smile.

“You’re always invited but yeah, you better be wearing that,” he chuckled, his eyes shining. “I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna look perfect on you as well.” And with that, you felt some of your doubts fade, replaced by the excitement of whatever was waiting ahead and right now what was waiting was  thick sexual tension creeping in. As you held the soft fabric of the jersey, Trent's eyes sparkled with mischief. He stepped back into you once more, his muscular body radiating heat, planting a soft kiss on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His warm breath fanning your sensitive skin as he gently nibbled, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. Swiftly a moment that was meant to be sentimental, suddenly began to steam up. 

"Do you want me to try it on for you, baby?" you suggested, your voice a little hoarse with desire. Trent hummed in response, his lips still brushing against your skin as his fingers idley returned to play with the hem of your shirt. With a swift motion, he lifted the shirt you were already wearing over your head entirely exposing your bare torso, no bra. Your breath caught at the sudden rush of cool air on your heated skin. Trent's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your full tits, your nipples already hardening in anticipation.

"You look so fucking gorgeous all the fucking time, baby" he growled, his voice thick with want. His hands glided over your shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then slid down to cup your tits. He thumbed your nipples, rolling and pinching gently, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

"I need you, T… now," you murmured before his lips found yours in a searing kiss. The kiss was hungry, demanding, and filled with passion. Different than before. Trent's tongue danced with yours, exploring and claiming, while his hands roamed freely over your body, mapping every curve and valley. He kneaded your boobs, squeezing and lifting them, making you moan into his mouth. You clung to him, running your fingers over his curls, pulling him closer as if you could merge your bodies into one. His erection pressing against your lower belly, a hard ridge that promised pleasure and satisfaction you’d come to know well but couldn’t get enough of. His hands moved to slide around you down to your ass, over it and then under. Breaking the kiss, Trent lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you upstairs, making sure to grab both of your tops in his hand, sparing any damning evidence. His strong arms never faltering as you giggled breathlessly nibbling on his ear lobe whispering the naughtiest things in his ear despite feeling like an innocent princess in his hold. And then like a shot gun signaling a start, your bedroom door clicked shut behind you. 

Trent laid you down on your soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. In a blur of passion, you found yourself on your bed, both of your clothes completely vanished now, your legs wrapped around Trent's strong waist again. He hovered above you, his body a delicious weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against you. His eyes, dark and intense, holding yours captive, and you knew in that moment it truly felt like you were his. The dominant glint in his eyes sent a thrill through your body, making you ache to surrender completely.

“Tell me what you want.” He cooed almost tauntingly.  Trent's voice was a low rumble, filled with desire and possession as he whispered above you leaning in to begin leaving kisses from behind your ear down your jaw. You didn’t answer you just nodded eagerly, giving him permission, your eyes pleading for him to take control. And he did. He pressed his lips to yours as his fingers trailed down your body, tracing your curves, before slipping between your thighs and  through your pussy’s wet folds.  “Such a messy girl. You're so always so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. You were already soaked, your arousal glistening on your sensitive folds. Trent's touch was like a lightning bolt, igniting a fire within you. “Tell me what you want.” He demanded again and it started a fire in you, igniting something carnal. You whined and when he teased his fingers around your clit. 

"You, T, fuck… I want you," you whimpered as he stroked your clit, his touch feather-light but intensely pleasurable. His fingers dipped lower, finding your entrance and pushing inside, filling you with a delicious stretch. You gasped as you felt him slip two fingers all the way inside of you with a curl. He smirked watching your face scrunch up from the intrusion. You arched off your bed, seeking more, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers. "Please, baby" you begged, your voice breathy and desperate. "I need you inside me. I want your cock, T." He grinned down at you, his eyes alight with possessiveness.  “I want you to be rough, T.” You whined desperate for him to just use you. 

"You want me to be rough with you? You like that don't you, baby?" He mocked in the hottest way. You reached out towards him, dragging your hand down his abs before wrapping your hand around his hard shaft. You pumped his cock with your spit mixed with his leaking precum,l. He pulled his fingers out of you swiftly. His one hand laced his fingers with yours pinning your hands above your head, the other tapping his cock against your clit, dragging it through your fold’s teasingly.  Neither of you had the patience for more foreplay. You needed him inside of you now and he was giving you just that.  His big brown eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier and heavier. “You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, hmm?” His words send a thrill through you, a heady combination of desire and submission. You nod eagerly, your eyes locked on his.

"Yeah" you whispered. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hands moving to grip your hip firmly. You felt the broad head of his cock nudging at your entrance before he thrusted forward, filling you in one smooth stroke."Oh, God!" you cried out, your body welcoming him with a delicious tightness. Your hands broke out of his and grabbed to hold him. Your nails digging into his back muscles as he slid inside of you. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp. He rocked into you. Trent’s cock stretched you deliciously hitting the spot only he knew immediately. 

“Doing so good f’me, baby. Take my cock so well. You okay?” He asked gently as he flicked his eyes to yours. You nodded with a shy smile as he pulled back out just barely, leaving just the tip in. With a growl, he thrusted into you again, filling you so completely that you gasped once over. His cock, hard and throbbing, stretching you to the limit, and you loved every second of it. The sensation of being so full, so possessed, sent sparks of pleasure through your body. He set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes. Your bodies creating a sensual rhythm, the squelching sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the room. Trent's jaw clenched, his eyes hooded as he watched his cock disappear into your slick heat.

"You feel so fucking good," you moaned, your breath coming in short gasps. "Feel so deep. Oh my god." You whined. You inhaled a sharp breath feeling a lightheadedness come over as you took him.  He kept his beautiful brown eyes fixed on you. The pupils in his dark eyes dilated as he felt his cock pulse inside you. Every movement was slow, deep, and intentional. His lips curled into a smug smile hearing you whine. You were completely his and he reveled in it. You dragged your ankle down his back muscles. He was so gentle yet harsh at the same time. Trent’s hand slid up your body and wrapped around your neck gently but assertively causing the knot in your core to tighten as you moaned more.   

"Whose pussy is this?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with need. 

"Yours, Trent," you whispered, your voice breathless. "Only yours." He quickened his pace, his hips snapping forward with each thrust, driving into you relentlessly. Your tits, full and heavy, bounced with each movement, the sensitive peaks grazing his chest, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. He let go of your neck and leaned back a little. Trent's hands moving to grip your thighs, holding your legs wide open, exposing you completely to his gaze and touch. 

"God, fuck. You're so fucking wet, baby," he growled, his eyes fixed on the junction where his cock disappeared into your body. "So good f’me." He praised you as you moaned, the explicit words and the sight of him pounding into your body pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands moved off him to clutch at the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you tried to anchor yourself against the force of his thrusts. The room continued to be filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your desperate moans, and Trent's dirty words. Trent could feel your pussy clenching tighter, he knew you were close. 

"Tell me, baby, whose cock are you gonna cum on right now?" Trent's voice was rough but smug, his face a mask of pure desire and self satisfaction.

"Yours, T," you panted, your voice thick with pleasure. “I want to cum on your cock." Your eyes rolling back as you felt the climax building. "I'll only ever cum on your cock, T." Your words seemed to unleash something primal within him. His eyes lit with possession. His hips pistoned faster, his cock pounding into your sensitive flesh. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, his cock feeling harder inside of you, and the knowledge that he was close to his own release sent you spiraling towards your climax. The words you’d just said had tumbled out. And to be honest, you kind of hoped your commitment was true. You only ever wanted his dick… it was that good. You wrapped your legs stayed around his waist, drawing him even deeper, your hands moving to clutch at his shoulders, leaving half-moon marks on his tanned skin. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue invading, possessing. His hips never stoping their relentless motion, driving you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

"That's right, you're my good girl. Only cum f’me. Only gonna ever wear my jersey too, yeah?" he grunted the question, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded as the coil in your stomach tightened. Orgasmic bliss barrelling towards you."Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you love my cock." His words were like a match to the kindling of your desire. His words pushed you over the precipice. Your body tensed every nerve ending singing as you soared into your climax. Trent's fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place as he fucked you into your climax, his own release building. And then in a split second just when the outside world couldn’t have seemed further away you heard the tracks of the garage door begin to open.

 "T!" you cried out, your voice high and desperate. The distant rumble of Jack returning home made your heart stop but you couldn’t stop your body’s orgasmic convulsions though. Your climax exploded through your body, rippling waves of pleasure that caused your back to arch and your pussy to clamp down on Trent’s cock. You cried out, your voice a mix of pleasure and surprise and panic, as your release washed over you, the waves of pleasure so intense they left you trembling. Trent's name was a mantra on your lips you were trying to bite back as you rode the waves of ecstasy but it was all mixed with genuine fear. “T… T.. fuck!” You yelped,  your hands moving to press against his chest to push him off. He didn’t hear the garage, he was locked in. You knew he was about to cum. “Trent!” You yelped just as his body tensed above you. His eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a guttural grunt, his hips making one final, powerful thrust as he filled you with his release. “Jack! Trent!” You told him. Trent had never had a more conflicting climax in his life. Panic, euphoria, and disgust hearing his mates name while he finished all at once. Trent's eyes widened, and he froze, his cock still buried deep within you. His release leaking inside you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched your own. The sensation of his hot cum inside you sent you over the edge again, a second orgasm washing over you, leaving you boneless and sated, Trent fighting back a groan as you tightened around him once more. Panting, your bodies glistening with sweat, you clung to each other, hearts racing but you needed to move. Now. The sudden realization that you were both naked and exposed snapped you back to the present. Anxiety flared in your chest as you scrambled to get Trent off you and find your clothes, your heart pounding. This was it. Jack was going to find out. 

"Shit," Trent cursed, quickly reaching for his boxers. "Your brother... we need to get downstairs." He instructed you. The urgency in his voice mirrored your own racing thoughts. You frantically searched for your clothes, scattered across the room. In a mad dash, you pulled on your panties and scrambled to find everything, while Trent hastily pulled on his trousers. The heat of the moment had turned into a frantic race against time. The sound of Jack’s arrival sent you both into a scramble, grabbing at clothes, fumbling with buttons, zipper, shirts pulled over heads, doing whatever you could to look convincingly casual. 

“Fuck, fuck!” you yelled in a whisper,  heart pounding as you clutched the sides of your shirt, tugging it over your head, trying to compose yourself. You shot Trent a panicked look.  Tears forming on your lash line. 

“Baby… Baby… we’ll be okay. You’re okay. C’mon.” He kissed your forehead before helping adjust your top. The slam of the door into the house had sent you and Trent into an even more panicked frenzy as you scrambled to not look like you just fucked. 

“My car,” Trent hissed almost to himself, eyes wide, realizing that leaving his car in the driveway was like leaving a neon sign that he was there.

“He’s going to see it…” You glanced at him, panicked. There was no hiding now. With your pulse racing, you tried to look as normal as possible, grabbing the closest thing you could find to play off a casual visit—a charger tangled near your bed. The two of you locked eyes, a silent agreement that this was your cover story.  You nodded back before you ran down the stairs just as Jack came through the other side of the house. Thank god the staircase up to your room was at the opposite end. You could hear Jack’s footsteps making his way towards you two as you made it downstairs. When he saw you and Trent his eyebrows raised, but he was relaxed enough. 

“Aye, mate, what’s up?” he asked, looking from Trent to you and back again. Jack looked at Trent with a faintly furrowed brow. Trent plastered on a relaxed smile, putting on his most casual tone.

“Yeah, good bro. Sorry, ah…left my phone charger here last time,” he replied smoothly, nodding toward the one you were now holding out like a lifeline. You forced a smile, trying to seem casual. Jack’s gaze lingered on you for a second, his expression skeptical. 

“So…” Jack’s tone held a playful curiosity. “You knew I wasn’t home?” Trent shrugged. 

“Yeah, bro, only a charger so I didn’t want to nag you about it,” he said, as you casually waving the charger like it was some grand prize he’d finally retrieve. “Y/N was just letting me grab it real quick.” You handed Trent the charger, feeling Jack’s gaze on both of you. Trent took it with a casual ‘Thanks,’ stuffing it into his pocket as if it had been his all along. You were mildly annoyed you were losing a charger but that was the least of your worries “Just thought I’d pop in, grab it, and head out.” Jack stared for a moment longer, lips curving into a smirk as he finally dropped his gaze. 

“Right… sound.” he chuckled.  Trent laughed, playing along, and you couldn’t help but join in, trying to mask your own nerves. Jack looked between you both, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite read but it was more confusion at the energy in the room than a hint of suspicion. But he just laughed, shrugging it off as Trent left. Trent still managed to give you a tiny, playful wink before slipping out, leaving your mind reeling.

“He’s so weird.” Jack teased you, still watching Trent get in his car. “Man makes millions and he’s pressed about a charger.” You let out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to play it cool. You felt Jack’s arm wrap around your shoulder in a lighthearted squeeze, and he shot you a teasing grin.

“Nah, he’s just… Trent… mindful, maybe?” you managed, trying to fill the silence and maybe convince both Jack and yourself. Jack smirked, shaking his head. Your heart was still racing but at least Trent had remained calm. 

“Yeah, well, you were probably just gassed you got his attention alone for five minutes.” He laughed, punching at your arm as he passed you. You forced yourself to chuckle, hoping the nervous energy vibrating through you wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Jack’s teasing had hit closer to home than he knew, and as you watched Trent’s car pull away from the driveway, you felt a mix of thrill and relief. The cover story might’ve worked, but the spark between you two? That was only getting harder to hide.

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes, trying to sound nonchalant as you looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You laughed, a little too loudly, hoping it came off as amused and not as a frantic release of tension.  Jack gave a little shrug, seemingly satisfied. 

“Just saying, you love Trenty.” He laughed teasingly but you didn’t. Not this time. “Y/N… I’m kidding. I know he’s your mate too. Relax. He came for a charger, innit. I’m joking. Sorry.” He looked at you apologetically, mildly confused why a tease about you have a crush on Trent hit so differently than before. He always poked fun but your vibe felt weird. He opted to just  let it roll off his back, moving on and turned, remaining oblivious as he headed to the kitchen. Meanwhile you were left with a stomach full of butterflies, lined with guilt  and a heart still pounding from the close call. Watching Trent drive away, you felt an undeniable thrill mixed with something deeper, something that had you feeling torn between excitement and culpability. The cover story had worked for now, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping this secret would only get harder with time.

Sneaking around with Trent had quickly transformed into something more, something you felt deep in your bones. The thrill was undeniable, yet the way you kept finding yourself drawn back to him made it feel like it wasn't just about the thrill anymore. After Jack almost catching you, it just felt like you both actually thought what you were doing might’ve been worth it. Tonight felt like a step closer to something real, though the secrecy only intensified it. You'd told Jack you'd be staying over at Layla's, a lie that sat heavy, but the promise of a night with Trent made it worth it. When you arrived at his place, Trent's smile greeted you at the door, warm and familiar, and immediately, you felt all that tension melt away. He led you out to the back garden, where he had set up a cozy space just for the two of you. Blankets were draped over the outdoor couch on the patio, and the fire pit cast a gentle, golden glow. Jazz murmured softly from a speaker, blending perfectly with the low hum of the night, creating a sense of comfort that felt more intimate than you'd expected. The whole setup seemed to say: I wanted this to feel special. You nestled into the couch beside him, sharing the same blanket as the fire flickered, warming your faces. Trent leaned back, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the other hand resting on your knee, and you felt yourself relaxing against him as if this was exactly where you belonged.

Although, it wasn't long though before he suggested a game of cards, his competitive spirit sparking in his eyes. You moved to sit cross-legged on the couch, turning to face him as you dealt the cards. Trent sat back, legs spread, confidence written across his face. But as the game went on and the tide turned in your favor, his expression shifted. He huffed when you won a hand, mumbling something about beginner's luck, but you could tell he was getting flustered. When you won again, his pout turned into a grin full of mischief.

"Nah, not having this. C'mon, there's no way you're this lucky," he teased, snatching the cards from your hand before pulling you into his lap, his hands snaking around your waist.

"Maybe I'm just better at it than you," you quipped, knowing it would get under his skin. He narrowed his eyes, pretending to look insulted but deep down you knew he hated hearing it, joke or not.

"Oh, so that's how it is, huh?" he murmured before leaning in, his teeth grazing your neck in a playful nibble, a cross between a kiss and bite as his hands gripped you tighter. You squirmed, laughing, trying to wriggle free, but he was stronger than you and wouldn't let you go.

"Just admit I won," you teased, breathless from laughing, glancing up at him with a triumphant smile.

"Not a chance," he whispered, voice low as his face hovered inches from yours, his eyes full of that look that made your pulse race. "The game's postponed. We'll settle it later." He said deciding he just wanted to be with you for the moment, no games. He let his hold on you loosen, and you rolled your eyes with a grin. 

"Whatever you want, baby." You murmured, your voice warm and teasing. He stilled, his gaze softening as he took you in, as if hearing you calling him ‘baby’ for the first time. Colloquially. The look in his eyes made your stomach flip, a moment of quiet that felt far more intimate than any kiss or touch. With a hum of satisfaction, he pulled you in closer, one hand tracing down your back.

"I like the sound of that." His fingers gently pressed into your skin, grounding you in that moment, and his other hand reached up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You stayed wrapped up together, letting the night carry you in the warmth of each other's presence. Hours passed without notice, the jazz lulling softly in the background as you nestled closer, feeling his hand rest securely around you. His touch was soft, comforting, as if to say he wasn't in any rush to let go. The stars were bright overhead, and the crackling flames cast shadows over his face. Trent looked at you with a rare openness, a softness that made your chest ache in the best way. He pressed a kiss to your hair, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on you. You rested your head against his shoulder, your legs curled over his lap, feeling the strength of his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. Every so often, he'd lean down, brushing his lips against your temple or whispering something sweet that made your heart stutter. It felt like you were existing in your own little world, a pocket of warmth and comfort that was just for the two of you. The night stretched on, but neither of you felt any rush to move or break the spell. This wasn't just a thrill, or a secret-you could feel the weight of something genuine growing between you, something you were both beginning to understand couldn't be hidden forever.

Settling into Trent’s bed that night felt surreal—soft sheets, plush pillows, and the faint scent of him in the air made it feel luxurious, almost like a dream. Yet, there was that small tug of something missing, a sense of feeling a bit out of place amidst the perfection. You liked your routine, your things, that’s all. This was well,  it was his bed, his room, his world. You didn’t quite realize how it showed until Trent, lying beside you with a gentle smile, noticed it.

“I can tell you’re uncomfortable. What’s up?” he asked, his gaze soft but curious. You shook your head with a half-hearted laugh, trying to dismiss it. 

“I’m not uncomfortable… I just…” you trailed off, unable to find the words. But he shook his head, unconvinced. 

“Nah, baby, c’mon,” he coaxed, “alright. Tell me what you usually do before bed.” He rolled over and looked at you with a smile. At that, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Okay, so,” you started, tucking your hair behind your ear as you settled into explaining shuffling in the sheets.. “First thing’s first: I have to take off all my makeup. But that means using an oil cleanser first because it breaks everything down— mascara, everything. Then I use a second cleanser to really clean my skin. It’s called double cleansing.” You giggled as Trent nodded with a raised eyebrow, trying not to smile. 

“Double cleansing?” he echoed. “More than once seems like….” You widened your eyes silently asking to finish and continued on. 

“Trust me, it makes a difference because some of us don’t just wake up moisturize and go.” You teased and he rolled his eyes swiping his thumb over his cheekbone as if to show off his perfect skin. “But then I have to pat my face dry with specific towels or like disposable ones, you know? Like I can’t just be rubbing whatever to dry.” He leaned back, clearly amused but listening intently. You were pretty sure he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. 

“Okay, what’s next?” he asked, a playful grin on his face.

“Then it’s skincare time,” you declared. “I use a toner first.” Trent nodded but you knew he probably didn’t know what that meant. “After that, I have a few serums. Then… ” You cooed but Trent interjected. 

“A few!?” Trent’s eyes widened slightly. It was becoming evidently more and more clear he did not have a sister. A part of you laughed that you never realized how deep that fact ran and then a part of you felt a bit relieved this was the first time he seemed to be hearing this. The idea that any girl that had come before you had yet to explain this to him. 

“Yeah then we move to like eye creams, moisturizers next,” you explained and continued to rattle on with more. He looked impressed and bewildered at the same time. 

“That’s… a lot,” he said, but there was a note of affection in his voice that made you smile.

“And we’re not even done!” you pointed out. “After the skincare, I do my hair care. Apply some products for hydration. Oh and silk pillowcases are a must for both skin and hair. They’re gentler and prevent breakage.” Trent’s eyes sparkled with humor, but he nodded as if taking mental notes. 

“Alright, so we’ve got skin and hair. Anything else?” He smirked almost assuming you were done. 

“Obviously,” you said, feigning indignation. “Then I have to set up my room. I spray a lavender sleep mist onto my bed to help me relax, and I take my nighttime supplements—magnesium, a sleep aid if I need it, maybe some collagen.” You explained.

“Supplements too?” he repeated, clearly finding all of this fascinating. He had routines but it was more for optimizing performance and in a way you were doing just the same.

“Yep. And then I need like wattterrrs,” you explained dragging out the word, feeling more animated as you talked. “And sometimes, if I’m feeling really stressed, I’ll do a short guided meditation before bed. Just five to ten minutes to clear my mind.” Trent was leaning forward now, his chin resting in his hands grinning ear to ear. Trent started laughing, eyes wide with disbelief. 

“That’s like 15 steps, baby!” he exclaimed, shaking his head as if you’d told him the most extravagant bedtime routine on earth and maybe you had in his mind. You laughed along, shrugging. 

“Hey, you asked! Besides, don’t pretend you’re not just as high maintenance with all your Byredo lotions over there.” You smirked, nodding toward the sleek row of bottles lined on the counter in the ensuite. He rolled his eyes, giving a mock scoff. 

“Alright, alright… but that’s… that’s quite the process,” he said, his voice laced with teasing affection. “You really do all that every night?” You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended. 

“I mean I try to every single night! It’s called self-care, T. There’s more out there than just what the club tells you to do. You should try my routine sometime.”  You giggled teasing him. You knew he took really good care of himself but when it came to beauty he was more relaxed. He laughed, the sound filling the room.

“I don’t think I could handle all of that.” He smirked.  You couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the compliment. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Even if he didn’t fully understand each step, he was there, listening and appreciating the lengths you went to for your own well-being. And that made you feel seen in a way that was hard to explain. Still smiling, he grabbed his phone, opening his notes app. “Okay, baby… give me the names and brands. Everything you need for sleeping here.” Your heart fluttered at the gesture, so thoughtful and unexpected. You began listing each product, and he typed them with an almost serious focus, nodding as if he were taking notes on a game plan; Slip pillow cases, Tata Harper cleansers, Maison Francis mists, a 14th Night Hair Elixir. 

“You don’t actually have to do all this,” you murmured, feeling almost shy. But his hand found yours, and he squeezed it gently.

“I want you to feel comfortable here,” he said softly, looking at you with that easy, open sincerity. “Besides, if it’s gonna make you sleep better, then it’s worth it. Keeps you in my bed.” He cheekily cooed. The thoughtfulness left you feeling a mix of warmth and gratitude, a sense of belonging that surprised you. And as much as you adored the idea of your favorite products sitting in his bathroom, what you loved even more was this—him, making space for you in his world, in his home. It also felt nice to know it’d be like a warning should any other girl be over. This was your marking your territory.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, a smile playing on your lips. “Honestly, though… all I really need to feel at home is you.” He smiled, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you. 

“You’ve always felt like home to me.” He whispered back to you. Both of your admissions honest. The room was calm, the dim light casting soft shadows, and Trent’s fingers lazily traced patterns along your arm as you both settled into the cozy rhythm of conversation. The hum of street lights outside mixed with the soft rustling of sheets, making the entire moment feel even more intimate. Even after Trent finished noting down your list, he looked over with a smirk, still visibly amused by the whole process.  “So, am I missing anything? Or do we need to add a couple more things for this routine?”

“Oh, don’t even start,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “You wouldn’t understand—it’s just habitual; it’s so I can look pretty.” You batted your eyes at him. He laughed, tipping his head back, the sound warm and rich. 

“Well… you always look beautiful. Don’t think you need all this but, consider me converted if it makes you happy,” he said, miming a solemn vow. “But seriously, I’ll get it, alright? It’s not just about making you feel at home—it’s about you being at home here, whenever you want.” The sincerity in his words made your cheeks warm. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would feel like for this to be your regular night: no need to pack an overnight bag, no sneaking in and out, just… this, every night. You snuggled deeper into his embrace, the weight of his arm draped protectively around you making everything feel somehow complete. He noticed the pensive look on your face and tilted his head, studying you. “What’re you thinking about?”

“It’s just… weird, you know? I didn’t expect it to feel this comfortable here.” You hesitated, then smiled softly. “I thought it would feel… wrong.” He ran his hand gently up and down your back, pulling you even closer. It was wrong. It was wrong what you were doing to Jack, but this? This felt very right. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But I also knew it’d be good. You and I have always been good. I want it to feel easy. Want you to feel like you don’t have to hide anything when we’re here or feel out of place here.” His voice was low, soothing, and he spoke as if he were letting you in on some quiet, long-held secret. He reached over, smoothing a strand of hair away from your face, fingers lingering as he looked into your eyes with that calm, unwavering gaze of his. “I know we’re figuring things out, and it might be complicated but it doesn’t have to be here. We’re good here,” he said softly, his hand resting gently on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, heart beating a little faster. 

“You really mean that?” you whispered, almost afraid of his answer.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice steady. “I think we’re pretty damn good together.” He smirked. For a moment, the silence between you was filled with unspoken words, a warmth passing between you that felt equal parts thrilling and comforting. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and smiled, nestling closer to him.

“Okay,” you murmured, settling fully into the pillow beside him, letting his steady breathing and the soft glow of his gaze ground you. The weight of his arm around you felt like an anchor, keeping you steady even as your mind whirled with thoughts of what this meant, of what you meant to him. He pulled you even closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“So… really, pretty girl, any final steps in this ritual of yours? Any last ones?” he teased, breaking the quiet moment with a playful glint in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, laughing. 

“Alright, alright, since you’re so curious… And I’m generous, I guess I could share the one I never even leave home without.” You reached over, awkwardly leaning to grab your lip balm you’d already moved to the nightstand earlier to have on hand. It was a lip balm you brought with you everywhere, so tonight was no different. It was a rich Hermes lip balm. Nothing made your lips feel more well-hydrated, supple or better than this. You applied a layer to your own lips before leaning in, catching him with a soft kiss that tasted faintly of beeswax.

“There, now you’re officially a part of my routine,” you said, grinning. He shook his head, still chuckling, his fingers tracing along your jaw as he pulled you in for another kiss. 

“If this is how the routine ends, I’m in.” And in that moment, with the warmth of his arms around you, the soft glow of the lights outside, and the quiet thrill of realizing just how natural this all felt, you let yourself settle fully into the moment. Trent leaned over you and grabbed the sleek tube again. “You think the lads would take the mick if I rolled around using Hermes lip balm? Because this actually feels so good.” He asked you earnestly. You smirked knowing the answer would likely be yes but you just hummed. 

“Does it? Or was it my kiss?” You teased. “Nah, you could use it though. If you’d want you can take this one. I’ll get another one.” You cooed, pressing your lips to his again. Trent nodded agreeing. And he did. You let him take it the next day. But that night you fell to sleep happy, lips moisturized, and all the worries and doubts fading into the background, leaving just you and him, here together, finding home in each other.

As you bounded down the stairs, practically buzzing with excitement, you were already mentally at Trent’s, imagining the quiet moments you’d get to have again, just the two of you for another night. You’d been doing this a lot. Hiding it all from everyone but reveling in the time tucked together. Your heart raced as you went through the plan in your head—another night wrapped up in his arms, laughing, teasing, letting everything else fall away. But Jack’s voice cut through your daydreams, grounding you in an instant.

“Hey, you headed out? Who’s the lucky lad now?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes studying you closely. Your heart skipped, a blend of panic and guilt washing over you. You were sure he’d started to suspect something, especially with all the time you’d been spending away. Swallowing hard, you tried for a casual response. You didn’t think he’d even be considering Trent, but it was clear you were spending a lot of time ‘out’ with someone. No matter, lying to Jack… Jack, your big brother, your best friend; though you’d never tell Layla that, it all felt so wrong. 

“Yeah, but I don’t want to jinx it, you know? Not yet,” you said with a soft smile, hoping he’d leave it at that. But Jack wasn’t one to let things slide easily. He just hummed, giving you a long, knowing look. Then, with a gentleness that caught you off guard, he spoke again. 

“Hey…” he started, and you could hear the tenderness in his voice. “I’ve never seen you like this before.” He sympathetically smiled. 

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, surprised

“I mean, there’s a light in you that I haven’t seen in a while. It’s good to see it again.” His eyes softened, a mix of pride and love filling his gaze. “I don’t know what this lad’s doing, but whatever it is, it’s bringing out the best in you. Look happier. Healthier.” A rush of emotion swelled in your chest, catching you off guard. The tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them, and you looked away, trying to compose yourself. Jack noticed, stepping forward and wrapping you in one of those big, protective hugs he was so good at. You felt the familiar strength of his arms around you, his hand gently rubbing your back as he held you close. “I just want you happy,” he murmured into your hair, and the raw honesty in his voice almost broke you. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I told Mum and Dad I’d look out for you, you know?” His voice was low, laced with the memories and promises you both had carried for years. You felt horrible. You were lying. Why were you lying? “I know I can be a pain sometimes, but… I don’t want you being with anyone that treats you like…” Jack tried to say it but he couldn’t. Jack was protective, loving but as communicative and close as you two were he just couldn’t stomach the idea of men treating you poorly so he couldn’t get the words out. “You deserve to be loved, to feel safe, that’s all.” Jack was the only place you felt safe since your mum passed. Your dad closed off and Jack stepped up. You shut your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into you. There were times when a hug from Jack felt like it held everything you missed, everything you longed for—comfort, security, family. It was a rare, grounding feeling, and one that made you ache with a strange blend of gratitude and sadness. Pulling back just enough to look at you, Jack brushed his hand over your cheek, a soft smile on his lips. “Maybe we go to Sefton Park sometime soon?” he suggested. “Just us, like old times. Feels like we’re missing each other lately. Never see you.” He smiled softly and it made your heart ache. The weight of his words settled in your chest, and you managed a nod, blinking back the tears that had filled your eyes. You felt his arm tighten around you for a second, and he chuckled softly. “And… maybe one day you can introduce me to this fella. He seems alright, if he’s making you this happy.” His words hit harder than you expected, the guilt flaring up in your chest as you forced a smile. 

“Yeah… maybe.” You sheepishly told him feeling nauseous at the idea that Jack knew this ‘fella’ better than he probably ever wanted to.  Jack gave you a gentle squeeze, reaching to teasingly pull on the ends of your hair like he used to when you were kids. 

“Alright, go on then. Don’t keep him waiting. Don’t fuck it up now.” He winked, letting you go, but the warmth in his eyes stayed with you. As you walked to the door, your heart hurt, the weight of your secret feeling heavier with each step. The excitement of seeing Trent was still there, humming in the back of your mind, but Jack’s words lingered. You felt torn, a part of you wanting to spill everything to your brother, to let him see the whole truth. But as you got outside, you forced yourself to push it all away. For now, you just wanted to hold onto the happiness Jack had seen in you. You wanted to be with Trent, to laugh, to feel that lightness and warmth without the shadow of guilt hanging over you. And even if it was only for a night, you let yourself believe that was enough.

When morning rolled in, you were tucked into the sheets, the soft weight of the comforter keeping you warm as you dozed off, half-conscious of Trent beside you. The light filtered in through the blinds, illuminating the room in a golden haze, and you felt a deep contentment, drifting in that hazy, relaxed state between sleep and wakefulness. But then you felt the bed shift as Trent sat up more. You looked around Trent’s room, feeling oddly out of place though, despite how many times you had now woken up tangled in his sheets, wrapped up in the ease and warmth he offered. Today, though, it felt different. Your lies seeping in the warmth.  The room, with its familiar scent of him, his things strewn about casually, almost felt like a stage where you were playing a part you couldn’t reveal. It was strange, bittersweet, this cozy little world of yours that felt so real here but that would eventually dissolve the moment you stepped back into your life with Jack.

“Hi, baby,” you murmured, blinking up at him, a sleepy smile spreading across your face trying to be present and not get lost in your thoughts. You scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and nestling into him. He gave a soft chuckle, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Hi, pretty girl.” He leaned down, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, I need you to stay in bed for me for a bit, yeah?” he said, his tone gentle but somehow cautious. You raised an eyebrow, pulling back to look at him more closely, half-expecting it to be some cheeky invitation. 

“Stay in bed?” you teased, smiling as you placed a playful kiss on his chest. But then he spoke again, and you caught the slight edge in his voice.

“Yeah, erm… Jack’s popping over,” he said, watching you carefully. It was like a cold wave washed over you, jolting you fully awake. You immediately pushed yourself up, heart racing. 

“Wait—what?” You scrambled, trying to pull yourself together, suddenly very aware that you were in Trent’s bed, in his house, wearing only his shirt. Trent had forgotten Jack was swinging by today until he got the text moments ago reminding him. He had promised he’d donate a pair of signed boots or something for Jack’s company to auction off for charity and today… he was coming to pick them up. 

“I forgot. Honest. It’ll be alright though.” He tried to tell you. This could not keep happening. You couldn’t tell which situation was worse. Jack finding out the other day - Trent was fucking you at your house, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to be there… Or Jack finding out now - You weren’t having sex as he came over but there was zero reason for you to be at Trent’s this early. There would be no excuse. You couldn’t keep lying to Jack this was eating you up. One mildly redeeming thought popped into your head – thankfully, your car was in Trent’s garage out of sight. It was tucked away though because Trent told you, you needed to take better care of it and can’t just leave it out all the time but still your anxiety was spiking.  

“T, then I have to leave!” you hissed, frantically looking around for how you could possibly grab all your things in time. You could already feel the guilt bubbling up inside, imagining Jack’s reaction if he walked in and found you here. But Trent just reached out, gently tugging you back, his arms wrapping around you, grounding you.

“Hey, hey. Relax, yeah? Just stay here. He’s not coming up into my bed,” he murmured, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’ll be five minutes. He’s just coming by to pick something up. Quick, in and out. We’ll be okay.”  You looked up at him, worried, still tense. 

“Trent…” you began, but he only gave you a soft, reassuring smile, his eyes full of that easy confidence he always seemed to carry.

“Please. Just stay here. It’ll be okay,” he murmured, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that you could never say no to. You sighed, settling back into his embrace, heart still hammering as you heard Jack’s car pull up outside. To be fair, it made more sense for you to hide but it felt even more shameful to do. Part of you wanted to pull the covers over your head, to hide and pretend this wasn’t happening. Instead, you sat tensely in bed, listening as Trent slipped downstairs, his voice echoing faintly as he greeted Jack. You could hear their friendly banter, and it twisted your stomach with guilt. You knew it was wrong to keep this from Jack, but the thought of losing these moments with Trent was just as hard. 

You sat there, still, hands nervously fidgeting as you heard their voices drifting up from downstairs. Jack’s laughter mixed with Trent’s lighter chuckle, and it churned something inside you—a pang of guilt mixed with a longing for this to be simpler, to be something you could share without worry. But for now, the thrill of sneaking around was overshadowed by the weight of keeping this secret from Jack, from the one person who’d seen you through everything, helped you through everything. But still, hearing Jack’s voice below reminded you of the stakes, of how much you valued him, his trust, and how deeply you felt the need to protect this secret with Trent—even if it meant bending the truth. You picked at the hem of Trent’s shirt, which felt soft and familiar against your skin. There was something comforting in wearing a part of him, yet it also made everything feel painfully real. This wasn’t just some fling. You knew it every time you looked into Trent’s eyes, every time he pulled you into his arms like he didn’t want to let go. And then you heard the front door close,  there was silence for a little while until footsteps came up the stairs breaking it. You held your breath, half-wishing you could vanish into the walls. When Trent finally walked back in, you met his gaze, searching his face for some reassurance that you weren’t just imagining this, that he understood the complicated feelings swirling inside you. When Trent came back into the room, you’d moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his shirt still draped over you, your hands fidgeting nervously, his face softening as he noticed the tension in your posture. He gave you a soft smile, walking over and tilting your chin up so you’d meet his eyes.

“Hey. All good, yeah?” he murmured, his voice gentle. He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, and you let yourself breathe again, slowly, finding comfort in his touch. You nodded, exhaling as you managed a small smile, letting yourself relax into him. 

“I just… I hate lying to him, Trent. It feels so messed up.” You let out a shaky breath, relief mingling with guilt. Trent knelt down in front of you, his hands finding yours. 

“I know, and I get it,” he said softly, his thumbs tracing slow circles on your skin. “But it’s just us right now. And whatever this is,” he squeezed your hands, “I want it to be ours before it’s anyone else’s. Jack will understand that.” His words settled over you like a warm blanket, grounding you in the certainty you felt with him. The guilt didn’t completely vanish, but his reassurance made it bearable, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could navigate this without losing what mattered. “You okay?” he asked, his gaze unwavering, full of that soft patience he always seemed to have for you. He came and sat on the bed with you. Keeping a cautious distance not wanting to overwhelm you but a gentle open hand close ready to hold yours if you wanted it.  You sat across from Trent, fingers nervously fidgeting in your lap, your gaze low as you struggled to put words to the feeling that had been building up inside.

 “I just… I feel so guilty, lying to Jack all the time. T, it’s fucked,” you whispered repeating it once over, barely able to meet Trent’s eyes. Trent’s expression softened, and he took your hands in his, his touch grounding. 

“I know,” he murmured, squeezing your hands gently. “I feel it too. But it’s like… I can’t let this go. I can’t let you go. It’s… “ He paused momentarily, grappling with this almost as much as you. “It’s hard to feel like we can have both.” He cooed. You looked up at him, eyes searching his for something, maybe an answer, but all you found was a mirrored sense of conflict. 

“I want this,” you admitted, your voice a little choked. “I want you. But I don’t know how to make it work. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, terrified of falling in either direction.” You sniffled, trying to keep your emotions in check. He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze intense, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he lifted one of your hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hide us either, but I also don’t want to put you in the middle.” The two of you sat there, wrapped in a silence that felt heavy, a quiet admission of the fears you shared but couldn’t quite voice. You could feel the ache in your chest intensify, a lump rising in your throat as the weight of it pressed on you. You blinked, feeling a tear slip free despite your attempts to keep it together. Trent’s gaze softened immediately. “Hey, baby” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush the tear from your cheek. “Are you alright?” he asked, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. “Talk to me. I know this is a lot.” You tried to smile, to reassure him, but it faltered, and instead, more tears followed, spilling over as you let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling raw, exposed. “It’s just… Jack’s all I have. And I’m terrified that by being with you, by hiding this from him, I’m going to somehow lose both of you.” Your voice broke, and you quickly wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed by your own vulnerability. Trent’s expression shifted, a deep sympathy filling his eyes as he moved closer, pulling you into his arms. He wrapped you up tightly, holding you like he could somehow protect you from all the things that felt like they were slipping away.

“You could never lose me,” he whispered, his voice steady, almost as if he was willing it to be true, willing it to ease the fear in your heart. You leaned into him, feeling his arms around you, his steady presence a balm to the ache that had been building. But the silence that followed his words weighed heavily, filled with all the things neither of you could find a way to say. You let out a shaky breath, burying your face in his shoulder, feeling both comforted and conflicted in his embrace. After a moment, Trent pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re all I think about,” he said softly, a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart ache in a different way. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose, and I don’t want you to feel alone in this.” You nodded, but the weight of the situation lingered. A part of you wanted so badly to believe that his reassurance was enough, that you wouldn’t have to choose, that you could keep this connection with Trent without losing your relationship with Jack. But doubt gnawed at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were balancing on a thin line, one misstep away from losing it all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, Trent tilted your chin up, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “You’ll never lose me, no matter what happens” he repeated softly, his words a gentle promise. But something about the quiet that followed felt almost uncertain, as if he, too, knew how fragile everything was. Neither of you knew what would come next, and as he held you, the silence stretched, filled with both comfort and unspoken fears.In that moment, you held on tighter, hoping it would be enough to keep things from unraveling.

“Okay.” You nodded, managing a small smile as you squeezed his hands back. He smiled, his eyes brightening as he pulled you to your feet and into his arms. 

“Always, always, always” he murmured against your hair, between kisses, holding you close as you melted into him. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in his arms, finding strength in his steady heartbeat, letting yourself believe that somehow, everything would work out. While your brain was spiraling, Trent’s heart hurt just the same. He felt like a scumbag for lying to Jack, for being with you. But he also felt like for the first time he was properly falling for you, getting to know you in a way he’d always longed for.  He couldn’t just throw it all away now, now that  he had a taste. He was putting up a good front though holding you, telling you it was fine. It was hard, but fine, but he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t saying that to himself even more. He wasn’t sure he could stomach a fall out with you or Jack. 

One afternoon after things stayed as they were, Trent casually reached into his pocket, pulling out the sleek little tube of lip balm, twisting it open with the practiced ease of someone who’d clearly used it more than a few times. He applied a quick swipe to his lips, completely unaware of the attention it was drawing. Noah noticed first, his brows raising in surprise before he nudged Jack, nodding subtly toward Trent. Jack caught sight of the lip balm and immediately burst into laughter. 

“Bro…” he said, still chuckling, “pretty sure my sister uses that shit.”

“Yeah? What about it?” Trent glanced over, unbothered. Noah shook his head, grinning. 

“Mate, good thing you’ve got that contract lined up. What’re you doing spending pounds on… what is that? Lipstick? ‘Cause it isn’t Nivia innit?” he teased, exaggerating. Trent rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“First off, it’s a balm. Second, it’s moisturizing, and it’s not shiny or anything, so you lot can calm down.” Noah and Jack exchanged a look, both stifling laughs. 

“Alright, alright, Pretty Boy,” Jack teased, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Just saying, Y/N buying Hermes chapstick is one thing… You? That’s mad.” Noah laughed. Unphased, Trent shrugged, narrowing his gaze on him.

“You ever see Y/N’s lips looking dry?” He held up the balm, grinning. Noah shook his head.  

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly looking, am I?” Noah chuckled, clearly having fun with it. Trent just shrugged again, refusing to give them the satisfaction of riling him up. 

“Just saying,” he replied smoothly. “You can keep laughing, but I’m the one not walking around with dry lips. Yours could use a little help, mate,” he joked, nodding toward Noah, who chuckled. Jack shook his head, still laughing. 

“Alright, fair play,” Noah shot back, grinning. “But careful, next thing you’ll be raiding her entire collection.” Jack just laughed, shaking his head. 

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’re actually using the same shit as my sister.” Jack said. Trent smirked, tucking the balm back into his pocket with a satisfied look. 

“Gotta keep up, don’t I?” he replied, unbothered. “She knows what she’s doing.” Noah and Jack looked at each other knowingly queuing up a joke. Trent rolled his eyes, already sensing the teasing wouldn’t let up anytime soon. But he leaned back on the couch with a smirk thinking of you and your lips.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 7 xx

[enigmaticfossil]

Something irking me in this fandom is the constant arguments over Link’s age. This series has been my special interest for a good 25 years so I guess I feel like rambling a little.

There are massive discrepancies in the logic of supposed “canon” references. And even Nintendo, for example, through interviews and written word has said that Link was 9, 10 or 12 in OOT (adult link still qualifies as a child in my eyes since his body was aged 7 years, not his mind).

(Small addition, though I’m aware LOZ is fictional and the world is fantasy, Japan has had a law stating the age of adulthood as 20 since 1896, only recently changed to 18 this year. It does beg to question the concept of “adulthood” in this fictional world and how the people of Hyrule see age. Especially with the longevity of many races.)

Or if you look at Wind Waker, where it states in game his character is the age of the legendary hero which, at the time of release, seemed to reference OOT, we assume he’s one of those ages. But both the amiibo & a statement from Nintendo said he was 12 years old.

Okay—so OOT Link is 12? Still fits, since he hasn’t reached his teens. BUT also, the WW timeline takes place after Link defeats Ganondorf in the 7 year time skip—which he appeared to do as an adult between 16-19, as that is what he is legendary for. And he “disappeared” because he went back to his own time so he wasn’t there to stop what happened.

And again, if their timeline is correct, The Adventure of Link takes place 6 years after OOT, chronologically. Nintendo claims he was 16 in that game.

Making the 9/10 year old OOT Link supposedly accurate, despite the WW claims. Especially if we consider Majora’s Mask Link is the same or, at most, year older than his OOT counterpart.

In ALttP Zelda is 16, and since Link is typically “close” to her in age (it has never said the same age) we can assume he’s anywhere between 16-18, even then 16-17 seems more likely. Which says that in the follow up games he’s around that age too, probably aging up a year or two.

And while we can use things like Toon Link’s model to guess he’s the same or similar age in all Toon Link games, making the 12 year old hero predating OOT in Minish Cap, the “on model” solution doesn’t work for the 5-6 year time skip of BOTW-TOTK. In BOTW we can GUESS that Link is close to Zelda’s age, but that can still range from 17–18 years old at least, depending on what Nintendo deems as “close”.

And according to yet ANOTHER source, Twilight Princess Zelda is 20, and based off of an interview, Link is 17…so what does the unwritten “Link and Zelda are always close in age” rule imply?

Interviews, guides, the games and even the Historia conflict over and over again. These are just a handful of examples that I remember and poked around to verify again.

I’m not saying there aren’t canon instances of Link being CLEARLY a child or CLEARLY an adult or adult-adjacent (what Nintendo deems as adult in these games is convoluted sometimes), and those are important factors. But he’s also meant to be an immersion from player to the game.

Nintendo retcons nearly everything they’ve said or done, and theorizing by following one answer or another is fun, and having Zelda gives us a range to often put an age that’s close to accurate for him. It’s even more interesting to dive into these discrepancies that are just going to exist, Nintendo wrote the stories as they went and that’s okay! It’s fun that they’re trying to tie them all together, inconsistencies or not it’s still an amazing story.

Link is a character many of us literally grew up with, saw or ourselves, as we opened whichever game sparked our interest to start our adventures into this crazy series of wonderful, and magical games!

[loveanddeepspice]

I'll say it, I'm sick of seeing "we don't need a male MC"

"This is a game for women."

If you really want to see it that way, that's fine. I'm not trying to say that women don't deserve things that are just for them. If anything, they deserve it more than others do.

But, like, hear me out.

Out of respect for others, I won't be posting screenshots or anything like that. Last night, I came across a post of someone in the fandom sharing what they filled out in the in-game survey. Someone else commented that they would love to have a male MC.

There was a comment to that comment basically bashing this person about LADS being a game for women; that's the whole point of Otome, the game being targeted towards women, and how they should just leave the game for women alone.

I've seen arguments regarding gender in other fandoms before, so I want to give my two cents on why I think this is a stupid argument, while trying to be respectful.

I am a CIS woman. I have had crushes on men, women, non-binary, and people who haven't identified themselves. While labels aren't something I consider for myself, I usually tell people to see me as demi-pansexual.

I think it's stupid that people are bashing the idea of a male MC because it's not about gender. It's about the character. It's about interpretation and perspective. I feel like if the person/people who were bashing this idea actually took a step back, they would see that.

Sure, the idea of an Otome game targets women, but that doesn't mean anyone can't enjoy it. And if you're a straight woman, there's no harm in enjoying a game where you don't have romantic options and play as a male, right? So what's the big deal?

To put it simply, it's about the character. It's about having something you can connect to.

Take this with a grain of salt, as I never played a game like this before. And I am not trying to say that women shouldn't have things 'just for them' or anything like that. All I'm trying to say is that we should accept that everyone is different, and that people can still have fun with these types of games without bashing the idea of the game possibly being targeted towards both genders. Of people making male OC's and or seeing their MC as a different gender in their head, or having no gender, or purple skin, or being from Reno - whatever it may be. As long as it doesn't hurt anybody else, it's fine.

But imagine the game having a male MC option. How much would it grow? There would be so many more people who could get into the fandom.

Now, don't all @ me at once. At the end of the day, it's about people feeling safe and accepted in fandom spaces. Not everyone has that in real life.

[comicalfont]

Undertale is for Everyone

Happy Valentine's Day! Yesterday marked five years since the day I first started playing Undertale. It's led me to dwell on what exactly I would say the game has meant to me, with how loaded a question that is. There's so much I owe to Undertale, and the joy it's brought me is something everyone is as deserving to be a part of. Despite some recent fandom events, all members of the fandom need to know that the game celebrates and welcomes them with open arms, which I'll get to more in a bit.

I first played Undertale at a period in my life with a lot of unanswered questions, both for present me and future me. I'd managed to not give it a try in the first few years it was around, but after running into enough Deltarune fan content in the wild when it came out, I played Chapter 1 and loved every bit of the atmosphere and characters, and I wanted to play Undertale right after. After accidentally killing Toriel and starting over, I was immediately drawn into the story it told and the friendships I was making. My appreciation of Sans was there from the start, and here I am, many reader fics with him later, and the rest of the main gang felt like buds I'd been hoping to meet some day. Even the minor characters meant so much to the journey, and by the time it was done and I'd seen what Frisk/the player's kindness and want for peace can do, I was completely hooked and the game rented a free condo in my brain.

What I wasn't expecting was the other ways Undertale's touched my life. I'm trans, and before I'd played, it had only really been associated with discomfort and a wish for things to be better, without much of a light at the end of the tunnel to look at. Undertale's queer-friendly themes and the characters' insistence on being themselves opened me up to thinking about a future where my own kindness and, well, determination can lead me to being the true me. While my trans story was far from done, it helped me see the future as something I can smile about, rather than needing to be afraid. The fics that I've written about Undertale, and especially the bone-friend, since I played have also led me to meet the people I consider my closest friends, as well as being a gateway to other fandoms that have captured my interest. These connections I've made through the game are ones I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

So, where am I going with all this? Undertale has invited me into a better path than the one I'd been taking, and that's an opportunity I'll forever be grateful for. Unfortunately, there are some in the fandom space who have shared hateful views about people simply for who they are, and everyone should know how far those views are from the truth. Undertale is a game about love and growth, and it is the responsibility of those who participate in its community to follow its footsteps and celebrate everyone for their traits; not just tolerate, but celebrate. For fellow trans people in particular, I've been thinking about this the most; you are real men, real women, and real non-binary identities, and all of those things are represented in Undertale itself. Celebrating trans lives isn't just the right thing to do, it's a part of this wonderful game we're all enjoying together.

Maybe this reaches just two people, or twenty, or more if I'm lucky, but whoever does read this far, thank you for taking the time to see how much Undertale has meant to me over these five years, and I hope you know how much you mean to the community. We're all making it a better place by being ourselves, and I hope the game keeps lifting people up for many years to come. Now, go read that new volume of the Undertale/Deltarune Newsletter!

[just-another-star-47]

The next MC I wanted to draw is Damien Evans from @theladyofshalott1989 because firstly she is one of the most lovely and kind hearted people I met in this fandom and secondly because Damien is a well crafted and thought-out character, that I hope to get to know even better, by reading his story.

While sketching I had a lot of time to reflect on certain things, think about what I read and I want to share some of these thoughts.

I always thought, the main reason why I never came across drama regarding my person was, that I'm not that big and only interact with posts from people I hold dearly to my heart.

But to be honest, now thinking about it, it's probably because of what I write as well. Over a year ago, I started to create f!MCxSebastian snippets, because at that time I found huge comfort in it (still do). It helped me to write Sebastian as my personal comfort character and find some sort of healing in the interactions I wrote with him.

Even though I write more for the love of the world and characters now, there is still some kind of healing process in it, using my MC as an abstraction of my own trauma.

But that's not the point. The point is: I want everyone to be able to seek comfort in the HL characters and their world by creating things that benefits them. And it makes me sick, that because of some ignoramuses some people are kept from experiences this. Everyone deserves to create MCs to their liking, write stories to their liking, just create to their hearts desire. To heal, to find comfort, to have fun.

What kind of person are you, to want to take that away from someone, just because you personally don't like it?

A fandom should be about listening to each other, accepting that everyone deals with life differently and enjoys different things. I think the HL fandom is rather small, which could be such a good opportunity to create a safe space, to connect easily and lift each other up.

It's not for making other people feel bad because your own life is shitty right now and you're unhappy with yourself. In that case: write, draw, create, go to therapy. Do something to change yourself and leave other people alone. You're welcome again, if you are able to reflect on your behaviour and show empathy. Unless then, get out!

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Non BL Fan watches Only Friends - Part III (Part I) (Part II)

So Neely finished Only Friends. To say they didn't enjoy it would be a massive understatement. So much so, that I ended up feeling guilty for persuading them to watch it. Which is silly of course, as they kept reminding me, but I can't help it. If anyone manages to read all of this you'll understand. They did enjoy writing about it though, specially in a more casual tone than they're used to. They wrote as soon as they finished so it's kinda raw and personal because of their own personal feelings. i always check with them before I post to make sure they're okay with everything, and they were. There's a freedom about writing from a personal place when you don't know who's gonna read it, that even though this space is anonymous always gives me pause and stopped me from writing about this show. They didn't have such concerns.

Because this is the last one, it's the longest one, so just skip to the conclusion for a broader view on the show as a whole.

Neely's final thoughts on Only Friends

I think it’s worth to preface whatever is coming next here by saying I think I am in general, and specifically at the moment, for personal reasons, particularly sensitive to coupledom and the social pressures to belonging in one. This feels relevant to preface, because it has been the main thing that kept reverting back to me during my time watching the series. It felt almost like it was punishing me as I watched it. This was the thing that, despite not really connecting so deeply with any of the characters, made me shed a tear at the end of the last episode, as everyone celebrated their built Hostel, and the scorned-slut doesn’t even deserve a passing mention. Boston was erased, made completely invisible, he left no mark, he was the rock that fell in the centre of the lake and there were no ripples, because he refused to assimilate.

And, just like him, I didn’t belong either, no part of the moral and main journey of this story was for me. It made it very clear why, and how, they thought I deserved to be excluded. It wasn’t like the world was there but I didn’t quite find my place, wasn’t like I couldn’t connect but I was welcome to try to, it wasn’t awkward in that way; it was more like I was very purposefully being denied access to it. It wasn’t the awkwardness of being in a new place and not quite fitting in, it was a fairly explicit violence of “we do not want you here”. And I know Boston was a horrible character, the villain, there was pretty much nothing he did right over the course of this, and with that, he did deserve some sort of punishment, we could argue he did deserve to be fully left out. But I’m more concerned with who created and wrote him, who also created and wrote the other characters, and why this is where we end up, why it was decided that Boston was the one person that did not deserve to exist and repent in this Universe. He was incurable. The cruelty of the hostel they’ve built together, and the series itself, being called Only Friends, and ending with this really pointed exclusion - it floored me. He’s not a friend, because he’s a slut. It’s such a harsh, morally-superior ending; I felt stepped and spat on. But I have to say, it did not surprise me in the slightest, as this is the world they’ve carefully built throughout the 12 episodes. The cherry on top being that Jennie and her partner have been made part of the group. The slut is cleansed and a new couple enters. Could we be more obvious, writers? And this, not to get all political, is honestly one of the most unqueer messages a show could wrap itself in.

Boston: I will start here since I mentioned him, but I don’t really know what to say. But also just typing this first sentence, I know it’s gonna be the longest section. I think it’s careless, problematic, deeply biased, I wanna even say dangerous, to write a character in this way. To explicitly say: this is the one person in our world that deserves no redemption, that will have no opportunity to repent, that deserves no future.

It wasn’t enough that he went after Top from the start, when that story line was exhausted and culminated, what do we do with him? How could we make him get even worse? How can we punish him even further for his ways? - Oh, make him have sex with a friend’s younger brother.

Why was that storyline even there, aside from just hammering even more into the audience that slut=bad? Brother didn’t even matter beforehand, he was written fully into the show to come and tell us how bad Boston is. Yes, Brother lied, and we get a mild relief that we are not going to go with Boston as a criminal, but to follow fucking your friends Boyfriend with fucking your friends younger brother, consensually or not, is a bad bad move. And the show is telling us: bad bad slut, sluts are bad bad. And the show does this without ever giving us a context for why he is so careless, why he keeps fucking up - because that doesn’t matter in this world.

In this universe, in Boston’s case alone, past trauma or situations don’t matter, his biggest sin is being a slut (which as I said about the 4 past episodes, isn’t even a good word to describe him). Top get’s a more or less fleshed out fire trauma, Ray gets a consistent referring back to dead mother and complicated family; Boston we know is in the closet to his family, and is stressed about protecting his dad’s campaign, but never does the show try to use this to justify his behaviour like it does with the other characters traumas and backgrounds. For the show, it’s enough that Boston is a slut; for that fact alone, he deserves being written as culprit into almost every single horrible act contained in this series. After all of this, and after being completely shunned by his friend group and ending completely alone, he gets 20minutes of being shown to us as a person with feelings, with emotions, with struggles and remorse (BUT ONLY WITHIN A ROMANTIC PAIR, cause this is the sole context in this universe where one can truly exist); but not for long, don’t forget he is a slut - and what are sluts? BAD BAD - of course he will lie to Nick and literally hook up with someone (i refuse to acknowledge that ridiculous characters existence) DURING their date. I just found this disgusting, kinda revolting, and it’s genuinely been a while that I’ve felt so upset at a media portrayal. My hopes for media portrayals of queerness isn’t very high, but Boston - wow. It is heartbreaking to think that even queer creators think of us in this way. There were very faint moments I found endearing in the short stint of his relationship with Nick. Such as their conversation in the bench, after Boston cheats with Boeing (don’t get me started on this lazy-ass-writing-slutty-exboyfriend-deus-exmachina insert…….) it hinted ever so slightly at who Boston is - that he has opened himself to romance but potentially wants an open relationship; and I think Nick’s reaction wasn’t judgemental, but just well practiced boundaries, which the character needed. “it’s cool this is who you are, but this is not who I am”. We could’ve had that earlier, as part of a wider Boston redemption plot, but again.. slut=bad, no redemption possible. But they kinda closed their connection okay, I guess. With the friends, he is not even fully given a shot at apologizing. We get a really crushing goodbye scene where he is allowed in one last time, but where very clearly he is left out socially and emotionally. The single one in the group, whereas the others have found their final destination in coupledom. Their memories as friends don’t matter to shit, their whole lives together until that moment don’t matter to shit. Boston doesn’t belong anymore, he’s been deleted and made invisible already - and the reason he doesn’t isn’t due what he did: Top was given time and space to repent, Chueam has forgiven Boston for the brother situation, Ray has been absolved, even Sand has forgiven Top, everyone that has now paired-up deserves forgiving. But Boston, nope. Boston is not being judged and put aside based on his betrayals and mistakes. As it is reminded to us, by showing Boston messaging Nick, Boston doesn’t belong because he has refused to partner up. Everyone has moved-on, ascended, to their coupled-up states, and Boston, the selfish, egocentric, with no feelings or care for anyone, has refused to: so he has to go. Once again, romance is given all the avenues to repent itself, to reinvent itself, to flourish and last in the face of all mistakes; but friendship is disposable. A whole life of friendship that doesn’t even deserve an honest conversation in an attempt at forgiveness (Boston) VS a few weeks or months of dating that deserved all the space to repent itself (Top).

As I watched this scene, I just kept thinking how, had Boston accepted monogamy with Nick, this whole group dynamic would be different. They would’ve been laughing all together, Boston wouldn’t have been left out awkwardly checking his phone. I am almost sure even that Mew would’ve accepted Boston’s apology, and given him time to re-gain his trust. Because if tamed by a relationship with Nick, Boston could be trusted to not jump on Top. But single, and slutty, he is a danger to be controlled and never trusted. slut=bad, never forget. So, closing on Boston, I just really hope he is happy in NYC, and hope he has managed to escape the totalitarian puritan prison the writers have set this universe in.

Nick: shortly…I wasn’t a fan of him going back to Boston for that period, but I do think generally he had a good character growth. Probably the most meaningful character growth for me, due to ending up alone, and having set such good boundaries with Boston which was his biggest weakness. All the other character growths are very weirdly edged into promises to their loved ones, and they generally feel less honest and less long lasting to me, but Nick felt like he really grew and learned for himself. And I was happy for him. He deserved that. (side-note: what happened to the older boss he was boyfriends with for a moment? It was weird how he just disappeared. I’m happy they gave Nick time to be single and think about his needs and wants as a solo person. I really didn’t expect that from the show, I thought they would clump him into some happy half-arsed relationship with this boss. But this said, Nick did basically take two boyfriends at once, we weren’t given a scene in which he talks to the other guy, so I would like to know what happened, did Nick just ghost this guy after saying they’re together?) AND THE SHOW SHOULD’VE HAD SO MUCH MORE SCENES LIKE NICK AND SAND CAMPING!! Honestly these two were the only friendship shown on screen, they were so endearing, and every small moment we got of them interacting as friends was when the show felt genuine and loving. Of course the show had to interrupt this with the unexpected and unboundaried arrival of RayMANCE.

Sand & Ray: Listen I’ve gotta stan them because otherwise I will just hate everything. I think they are sweet together, they are the only chemistry I could genuinely feel, the way they communicate is amazing, and Sand is the cutest. They’re the couple goals for me in this series.

But I’m not happy with these last 4 episodes, or should I say 8. So much unnecessary back and fourth drama to then end us at a place where they were already close to being at the start of their relationship. Yea, Ray is aware of his drinking and trying to stop, because abracadabra magic of romance or whatever, but so what? I think it’s a disservice to Ray that Mew had to be the one breaking up with him; he deserved to have agency over his own healing from trauma, and his own moving on. And Mew deserved to be rejected, and not having everyone eating from his hand, for once in this series. Even if they had to have this weird awkward bad fling moment, I wish Ray had been the one telling Mew at the hospital that he picked Sand. Sand deserved to be picked, as much as Ray deserved to undo himself of his own insecurity that Mew was so tied into. It weakens the Sand Ray connection for me, that Mew kinda gave the first push to make Ray pick Sand.

But overall, I’m happy with Sandray’s reunion, and I think the ending gave us some good friend moments between Mew and Ray that I was glad to see too, I guess.

I also think Ray’s conclusion is a huge disservice to a story line about addiction, and again borderline dangerous. Tying sobriety and a rehab process to someone else, going sober for someone else, is literally 101 no no rules of AA and most recovery processes. And I know there’s like two lines in Sand and Ray’s convo about this, where Sand mentions he has to do it for himself, but that’s not what happens in any way. To wedge your well being on someone being with you, to put this weight on the relationship itself, and also put your health balanced on it back, it is incredibly precarious, unfair on the other person, and dangerous to you and others.

And it's more than studied that the chances of relapse when people attempt to stop addictions in this way, is much higher than when they are led to a path of loving themselves first, and sobering up for themselves first. So in my head, Ray didn’t repent, heal or grow; I thought he genuinely would with the therapy scene and everything but, I don’t trust it. He will go back to drinking as soon as him and Sand have an argument or disagreement; just like he did when “the-one-i-will-not-mention”, Sand AND Top’s ex, shows up. But again, this show shits on everything that isn’t a couple. This show never cared about Ray or his health or happiness, it cares about SandRay; just like it never cared individually about any other character, it cared about them WITH their "other-halves”.

Not much to say about Sand himself. I love him, he’s my show crush, and he did pull me through the worst moments, and there were many, as I watched this imho badly conceived mess of a show with a depressing message.

He is consistent, he is a good friend, a loving partner, he communicates well, he fucks up but owns up to it, he apologises, he cares. I was too done with the show antics to care about the whole Ray’s dad paying him or not paying him to force Ray into rehab, I thought that was stupid and unnecessary to add to their plot. So many better ways to explore their class dynamics, which they’d already kinda done to varying levels of success throughout the series.

And I feel similarly with Sand’s ex, that I shall not be mentioning. Just weird filler stories that took up screen time when we could’ve tied ends better, shown more general character growth overall, or idk, wild, but giving the designated shameful slut of this series, Boston, some more episode time to really repent and heal. I think there was a nice potential parallel in Sand and Ray’s differing relationships with their dads, that could’ve also been explored sweetly and used to grow their connection and maybe cause drama even, that I was interested in; but it wasn’t really pursued properly or given a closure. But, that’s all. They win, especially Sand, but in the context of this series that’s not something I’d be bragging about if I was them.

Top & Mew:

I feel like you’ll want me to talk about them and contrarily to this show I like my friends and wanna make an effort for you. But genuinely I couldn’t care less about them, which is also what complicated me watching the show as they were very clearly the main characters. I don’t know, they have no chemistry for me as a couple, I could never convince myself into believing they were together, or that they loved each other, or found each other desirable. I don’t think this is about the acting, but just the way they were written, and the specific troupe they represent which I find so common in gay media: the virgin, or the straight-edge, who melts the heart of, and drastically changes, the player.

I think everything about their storyline was textbook. I’m terrible with remembering names of things but so many times I’ve sat through this over and over again, in very very similar ways, and all of them have this air of judgement. I think, as I said before, the virgin insert, the pure insert, the straight-edge insert, is a plot point to allow judgement on queerness, and that’s the role that Mew takes, and consequently, Top too, once he gets assimilated enough to be accepted into being a couple.

Mew is just kinda there for the whole time, being pure and pristine, being naive, young, untouched, virgin, and things happen to him, at the hand of these horrible, vicious, drunk, sex-driven, cock-hungry gays. I felt so consistently like I was being told to go “oh no, poor Mew”; but I just wanted to go “fuck you you entitled little b—-“. There was for me a consistent taint of manipulation and coercion in his interactions with others, this weaponisation of holding, this overt playing the victim, that I just could not take. I think this is seen with Ray for most of their connection, with Top, and with how he gets revenge on Boston.

There is a small moment of acknowledgement with Ray when they decide to be just friends, at the hospital, but still… I guess there’s also a little hint that Mew fucked up when he plots with the one I won’t mention, the toy-airplane gifter, the ex of everyone and their dog, that appeared magically our of nowhere to create plots I did not need. But I don’t think this was enough. The whole thing read too much to me like we should see Mew as a victim, but I couldn’t do that; he annoyed me quite a bit most of the time, and I just kinda was counting down the minutes for him not to be on screen. I think Top didn’t really have a redemption arc, but I can see why in the context of the show it’s understood as that by all the other characters. I guess he showed his love or commitment to Mew alone and that’s all that matters apparently, but I think his main issues are more into his controlling tendencies in relationships, monogamous and committed or not, and none of that was addressed. He continues to be weird and jealous about Ray for lord knows why, he has this weird macho ew reaction to being kissed by Sand during Truth or Dare at the end that also just shows me he is a creep; he does this huge manipulation plot to get Mew to move in with him, by bringing it up several times when Mew wanted to think, and even re-planning the house and making sad pup face and voice when confronted with Mew saying he isn’t sure. And then he wants to be the sugar daddy, or own his coffee shop, insert himself into all aspects of Mew life, but always holding the power side. Their power dynamics are just problematic for me here, and I kept getting the kind of ick feeling about him, and the relationship. To me, Mew still feels more like a trophy to Top, something he wants to own, as this amulet that proves he is not a slut anymore, a player anymore; it doesn’t seem to me like a genuine connection, and definitely not a loving one.

Even the fire scene at the end, which I felt should’ve been this emotional tying together moment, this metaphor that now Top isn’t alone anymore, felt kind of weird and off to me, especially as Top then has to go check on the staff and Mew is left alone, there, waiting, like.. an object left on the shelf? Maybe I’m being harsh, and maybe I forgot core parts of their relationship and storyline because they really did just bore me, I felt nothing, and I zoomed out at times and only in their scenes because I found them bland and I couldn’t take the predictability of their fates.

Chueam: I’m mostly adding this section as a protest and a wish that I’d been given more to say about her. I stand by all I said in what I sent you about the last episodes. I think she plays the classic woman insert in a gay male series, the balance, the good friend and stable partnered, the moral compass, the mother figure of the group. She doesn’t have anything aside from her relationship to the men, or family, or partner we barely hear from. Even the last scene before the men go to watch the fireworks and the women stay at home, it feels so parent-kids coded: the way April and Chueam are at the door, waving their kids goodbye somehow. IDK. it had very strong semiotics of parents waving their kids bye to prom. I wish we had seen more of them, I wish something had happened for them that wasn’t related to the messy gays. She was fun, and attentive, she worked hard, she cared for family and friends consistently, and it seemed like she had a healthy relationship with kinda funny quarrels between them (like her not liking Aprils films is funny to explore no?!). I would’ve loved to be allowed to witness them more. I wanna know what she allowed herself to dream of. She deserved so much more. I’d trade out the unnecessary brother-fucking storyline for something about her. I’d trade out Sand getting offered money to take Ray to rehab for something more about her. I’d trade out Top and Mew still broken up but playing family with Mew’s mums for something more about her. (even tho I liked the older generation lesbian representation. A dinner party between Chueam and them??? I’d fund that spin-off.) I’d trade out the whole ex of the world, deus ex-machina, sudden drama insert for no reason, airplane model named character, every single appearance and storyline for something more about her. I’d honestly probably trade out both Top and Mew as a whole to a focused storyline on Chueam and April. Well… maybe Boston should’ve just never existed if he was gonna be trashed unfairly like he was from this Universe unrepented, and we could’ve just had more Chueam from the start.

(aaaand yes I wasn’t gonna talk about Boeing because I think adding him was just lazy writing and unnecessary and I basically ignored any kinda plot he created because it added nothing to the story in the end aside from being episode filler. I already don’t like when series bring a random ex without motivations just to cause drama, so I really eye-rolled at him being the ex of two character and not only causing drama on both sides, but also coming to stick the last knife on our already tortured scorn-slut lol. But oh well, I enjoyed having him shirtless on my screen though.)

Anyway, I finished and I am done: This show left me angry and terribly sad and feeling a bit like I was being hated on for absolutely no reason. I am not emotional about it aside from my couple of tears at the ending, cause I ultimately have more to do than care about this guy’s opinion on the world and of me I guess, but eye-roll.

In all honesty and without wanting to cancel anyone, I think this is a deeply irresponsible piece of media, queer nonetheless. It comes across queer phobic to me, this type of queer support that is waged on queers assimilating to how heteronormative society has lived and predominantly lives. It discriminates not about who you love or want to have sex with, but how you want to relate to people and how you want to claim agency over your sexuality and life. I just don’t understand why this is what you would choose to put out into the world, but i guess this was made to shock. And maybe that’s the start of the problem. Its the equivalent to the point of view where “it’s okay if you’re gay, as long as you’re seeking a husband” kind of rhetoric. The wide-plethora of queer identities and relationship styles are burned at the fire. And I’m not asking for the almost circus superficial tick-list of representational politics that western media is on the verge of becoming, and I’m really trying to hold on to some sensitivity that cultural context is very different. But I think what they’ve done is shitty and damaging beyond that. I am not saying I needed a liberated slut Boston on a 6 people polycule, or that I needed an open relationship or anything. You could have most people end up in couples and others end up alone but happy, in a way that didn’t need to include the absolute and nearly consecutive and relentless shaming of hook-ups, of any sort of personal desire that doesn’t include 1-1 romantic coupledom, the relentless punishing of every character that dreams a little different, and the consistent disregard and deprioritising of any connection and interaction that isn’t romantic. It’s just a bit lazy and shitty to me.

Chocomilk, the other BL you showed me a while ago, also was intensely focused on romance, as I guess BL is in general, but friendships were there, other non-romantic interactions were there without being judged or outshone. And I think this is true to most media right, the romantic love often takes centre stage. I really think and hope I’m taking this in consideration when complaining about this show - I don’t think its the only show to blame of course, but it felt more intense here, more pointed and much much more judgemental. Maybe because there really was such little care to every other relationship and interaction aside from romance, because every redemption (or lack of), every character improvement was ultimately based on the fact that they were now romantically involved with one significant other; but also of course, Boston’s ending and general storyline, which has been the most direct and relentless attack on a choice of living and relating to others sexually, that I’ve seen on TV in a long long time. This I have to say, I found really shamefully irresponsible. Ultimately I think the writing in this is lazy and shock based, I think they supported themselves on having famous actors and put them in situations that would shock and cause commotion to an audience that already knows and likes those people. It wasn’t about character building or journey cause we got little of that. From my perspective, and my little context, it was about putting famous BL faces doing things that aren’t usually very BL for the simple point of being shocking and different, rather than for good narrative and story purposes.

So we are left with a story that makes little sense, and to me just feels like a messy manifesto against sexual freedom.

The End

Well that's over. If you've made it to the end, thanks for reading.💜

I'll tag some people that left comments last time or reblogged. @doyou000me @summerfullofsnow @o-nao-lugar @lurkingshan @italianpersonwithashippersheart @mygwenchan however don't feel any obligation to read or comment

[ryuichirou]

Tops and bottoms: whys and hows

As you probably know by now, but with all of our multishipping open-mindedness, there is one thing that we’re very particular and principled about: the top/bottom positioning of the ships that we like. These roles are always fixed with us: the characters never switch or change their positions regardless of what ship they’re in, two tops and two bottoms are never paired, etc. There is no exception to this rule with us, we don’t entertain the idea of them switching ever.

We are not the only people in the fandom spaces with this type of mindset, but as far as I know, it’s not as wide-spread on the western side of any fandom, so naturally, some people find it confusing. We get questions about it from time to time, so we figured we would write a post, in which I’ll try to explain the reasoning behind our choices and give you some insight in how it works for us.

Disclaimer: whenever we call a character a top or a bottom, we always talk about our own perception and reading of the said character. We don’t wish to force our way of thinking on others and we don’t want others to try to make us question our own preferences. Everyone should be able to enjoy any piece of media the way they want, and there is no right or wrong way to ship characters together.

In this text, I refer both to their position in sex and them being dom/sub to each other, since it usually correlates for the most part.

So, why would we look at a character and so strongly and uncompromisingly believe that he is one way and not the other?

A short and exhaustive answer would be: we just want to. Frankly, this really is all the reasoning you need lol It’s entirely a matter of preference. I just look at some characters and want to fuck them and want them to be bottoms. I look at Vil and think that I want to live in a reality in which he enjoys being the submissive and receiving one in a relationship lol let’s be honest he deserves it. So yeah, it’s not that deep.

But a longer, more thorough way to look at it would to say that there are some specific tropes that characters can have that we tend to see in a certain way. Our favourite types, if you will. Some other people might see them in different light, but to us, they have all the qualities we love in either tops or bottoms. I’ll try to explain and give some examples…

Character types that we tend to see as bottoms:

Reclusive sarcastic introvert who has a hard time connecting and/or communicating with people. They either lack the motivation/initiative or are just done with everyone. Or both. A lot of time they either have a resting bitch face or a smug sardonic expression, they bite with their words and brutal honesty, but they’re actually quite sensitive. They don’t have a lot of friends and are very aware that they can be unpleasant to hang out with, but they’re also quite sensitive and care deeply for those that they love. A lot of time they have that one person who make them into a complete all-forgiving pushover. Examples of this type: Idia Shroud, Jamil Viper, Matsuno Ichimatsu, Barok van Zieks, Levi Ackerman, Ciel Phantomhive, Killua Zoldyck, Annie Leonhart, Daria Morgendorffer. This is my favourite type lol

 It’s kind of similar to the first type but still fairy different: not as biting and sarcastic, more sensitive, earnest and emotional, but not very expressive with their emotions. They look either sleepy or sickly, they’re soft and slow, but also extremely self-sacrificial with their loved ones. Even if they are very strong, they still have these frail vibes. I guess they’re closer to a kuudere type. Examples of this one: Silver, Snake, Hasegawa Langa.

Confident and flirty, but also quite good at what they do. A diva that can be either very demanding and picky or straight-up childish and capricious at times. They enjoy stoplight, but also have their moments of insecurity and vulnerability with raw emotion and deep feelings. Very sly and very teasing, provoking, sometimes even cunning. Surprisingly wise at times. They are petty and they are very aware of that. Examples of that: Vil Schoenheit, Malleus Draconia, Alois Trancy, Keigo Atobe, Matsuno Todomatsu, Zenin Mai.

Little shit lol A bit of a bimbo. Either because they aren’t all that smart or because they tend to act recklessly without thinking, and it always backfires. They aren’t necessarily malicious, but can be quite bratty and the life is their biggest brat-tamer. Deep inside they really enjoy feeling like a victim though, is it masochism or is it self-pity? Can be either. Innocent, but not so innocent. They’re also very sensitive and huge romantics by nature. Examples of that: Epel Felmier, Jake English, Toki Wartooth, Byun Minho.

An overly serious tsundere buzzkill. They take themselves too seriously, they try to make things right but according to the way they thing is right. Super smart, but have low emotional intelligence, which is one of the things that differs them from the first type greatly (the second thing is that the 1st type doesn’t take themselves seriously at all). Sometimes they are unreasonably demanding, and they pretty much have a tunnel vision when it comes to think they passionately believe in. They’re very bulliable and hilarious when angry… But the biggest plottwist is that a lot of times they’re huge hypocrites what don’t actually believe in what they preach and want to get emotionally comforted instead. Examples of that: Riddle Rosehearts, Rollo Flamme, Kurapika, Matsuno Choromatsu.

Something that all of the types have in common for us (even though it might not be obvious with some of them…) are a lack of initiative (even if they flirt, it tends to be a provocation or an invitation to act), submissiveness (open or hidden), victimhood/self-punishing tendencies and willingness to love someone deeply and unconditionally. Once again, doesn’t mean that every character that has these qualities is automatically a bottom and it only exists in them, it just means that these are the qualities that we love in bottoms.

Character types that we tend to see as tops:

An overly stubborn bloke with tunnel vision lol Just like the 5th type from the bottoms list, they take their own beliefs very seriously and could sometimes get angry if someone disrespects it; but they are different, because there is no emotional turmoil behind this type of top’s loyalty to his ideas. The tsundere bottom one tries to cover their emotional wounds, and this top idiot simply doesn’t know better, but they SURE AS HELL BELIEVE THAT THEY ARE THE SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM! And if everyone followed their advice, the world would be a much better place!! At the same time, if “the system” that they believe in betrays them, they would be the one to get to the bottom of it, and they would stop at nothing to discover the truth. They’re overbearing, overstepping, overprotective, kind of aggressive and a lot of time physical, but they could also sometimes be silly and even funny. At the same time, they’re horrible at getting hints and get confused in emotional situations. But they love their loved ones dearly and would do super drastic and horrible things for them without thinking twice. They make such great simps~ Examples of that: Sebek Zigvolt, Herman Grinhill, Erwin Smith, Equius Zahhak, Dirk Strider.

If the previous type is a stuffy inspector who doesn’t fully understand how relationships work, this one is more of a general who’s either seen some shit or actively seeing it lol He is just as stubborn, but doesn’t have as much of a tunnel vision. He might not have his shit together, but he sure as hell knows how to inspire the crowd and how to discipline young soldiers, so to speak. At the same time, if I was to describe this type I’d call him a calculating beast lol It’s the warlords and leaders + a lot of the characters who simply enjoy violence for the sake of it. But sometimes their chaos is contained in little pranks and friendly fights~ People fall in love with them quite often… The examples of that: Lilia Vanrouge, Fushiguro Toji, Zenin Maki, Eren Yeager.  

The previous type is charismatic, but these are THE charismatic fuckers. People either absolutely love them or absolutely hate them, and they just dance to the beat of their own drums and do whatever they find fun or amusing. If the character is a top and their entire motivation is to avoid getting bored, it’s very likely this one. They don’t care about hierarchy, don’t care about who they’re talking to, the world is their playground and they’re enjoying every second of it. Some of them are absolute sickos, but some of them are just enthusiastic and eager to learn everything about the world around them. It feels like they can talk to anyone, people are very drawn to them. But also? They are still super stubborn. Examples of that would be: the Tweels, Rook Hunt, Ortho Shroud, Sebastian Michaelis (oh Yana LOVES this type), Shindo Ainosuke, Morow Hisoka, Gon Freecs… see this range?! Insane.

Another psycho, but this unhinged in a different way. They’s the ufo, they’re the monster inside your bed AND your walls, they make people uncomfortable and scared, they would push a person under the bus for their loved one… or for funsies! They tend to be vindictive and petty in general and they never forgive grudges. Sometimes they are whiny and capricious, sometimes they act like they want to be pitied, but they would actually absolutely hate a person that pities them… and plan a murder. Even if a character of this type seems rather civil, trust me, they are capable of doing horrible things for the pettiest of reasons Examples of this one: Azul Ashengrotto, Gojo Satoru, Zeke Yeager, Komaeda Nagito.

A fool. And idiot. It’s hard to define this one, I guess he doesn’t look as aggressive as the previous ones, but he still has capricious and stubborn childish qualities that he can’t really do anything about. He is sweet and loving and sometimes even bubbly, but there is… there is something about him that just doesn’t…seem right…. Examples of that are Finnian, John Egbert, Shindo Shuichi, Matsuno Jyushimatsu. I guess a lot of them are straight-up CREATURES a not figuratively but literally lol

There are probably some other types that I’m forgetting but these are the main ones. Are all the character that contain these elements going to be our favourite? Not necessary – Leona is as unmotivated as Idia is sometimes, but we don’t like him nearly as much. Do these characteristics guarantee that a character would be seen a certain way by us? For the absolute majority of times, yes. The exceptions are possible, but are super unlikely.

As you can see, while the described tropes/qualities are rather specific, the range of characters that fit them is quite large. Let’s be honest, Sebek and Dirk aren’t all that similar, but on a larger scale, both of them contain the qualities that we find attractive in tops in our ships. Hence, their positions. Also, a lot of the qualities exist in different types, so it could be kind of fluid there lol

And for the record, we don’t spend hours trying to align the characters into the roles and we don’t force it. It happens very naturally and it’s always been this way; I guess when it comes to Katsu and I, we just have a very specific tastes and preferences that miraculously match. At the end of the day, it really is just a matter of what we want a character to do and how we want a ship to interact.

I hope it clarifies how we look at this whole thing. Thank you for reading!

[fractualized]

hi I sent that last ask and I appreciate you so much. I love how chill you are. I love that you speak up and aren't afraid of others people's opinions of you -- because you talking about that helps me realize exactly what you were talking about about.

my critical online space that shaped my brain was Tumblr growing up, much in the same way reddit or 4chan or anything else was for others, and as positive as it was and as much as I stay here, there were some HEAVY years of thought policing and performing perfectly at all times and I really think it fucked with my head!

not to trauma dump, but the way it related to starting off by policing each other in fandom just happened to spill into every other aspect of my life too. every thing is black and white. every interaction is perfect or you are flawed and not worth anything at all. people literally judging you off stupid fandom shit behind a fake name dressed up in sparkles and curiosity was enough to call you a monster who deserved to be alone. the fuck??

from fandom cops telling me that portrayals of fictional characters in my head were an actual meter that we can base if we're deserving of human connection made me think about what ELSE could be important. aren't there things a little more pressing than fictional characters?? the words I use. the way I behave. move my face. micro express, leave pauses in sentences, judged by everything! I've been taught that the LITTLEST OF INDICATIONS OF HUMANITY were going to be the death of me. I couldn't exist. all because of fictional themes that creators are allowed to make, but fans are not allowed to enjoy unless it's the "right way". even though the people CREATING it are also exploring it. rules for thee but not for me.

it's gross. I felt like a monster and when the only other people who are kind to you are monsters, it really makes you wonder why fandom cops find themselves so much morally superior to others 👹

People have told me I'm chill before and I'm always like, "excellent, they can't tell I'm yelling on the inside." 😂

Sometimes I wonder if I would be different if the show Heroes hadn't ended as such a clusterfuck. And by that I mean that my experience with that show ended on such a sour note, I wound up drifting away from fandom for 5-ish years. And it wasn't because of the Heroes fandom itself! It was because by the end I was hate-watching the show, and that kind of headspace is just no good. I wasted too much energy being mad at something that wasn't going to improve, and my other fandom interests weren't strong enough for fic, etc. I still lurked here and there, but otherwise I focused on life stuff.

At the point I left, tumblr was popular but I was still a livejournal (and journalfen) holdout. As a result, I was simply absent during the most intense tumblr years. I have a general idea of what it was like from everyone's descriptions, but from my point of view, five years passed, Telltale Batman: the Enemy Within came a-calling, I started writing fic again, and uhhhhh things sure were different.

Not entirely for the worse. For one thing, as someone who unavoidably grew older, yeah, I do keep in mind that there are children running around these parts. The increased focus on tagging your work is also good, so people can avoid what they don't want to see. And it's just always been a good general rule to be mindful when getting into sensitive topics, and I was seeing more of that.

Buuuuuuuut yeah, with that it seemed like "don't like; don't read" was out, and witch hunting was in. Some slight mistake might indicate you were actually one of the Bad Ones all the long! And everyone must know! I mean, there's always been fandom police, but fandom's mainstreamification definitely made it worse for a host of reasons. And I actually was unnerved by it for a while, even though the Enemy Within finale had me indulging in fluff. I was probably safe-- but then again who knows what blunder or improper deference to a sensitive subject could bring a swarm of strangers!

But eventually I was fluffed out, and chatting batjokes with people was giving me new ideas that would have me explore and indulge in (gasp) darker ideas. And by that point I was just like, I'm a freaking adult. I tag my shit. I'm here to have a good time with people I like, not worry about a bunch of randos who probably get as much anxiety making a cold call as I do. And yeah, why are fans supposed to be judged on a different metric than the creators?? I'm going to do what I want!

And with that rallying cry… I mean, nothing ever happened. 😂 Not the first time I've built up worries in my head for nothing.

I can see it taking me longer to get to that point if I'd fully marinated in the thought policing, though. I think people get that instinct because of the age-old lack of control elsewhere in life (especially nowadays, with all the… everything). Surely if someone can get everyone in their orbit to behave in just this way, then at least things there will be okay. Nothing bad will happen! (It's not as if rigid mindsets hurt people and their relationships, or performatively good people still do atrocious things. No, surely not.)

I don't have a good closing, so here's an Reno 911 icon from the old days:

[garfeildfanpage]

Ok so this may just be a personal pet peeve I have but I can’t STAND when fanfics n such include characters listening to music that makes no sense for them to listen to

To each his own, I know everyone has their own understanding of characters; and self-projection is fun! But it’s just so exhausted and I want something that isn’t just the author using their own taste in music for once

Yes OBVIOUSLY a fictional character listening to mitski in a fan fiction doesn’t matter and I’m upset at nothing but when it’s in every single one, it can really strain the immersion

Don’t get me wrong, I love me some mitski! But variety is important, and can give a character more personality, even in fan works!

So, basically, here are my personal two cents on what I think the tbhk cast would listen to.

(If I come off as a hypocrite I give you the permission to shoot me)

Keep in mind I am not Japanese, nor anything close. My understanding of Japanese music stops at idol-game music and everything after that eludes my little brain. these are just vague ideas, to then be added to by someone more well versed than I, so do as you will. Doesn’t necessarily have to be Japanese music either, music is for everyone! Let teru listen to Rihanna! Have akane listen to one direction! Aoi listens to Belgian death metal! So yeah just take everything I say with a nice, handful of salt.

Yashiro: As shown in a volume extra (I think) Nene plays idol games! So it’s safe to assume that she enjoys J-idol music as well, which makes sense! J-pop fucks. ALSO mentioned in a volume extra, she enjoys jaded-lover-type music, which could encompass music akin to some 90’s J-Rock!

I would put suggestions here! But I am bad at listing artists - SUPER☆GIRLS is like the only J-idol group I listen to don’t hit me. ( 7/10 on the mitski meter: she could, and probably would listen to her, but only lush, only lush.)

Kou: Yeah not gonna lie if someone said he’d listen to weezer I wouldn’t have any reason to disagree, he’s very loser-rock and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Though to me he seems much more like a “I-listen-to-mainstream-rock-because-it-sound-good” type guy, keep in mind tbhk takes place in like 2014-2015 (I think) so whatever band were popular then, he probably listened to just that. Anime openings…fucking….Naruto…also, nightcore….anime openings… live that 2010’s life Kou you deserve it…be cringe…be free. (3/10 on the mitski meter: he wouldn’t, just cause he wouldn’t really encounter her in the wild. Maybe if he was recommended her…but not on his own.)

Hanako: ok look idk what the hell supernatural music sounds like so I’m just going to go off of the time period to which he was alive. Orchestras and Jazz were popular around the 1950s in Japan (along with other more western styles of music) so, that, probably, i don’t know. With Amane’s connection to music (at least vaguely) plays, musicals, and other type performances could’ve been an interest; though for Hanako, I don’t really know if he’d even have any interest in music specifically. So considering that he’d probably just listen to whatever people play around him. (5/10 on the mitski meter: totally possible, but not believable.)

Akane: m starting to blank gimmie a moment. Instrumental. That’s really all I can say. He listens to music when studying, cleaning, or performing any task where he has to focus, so anything rhythmic and calm, something to take up the brain space that isn’t doing the task at hand so he doesn’t get distracted by something else. Video game soundtracks (like Mario or some ambient bullshit), soft pop. He also seems like the kinda guy to just listen to whatever his parents play, so yes most definitely some old shit. Recommendations from Aoi or Nene. Basically just noise, a nice distraction from the horrible horrible world, yknow? (5/10 on the mitski meter: anything goes I s’pose)

Teru: Classical?? I guess?? Dude does not listen to dick, nothing, absolutely fuck all. Old classic, a nice orchestra or quartet. western or eastern it don’t matter, as long as it’s nice, repetitive, and peaceful it’ll do the job just fine. (2/10 on the mitski meter: probably too much for him to handle, man’s constantly on the edge of a mental break mitski’d kill him, maybe if he handled his underlying issues first, but until then no mitski)

Aoi: last one cause I am clocking out. Similar taste to akane, undefined and flexible. probably listens to the same stuff as Nene, though I think she probably enjoys older j-pop, just cause she seems like that, Yknow? Movie soundtracks, Anime soundtracks (shoujou, probably. Precure n such just cause Aoi seems like someone who deserves to heal her inner child, same goes for Akane as well) Similar to Teru she probably also likes the more calmer and downbeat stuff. (8/10 on the mitski meter: totally possible, I’d believe it, but she wouldn’t tell anyone, it’s her special secret.)

Anyway see you next week for more awesome pubg 360 no-scope compilations ninja out

[bloggingboutburgers]

re: "let me know if you found something that works" -- all ive ever found in response to not finding the fandom representations you want is that your imagination and intuition are just as valid as a written story. that sounds bad so let me give some conditions:

it's cheap, and it can feel useless to just daydream. or like making the work happen again. but those little points where you think "omg this video is EXACTLY what those two are like!" when it's unrelated -- i like to think those are little nods from a universe that understands your perspective may not be written down, but is a truly necessary and valid one.

they're characters, but as entities they deserve at least our acknowledgement that we can't control their relationships or feelings. we can paint pictures of them, sure, but aren't the metrics of your soul and heart better at finding the material you want? and wouldn't that heart space be a more reasonable measure than someone who wants to write or read some consumable relationship package in a story? there's SO much less bias in the former, save for our own fears and loves staining things. which is fine. that's us.

the downside to this method is you gotta drop it when things click badly -- e.g. if something just brings you anxiety, it is probably just anxiety. but in all my years of fandom media i've found the best connections with our favorite characters really do come from the heart, not text on a page.

you're contributing to their world in a way just by believing what you believe. so trust that there are odd ways for "confirmation" to occur that would function just as well, if not more intimately, as/then a well-structured platonic/familial fic or artwork.

(that being said. seriously. as the "mom" of many characters, the lack of tags is, frankly, disturbing. i'm with you on the prayers for much more wholesome and general-audience fan works!!)

That's definitely a good thing to do – and I agree, we can always take comfort that we'll at least always have more control over our own brain, and how we experience things for ourselves. That much will always be a good thing.

But... If all of that's just never gonna leave your brain, it's still a pretty lonely experience. What's getting to me isn't an inability to engage with a work in a way I like for myself. What's getting to me mostly is that I'd like to make connections with people who enjoy those works, I wanna be able to talk about my feelings about something I love with someone else, and I can't seem to be able to in a way that doesn't make me feel like an outsider or a very far afterthought. And it's getting to me that I can't seem to make friends over these common interests the way pretty much everyone else seems to be able to.

[boo-cool-robot]

Everything I Watched This Year

I have watched the most movies this year of my life, which is still so few that I can fit them all into one tumblr post, so here they are in approximately chronological order (along with TV shows). I almost exclusively watch visual media with other people, and they're often the ones picking. Favorites get an asterisk (*), and this does not include rewatches.

*Fallen Angels (Wong Kar-Wai): Five loosely connected lonely people chase imagined versions of each other around the Hong Kong nightscape. I didn't go into a plotless arthouse film expecting it to be extremely funny, but it is. He Zhiwu (my new tumblr icon!) deserves to be up there among the deranged autistic blorbos of all time.

What We Do in the Shadows (Showrun by Paul Simms and Stefani Robinson) [First half of S4]: If you're on tumblr you probably know the premise already. I was disappointed that after S3, which felt like a build to huge shifts in the characters and status quo, S4 felt like a walkback. Don't remember much else about it other than crying laughing at the sequence where they try to get baby Colin Robinson into private school.

Brokeback Mountain (Ang Lee): Everyone knows what this movie is already. It's well-made and solid, but it wasn't anything that exciting for me. I expected it to be more striking. Love the 70s home production design in that one scene though, and that kiss truly is good.

*Velvet Goldmine (Todd Haynes): A reporter tracks down the truth of a rock star gay affair that sparked his own queer coming of age. Dreamy, gorgeous, and I could not describe the plot scene to scene if you paid me. Just a really lovely film to experience for me, someone who had latent and unnamed transgay feelings as a teenager about the concept of "emo boys kissing."

Phantom of the Paradise (Brian De Palma): Phantom of the Opera-inspired drama about a songwriter getting revenge on the predatory producer that ruined his life. Total delight of a campy melodrama.

Kamikaze Girls (Tetsuya Nakashima): A delinquent and fashion-obsessed scam artist strike up a lesbian-tinged unlikely friendship. This movie is bananas. Way more stylistically experimental than I'd expected--there's a sequence of the protagonist's birth, people just float offscreen sometimes, the townspeople constantly turn to the camera and advertise for the megamart they buy all their clothes from, etc. A really really surprisingly fun watch.

*Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury (Hiroshi Kobayashi and Ryō Andō) [First 6 episodes only]: Optimistic young pilot of a war machine that she may have an illegal psionic connection with goes to space high school and is promptly drawn into political plotting via accidentally getting gay engaged to a corporate heiress. Highly enjoyed the parts of it I saw - great action sequences, fun character drama, and just enough political substance. Not as weird as Utena, which it's inspired by, but can be brutal where necessary. I should watch more!

*In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar Wai): Two Shanghainese emigrants in Hong Kong discover their spouses are cheating and embark on a tragic affair of their own. God, this movie deserves every bit of praise it gets. I gasped out loud multiple times at the gorgeousness of shot compositions. Top notch acting, gorgeous colors. This tends to be a movie pitched as being about a repressed love affair, but it's also a movie about the positionality about being middle class colonial subjects and the relationships they have with the world. This gave me so much to chew on after I watched it.

Happy Together (Wong Kar-Wai): Two Hong Kong expats living in Argentina have a toxic gay relationship trapped in a tiny apartment. This one felt very opaque to me, and it is allegedly an allegory for Hong Kong being returned to Chinese rule after British colonialism, which I absolutely do not have enough background to really get. Wong is a great director though, and I constantly think about the sequence of the main character seeing the abusive ex walk into the club, beat while he finishes his drink, and then he breaks his bottle off and goes in to screams.

Bound (The Wachowskis): A lesbian handyman falls for a woman married to an abusive mobster that they plot to rob. The first 45 minutes were very enjoyable as a lesbian heist film. Unfortunately, once the gunshots started the torture scenes became so stressful for me to watch that I sweated through my shirt. (I also had Covid).

[elisabethbabarci]

THE ESSENCE OF TIME PART 02

There is a narriative that many do not enjoy the present moment out of fear that individuals will then “Need or require something” or “Want to extract essential elements from their character, time, life, or connections,” therefore, they will push away any compassion out of fear that there is a hidden motive. To live in fear of life, to always question your security, is to imprision yourself within a restrictive bell jar. We will encounter many disappointments, disasters, unexpected turbulence or turmoil that will test our endurance, patience, or perception however, if you give those situations infinite power to monopolize your progress, you will then become stagnated in a time period that was once represented lessons for growth or regressiveness, and will fail to see the importance of the precious time of the now.

Education equates and enables self dependency, when we learn from others, gain experience from other cultures or learn about other civilizations we then adopt new modes of thinking and methods to perform life and tasks. Education promotes stability, societal development, enables us to take on challenges and new ventures with confidence. When we set goals, we then have a sense of purpose and accomplishment from our discoveries, experiments, and journeys. Even on a restricted budget, venture outside of your comfort zone, to another community or town, learn new modes of being, and learn from strangers outside of your profession. Travel enables emanicipation from what constrains us, to give us a fresh perspective, to take a breath, to recover and rejuvinate.

The more you place high importance on veering out of or departing from your normative path, the more you will allow spiritual expansion and adventure within. When we adopt new modes of spiritual, social, physical, or cognitive ways of doing or are open to new environments it enables unlimited possibilities for self discovery. To experience metamorphosis we must let go of the fear of uncertainty to allow great and natural transformations to occur. You have been given the precious gift of time, use it wisely by utilizing your wisdom and knowledge from various circumstances. The importance of learning, education, at any stage of your life — it does not have to be curtailed just after high school graduation, some might require real life experience before they settle on the major decisions of what they want to aspire to be, others often live the dreams of their parents or what is expected of them. If you freely or carelessly give up your life for another at the cost of your own happiness, that is not only imprisonment but the cost is to expensive to bear.

Be careful and precious with your time, avoid Trompe-l’œil situations in all facets of your life. Recognize and realize who are there for you. If you are seen as transactional, disposable, or temporary, meaning you are not defined as worthy, valued, friend, or family, extract yourself from the situation. During my recovery from rape, I entrusted an individual with my care, I opened my heart and soul bearing what hurt me internally, seeking friendship and assistance to live in peace externally when internally I was engulfed with trauma and fear. Oftentimes, we will meet spiritual “healers,” (Yes, I use “healers” lightly, we need discernment with this term as not everyone deserves this title), mentors, teachers, or faux amis that will view us as an ends to the means … how? One word, they see us as transactional, annuities, that will give the illusion that they are safe, constant, and are a harbour of metaphysical advice however, once your recovery is creating space and room for expansion, or you start to heal at an accelerated rate … will then unfortunately try to diminish your efforts by stating that they were never really in your corner, speak ill about your situation, define you as part of their family or friend network only to recognize your were just a dollar value to their business and a mere client or member. You will always know if you were truly meaningful when you remove the money, if they allow you to leave, your existence or presence was not respected or meaningful to them to salvage. Seeking assistance from those that want to maintain future clients instead of independent strong warriors can stagnate your life and fragment the essence of your being.

Be careful who you entrust your secrets, energy, time with, when you invest in yourself through healing maintain a healthy boundary for what you hold sacred so that it cannot be used against you. Maintain your power by not giving into illusionary shallow words, commitments, agreements or promises. Faux amis will betray, waste the essence of your life, will not celebrate your achievements, milestones, and will drain your life-force due to jealousy and resent. When you abstain from derailment from others, it emancipates you to flourish in your path, you can not allow another to obscure your healing process or to define who you are as a person, only you can define your life and stand in your true power, no one can do this for you. Stand with moral conviction with a bright moral compass. The true litmus test of a false friend is when you are in dire need of support or assistance they will cut you off to be stranded while giving the illusion that they are there “In spirit.” Do not be fooled. Once the patina of the illusionary friendship deteriorates always remember that tarnish will not damage the silver’s consistency beneath however, beware of those that are corrosive as they will erode your layers of what makes you moral, pure, and just. Do not become malleable like metal.

Always remember, a severed relationship could have been divine or universal protection, endings often lead us to crucial lessons, elevation of our awareness of life, and serve as beacons to illuminate our path for ourselves and others. Do not accept those that state “In your attempts of recovery,” this is a coercive controlling technique to make you feel that you are not progressing when you are healing at an accelerated rate which they can not handle. Do not allow others to define you, or alter your integrity. Follow your own internal compass of what you know is your true moral judgement. If you sustain the illusion of false friendships, you then set the standard for betrayal mindset, which will provide you with individuals that adopt mercenary mindset meaning not loyal to family, friends, or cherished moral beliefs. Set standards and boundaries, as your time is valuable and precious and should not be wasted on those that seek destruction for mere pleasure. Place importance on valuing your experiences for our lessons constitute our existence and set as a navigational tool to decipher other situations we may encounter.

[emblazons]

I don't usually go to tumblr to talk movies, but I know people are interested in this one because of Finn, so I'll attempt some thoughts more like I do other films (with irl friends, mostly).

My WYFSTW thoughts (in no particular order + a clip)

under the cut, not because I really "spoiled" anything but because I write a lot haha

I really enjoyed this, surprisingly. I kind of expected it to ring a little more hollow than it did based on the reviews, but I think the fact that I've spent a while seeing/reading all the interviews Jesse & Finn did (combined with the fact that I listened to the audiobook) made the characters feel more fleshed out in my mind than they might for other people on screen.

To be honest...this is basically a movie about mommy issues, and if you weren't trying to be understanding, it's really easy to write them both off as unlikable. And I won't lie: in a lot of ways, they well and truly are the most irritating kind of people—they are two sides of the same obnoxiously disconnected (and narcissistic) coin, where neither one of them is self-aware enough to realize how they come off, and both of them expect all of their good intentions to be met with open arms in spite of how much they overlook the wants, desires and interests of others.

That said...their inability to connect to others because of their self-absorption while still desiring deep connection, to me, is something i think everyone can relate to at least a little. The unspoken emotionalism of Ziggy and Evelyn—the way they started searching for each other in other people—was both really heartfelt and heartbreaking, and while I know Finn repeatedly said he felt like he related to Ziggy and honestly (in more remembered than present way) so can I. Somehow, I feel like I am in the space in life between him and his mother: still looking to prove yourself, but also aware of how intense and laborious and full of struggle the wider world can be.

Alisha Boe has the most withering gaze I've ever seen (good for her) and it plays so well into making you want to hug Ziggy despite you knowing he's such a pain in the ass in reality—and the scene between him and his mother in her little "enviro friendly" car where he's asking her for help becoming someone worthwhile only for her to unintentionally insult him up and down...god. You feel so much for Ziggy even when you want to fade into your seat trying to avoid his awkwardness, and Finn's ability to be deadly earnest and endearing doing the most insanely cringe things (lmao) is a power I have to commend him readily for.

Evelyn is much tricker. I would have hated her a lot if I was younger, and I think she deserves a lot less empathy than Ziggy in every situation we find her in (though, in so many ways, we realize they are the same...which makes their relationship all the richer. At least to me). Her attempts to project the relationship she wants with Ziggy onto someone else were insanely brutal to watch knowing how much Ziggy longed to connect with her...and the way Kyle wasn't the son she wanted, despite the one she wanted being right there.

Speaking of...Billy Byrk as Kyle was phenomenal. Like. Good enough to make me want to watch more of his movies, and earnest in a way I really wasn't expecting from a secondary character. He was a standout performance right alongside Finn (unsurprising that they are best friends who make movies and do projects together lol) who I definitely think carried some of the empathy you eventually feel for him and Ziggy in regards to Evelyn, which...yeah. I loved him in this.

All and all, it was a solid movie—flat out hilarious at times and full of that kind of upper middle class suburban nonsense you see in a lot of movies laced with emotions I wasn't expecting to feel. You definitely need to have a good gauge of reading expressions to appreciate this movie because a lot of its weight lives in the unspoken, but. I definitely think most people who enjoy indie / A24 and coming of age films will like it. I know I did.

Bonus thoughts:

the scene of ziggy in his room people were talking about was very tame, especially compared to what happened in the audiobook. Its a little awkward, but nothing you couldn't cover your eyes for like 10 seconds and avoid. It's not explicit in any way.

I cannot understate how funny this movie was at times. There were two older people next to me in the theater and we were all laughing consistently the whole 88 minutes lmao

For some reason, Ziggy performing for people and having it mean nothing irl felt a lot like being on Tumblr in some ways. NOT IN A BAD WAY, but maybe that made me extra empathetic to him LOL

FINN LOOKS AT ALL HIS LOVE INTERESTS THE SAME WAY. Its exactly the same with Ziggy with Lila as Mike with Will because that is Finn's "enamored with you" face, and it was intentional in both WYFSTW and ST. I will accept no arguments.

Prepare to be hurt if you have mommy issues I'm TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW because I felt pain and I don't even HAVE those 😭

...I am open to literally any questions about it / thoughts you may also have lmao my DMs are wide open :) also here is a little snippet of Ziggy wisdom I caught LMAO

[tortoisesshells]

top five 1899 characters and/or top five scenes from 1899!

unfortunately, I cannot shut up about 1899. to save your dash, it's all under the cut. tl;dr: I fucking love Maura Franklin.

TOP 5 CHARACTERS: (1) Maura Franklin: she's unhinged. she's the only sane man. she's suffered more than jesus christ. she's caused everyone else to suffer more than she has (maybe). she'll never let go. she has to let go. she accidentally keeps committing adultery with the walking talking open wound masquerading as an authority figure. stealth pants. possibly understands far more than she ever lets on. The most character of all time.

(2) Eyk Larsen: so far past his breaking point that it's almost comic. who put this man in charge of a ship and 1500 souls? If 1899 is a story about grief, then he gets so many of the great character beats about it. He'd practically dead himself. He's going to drink himself into an early grave. A shell of a man with a single, half-deranged thread of hope. A man who was saved from inspiring the worst kind of dad issues in his daughters by their horrible and premature deaths. If his story on the Kerberos is completely disconnected from his reality (whatever that is) I think he should be allowed to commit murder.

(3) Ramiro: I don't know what I can say about him that you and others have not said more eloquently than I, but: a man who is destined to keep secrets - not only his own; a man who deserves rest but is not allowed to, either by his own moral compass or the intolerance of the world around him. everyone wants him as a confessor and confidante, but he struggles to find that for himself! he shines in the crisis, but you wish he didn't have to. I hope there's a version of reality where he and Ángel get to sit in the open sun and enjoy a quiet afternoon.

(4) Jérôme: local man forced to abandon perfectly good Count of Monte Cristo plot by supernatural vicissitudes and his own sense of rights and wrongs. I think he should get to get Lucien with the hammer. I think he and Clémence should ride off into the sunset together. I have no idea how he and Clémence got out of Ling Yi's memories, but I think something horrible and plot-relevant happened in there and I'm raging against the heavens that we'll never get to see the full scope of their escape into the boiler room. He doesn't seem to be running away from his past as much as the others, and sets aside his sprint towards rightful vengeance as soon as he sees the miseries of his past playing out again. I still don't know what I believe his original plan was - murder? simply throwing the medal back in Lucien's face? Did he know himself? G O D.

(5) Ling Yi: I, too, enjoy hiding in small spaces, though I'm more partial to handy closets than miscellaneous equipment lockers. She's isolated from her mother by the great secret they're carrying between them, from any common ability to connect to anyone else, from her own sense of self. It's understandable that she tends to expect the worst, all things taken together. If all this has happened before, how many times has she not been able to say goodbye, either to Mei Mei or to her mother? How long has she been staring the end, not of her physical life, but her life as Ling Yi, in the face?

TOP 5 SCENES: (1) "Have you ever lost someone? It's like you're dying with them. They can move on. You're stuck." I've rambled at length in the tags but: Eyk Larsen's whole life as Captain of the Kerberos is one great circle between Southampton and New York, over and over, without end. He cannot escape it. He cannot, except temporarily, escape his grief over the loss of his family and his failures as a husband and father to have done something. And yet (as we know) none of this is real, and all of this is Maura's doing - maybe. Maura, rightly, looks as though she's been gutted: this is her grief reflected back to her. She cannot move on, and because of it, they're all stuck.

(2) I am a giant sucker for well-done SFX, and the Kerberos descending through the maelstrom into the archive left me gasping. Ling Yi's - resignation? - to seeing the impossible spooling out in front of her, when she's lost the only other person on the ship who cared at all for what she thought makes spectacle into tragedy.

(3) The multiple-way conversation between Ángel and Ramiro and Eyk and Eugen about the survivors aboard the Prometheus having need of a priest in the first-class hallway: the multiple conversations being had at once, the switching between languages, the claustrophobic framing, that Ángel, who has not exactly shown himself to have much care for Ramiro's opinions thusfar, shows himself instead to be frightened and a little desperate to not rock the boat (sorry, couldn't resist) and still concerned for Ramiro's well-being as the masquerade seems to be getting out of hand. There's so much going on in such a little scene!

(4) Maura, wondering where everyone on the Prometheus went, immediately asking Eyk how hot the boilers run - skipping right over that it would be significantly easier, perhaps, to throw bodies overboard than cremate 1500 people. I love how your mind works, Miss Franklin. You're terrifying. (actually, the whole sequence of Maura and Eyk immediately deciding to lie to each other rather than converse is a delight. for a given value of delight.)

(5) The fight on the stern of the Kerberos at the end of the mutiny: the lighting! the drama! the spectacle! the realization that all is lost before the significantly worse realization - they are so far beyond the boundaries of the possible, and whatever controls this place is not operating by known rules! The many reunions mid-fight! Iben wins by being willing to murder a child!

[captainbobbin]

Oh don’t worry they did find me well-

Though because of your cat Isa art I was wondering what animal you’d view Saïx/Isa as more. Personally I see him as more of a rabbit considering 3ds days has

Whatever this claymore can be called-

That claymore is called Bunnymoon! Saïx gets that in Days if you equip him with the Mystery Gear, which is said to "draw forth its wielder's personality". I think it's really charming and actually very telling of Saïx's character tbh - that deep down he's a kid that grew up far too soon, that looked to the skies and romanticized space and travel (the rocket) and also is fond of soft and cute things deep down (the rabbit). While the alternate weapons level of canon-ness is dubious at best, I really love how much each weapon shows off aspects of the characters they equate to. The name of Saïx's weapons are very interesting, but Bunnymoon and Just Desserts are very much faves of mine haha

The rabbit motif also comes from the tale of The Rabbit In The Moon, which is an Asian folktale; in said tale, if I remember correctly, a rabbit offers all it can to help a beggar in need, and then offers to sacrifice itself by walking through fire. The beggar turns out to be a god of the sun, and carves the rabbit's likeness into the moon, and so the dark spots on the moon are meant to represent the rabbit's noble nature. Which. feels very fitting to me in a lot of ways haha. There's also Saïx's hair lowkey looking like floppy bunny ears lmao. I like the rabbit connection and I think its a super interesting angle but I tend to relate him to other animals!

Theres obviously the wolf/werewolf motifs and I am always a sucker for that. I'm a gay furry that likes big hairy beasts what can I say. Werewolves 100% do it for me and I really like writing Saïx as wolfish - a pack animal that struggles with such a lack of familiarity around him and so lashes out and forces itself to work so independently, much to its detriment.... I love that Saïx's journal text in KH2 talks of him having a 'savage nature' and, in my writing and lfotr especially, I often characterise Saïx's ability of Berserk as its own thing, a sentient part of him, a werewolf-esque part of his personality that he consciously can understand and interact with almost. Everyone in my chat will tell you tho that I very much have a catboy Isa agenda lmaoooo. Listen. Listen. it stems from the werewolf angle but hear me out. He deserves to purr when he's happy and comfortable. He deserves to knead biscuits on those he loves as he gets comfortable and fall asleep against them. He needs to show affection by gentle headbutting as he goes past. He needs attention, and will hunt for you and bring you gifts, and he should secretly enjoy being petted and that man is a cat hahaha

[frozen-fountain]

Summer reading-writing-creation tag game

Tagged by @vcaudley.

describe one creative WIP project you want to work on this summer: The big one, that I'm closing in on the end of the first act of the first draft of, concerns Cloud and Tifa FFVII trying to repair both their relationship and their world after the events of the game, over-compensating for their lost youth with a lot of ill-advised sex and substance use, to decidedly mixed results. It's about doing human connection the hard way, shaking a rigidly constructed identity in favour of fluidity, and the non-linear process of peaks and troughs that is recovering from life in the world as it is. I figured the sticky, sweaty, and uncomfortable season would be more bearable if I could essentially frame it as method writing. In this one I get to delve into the day-to-day workings of the proto-anarchist village that's been the main setting of the series this fic belongs to, since previous stories were smaller in scope or contred on characters who aren't as central to its running; I'm also going to bring in some elements of the wider worldbuilding I'm excited for soon. If anyone thinks the whole thing is too rose-tinted, they won't for long.

I also like to cross shorter fics off my list between drafts of bigger ones. It gives me more space to reflect on what I've written and what it needs, and also lets me get a fix of the heady rush of finishing and posting something while plugging away at a longfic. Next on that docket, I think, is a weird thing about Shadow from FFVI. It's been well over a decade since I attempted second person POV, but some characters are crying out for it and I think his fractured headspace is one. I also want to use it to try to make something resembling sense of the train that takes you to the afterlife. Nothing too concrete for this one yet, but I tend to find my oneshots during the writing process anyway.

recommend a book: If not cultivating despair is the theme for today, then I think everyone, everyone, should read Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Kimmerer and A Paradise Built in Hell by Rebecca Solnit. The former is the chronicle of an Anishinaabe botanist's journey in reconciling her studies with her cultural heritage surrounding the natural world and our place in it; the latter concerns the co-operation, community-building, and mutual aid that the author observes emerging in the aftermath of horrific disasters. Both are highly readable with Braiding Sweetgrass especially flowing like poetry, and if you're looking for antidotes to doomerism or inroads into reading more non-fiction, you could do a lot worse.

recommend a fic: I'll do what I usually do and recommend this series again. Not just because the author is a dear friend (though that's true), or because anyone can jump in even without prior fandom knowledge (as is that), but because it deserves so much more readership than it's gotten. If you enjoy dark fantasy, lush atmospheric prose, slow-building tragedy, and/or bittersweet and complicated bonds between bittersweet and complicated characters that drive their narrative, you'll find a lot to love here.

recommend music: Potentially my favourite album of the year so far is Katie Gately's Fawn/Brute, so here's one of the title tracks from it. She's been making gripping and unique bangers for about ten years, but for as much as I enjoyed her previous albums I found them pretty inconsistent overall; on this one, though, she really pulled it all together.

share some advice: If you feel discouraged from expressing yourself creatively due to the reception (or lack thereof) work that you poured yourself into is meeting, well, that's understandable. But I think it's really worth sitting with that disappointment and demoralisation and asking yourself; what would be enough? What would have to happen, what would need to be said to and about you, and how high would the numbers have to climb for you to feel the effort was worth it?

That's not an easy question to answer, at least in my experience. And while it's of course natural that we want these pieces of ourselves to resonate somewhere, it's too easy to get caught up in the numbers and the ratios and the need for some impossible concrete proof that we haven't failed. And when that starts to obscure our pride in our work and the connections we have made through it, that's tragic. It's an impossible standard to hold your beloved work to, that it'll fix what's missing in your life that's got you feeling so down on it. And I'm speaking about myself here - and to myself - and would not want to assume this is universal. But it's something to think about.

Stop looking for reasons to discredit yourself, basically. God knows this capitalist hellworld will give you enough of them simply by merit of having to exist in it.

Almost forgot! I nominate @bowiesinspace, @ourspecial, @keioschaos, @hrh-spinach, @visualheresy, and @danceswithdarkspawn if you're so inclined!