#and before you ask some racist and other ones are left out

[knaveofmogadore]

Hang..

[libraford]

It is possible to interact with people whom share opposing views and no this is not about pineapple on pizza. In fact, it is imperative that you learn how to be civil with some people who you may find difficult to agree with.

At work, Youngin would often tell me that the guy that trained him (Ginger) was a misogynist. I had never met Ginger, and I had very little to say on this matter. But I would ask Youngin some questions about him because I like to know the other seasonal workers a little. I ask about Ginger- first words from Youngin's mouth 'he's a misogynist.'

I asked him why he thought that. (There are many misogynists at this location, as someone that is woman-shaped I see it often, I am comparing notes.)

"We were on our way to a location and a driver was going really slowly. When he got around her he said 'fucking women drivers.' Like he was going out of his way to prove that the driver was a woman."

The last month or so, Youngin worked exclusively with me because I knew that it was a matter of time before he said something that pissed off one of the guys. He was not going to get along with people here, it just wasn't happening.

When he left, everyone wanted to know what he was like to work with. And I finally got to have a conversation with Ginger.

"I'd like to ask you something a little strange- he said that on his first day there was an issue with a driver going slowly. Can you tell me about that?"

"Oh yeah! She was going super slow and when I got around her I said 'yup- little old lady driving.' And he was like 'what's that supposed to mean?' And I just kind of dropped it, but I hear he was saying I was a misogynist over it?"

So I give Youngin some grace because he's young, he's got a social bubble that's very liberal, he has not met very many people that weren't part of that kind of scene. But he often talked about how every person here has said something that pissed him off and he seemed really surprised that I (woman-shaped queer liberal) would be okay working with all these sexist homophobes.

And I give grace to Ginger because he had no reason to think that his words would be interpreted like that. What he was saying was normal to him. This is... somewhat the culture of landscaping jobs. And its not even close to the worst thing I've heard out of these dudes mouths. (Literally had one of the dudes comment that he would like to 'motorboat' one of the pedestrians.)

It was weird for Youngin to carry that with him for the whole two months that he worked here, over a very... small comment.

Every single person I've worked with here has said something that has given me pause and I tuck it away to rant about later and then I let it go. If it gets out of hand, I talk to one of the bosses about it. I know how to contact HR. I came into this place knowing that I was going to disagree politically with most of the people that I work with because I'm coming in to a culture that is fundamentally different from my own.

If I am being frank, I find the overt bigotry somewhat better than the corporate bullshit of 'we value your contributions, but won't be granting your accommodations request out of fairness to other workers' or the glass cliff or literally being fired for my sexual orientation but phrased with 'oh you just weren't a good fit for the culture here.' I at least know what I'm getting into when I come to work. I know what not to talk about. Last time I thought I was safe to talk about something queer with my boss she blindsided me with some transphobic garbage.

Its admirable to stick up for the marginalized people in your life, but part of changing minds is knowing the time and the place to comment. I think I've changed more minds at this warehouse by being a visibly out lesbian at work than I have by making carefully crafted speeches.

That is fine. It is fine to disagree. Sometimes you have to work with racists, homophobes, and assholes. That is part of being an adult. You talk about things like... sports or TV or weather or some cool bug you saw. Finding common ground with people who are different from you in many ways is an important part of socialization and it sucks to think you have anything in common with a jackass but look- you're spending 7-ish hours with these people and at some point some of them are going to say stupid shit. You are going to say stupid shit also. I have said my fair share of stupid shit. Deal with the fact that you're all stupid shits.

And for fuck's sake, wear your hardhat.

[shadyshaylee114]

Orc x reader

You lived in alittle cottage on the outskirts of town. Many found you to be strange but you had the best fruits and vegetables anyone had tasted so when you came into town to trade and sell the line was never ending. The towns people had practically raised you so your booth was always busy. What you weren't expecting today was the fact an orc had set up a meat stand right next to your produce stand. You had arrived before the sunlight to set up as you always do but froze taking in the sight. An orc, well over 6 ft tall, was standing in front of the stand next to yours hanging up rows of wrapped meat. You swallowed as you watched the way his muscles moved, enjoying the dark green color on his skin. You took in the scars that littered his back. Wishing you could kiss each individual scar. Distracted you hadn't notice the orc had turned his head and notice your stare.

"I paid for this stand I won't leave even if you have an issue with my kind." He snarled snapping you out of your perverse thoughts.

"No! I.. I mean no I don't have a problem with orcs. I just hadn't seen you around before. I'm... I'm  sorry I didn't mean to stare or make you uncomfortable." You stammered out your cheeks turning bright red in embarrassment. You looked him in the eyes finally taking in his features. He had four tusks in total. Two larger than the the others , his eyes a vibrant yellow that reminded you of the sunflowers you grew around your cabin. You were attracted to the orc and had already made him think you where racist, way to go.

"Agar Warbringer." He said holding out his hand.

"Agar thats a wonderful name." You whispered shaking his hand as you told him your name. Agar grunted giving you a curt nod before turning back to his meats.

You left him alone to continue setting up your stand. Little did you know Agar couldn't help but keep stealing peeks at the small little human. You hadn't been afraid and looked him in the eyes. Plus the smell of your arousal had been what caught his attention in the first place. A human female attracted to an orc. There must be something wrong with you. He watched from the side as you set out your produce. Watching the way your hair fell and how often you'd brush it out of your eyes. The way the dawn was starting to shine on your skin so very different from his. Then he thought back to your tiny hand in his. How soft your fingers where compared to his. He could feel his cock hardening at the thought of your hands wrapped around him. Agar cursed silently under his breath focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't sell his meats if he couldn't even control his own.

The bell that signaled the start of the market rang through the air and just as fast,  people started to flood in.  As you helped person after person you kept stealing glances at Agar unable to help yourself. He was so handsome and they way he handled people was incredible. Giving small children some jerky to nibble on while there parents picked through his assorted product. The way he laughed with the elders as they told him their own hunting tales. His patience was vast even with those who didn't deserve it.

"Honestly if I were you I'd ask to move your stand." You jumped looking at the young man standing at the front of your line.

"Excuse me?" You asked shocked at his statement.

"Why would they allow an orc to put up a stand next to yours? Your one of the busiest stands in the market that thing will scare away your buyers with his ugly face." You could feel rage boiling up inside of you. How dare he say something so nasty.

"If that's all for you, I think you should go." You said coldly. The boy looked at you in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you actually care about that orc." He gasped. Shaking his head he scowled and left muttering under his breath. You knew violence was prohibited but you wanted to beat some sense into that child. You quickly stepped behind the stand for a second to calm your nerves. As you started to prepare to head back you turned right into Agar slamming your head into his chest. He quickly grabbed your arms to stop you from falling.

"Are you okay? I saw you kick that man away from your stand." He asked with a wince. Why was he over here? The last thing you probably wanted was him so close. Without thinking since Agar had a hold of both your arms still you rubbed your nose on his chest it had stung to slam into him. As his musky scent started to fill your sense you froze. Quickly pulling back from him your face turning red in embarrassment. You had just practically harassed him.

"I'm fine. Thank you for coming to check up on me. Sorry about your chest. I mean sorry. I'm just gonna go back the lines waiting. Thank you again!" You rushed out the words. Mortified how could things possibly get worse.

As the day continued you stayed busy still stealing glances at Agar every chance you had. Then as usual the bell tolled signaling the end of the market. When you looked over at Agars stand again. The orc was quickly loading his cart not even sparing you a glance as he did. A deep ache settled into your chest. Why was it bothering you? You and Agar had barely meet. You needed to leave him alone. Ignoring the tears burning at your eyes you started to pack up your own stand. Working diligently placing all the produce back into the crates you'd brought them in. So busy you hadn't noticed Agar slid inside to stand behind you. Agar shifted on his heels he had come to help you, wanting to court you in the orc manner, but paused as he could smell your tears. Had that man come back? He'd crush his skull for making you cry. Agar chose to clear his throat to get your attention wishing to bring you comfort. What he wasn't anticipating was the terrified shriek that left your lips. Agar covered his ears stumbling back an slamming his head on one of the beams. He lowered himself to sit on the counter rubbing his large hand over the bump.

"Oh by the gods Agar I'm sorry you scared me." You cried out,  pulling him down to inspect where he hit his head. Swatting his hand away so you could see better. "Luckily your not bleeding." You whispered as you gently ran your fingers thru his hair. His forehead was rested on your breast in this postion. Agar found his eyes sliding closed letting out a soft moan. You started to pull away worried that the sound he made was because of pain. Agar wrapped his arm around your waist resting his chin on your breast.

"It's okay I shouldn't have snuck up on you." Agar had opened his eyes to take you in once again, you looked so worried for him. He found himself smiling at the way you fiddled with his hair while holding eye contact with him. "Little one, what made you cry?" He found himself asking. You shook your head wiping at your eyes. You let out a sigh biting your lip.

"I thought I'd upset you. And that you'd no longer want anything to do with me. You were packing up your cart so quickly." You whispered looking down. Agar groaned in embarrassment.

"I was packing my cart up so quickly because I wanted to come help you. I hoped if I helped you perhaps you'd allow me to spend more time with you." Agar gently grabbed your hands unwillingly lifting his head from your breast. He couldn't help himself but to admire the differences between the two of you.

"You wanted to spend more time with me?" You asked drawing Agars gaze away from your hands. At the look of wonder mixed with delight on your face, Agar found himself moving once more this time pulling you closer to him as he sealed his lips against yours. He spread his thighs tugging you into the space in-between. Placing your hands onto his chest he groaned. He dragged his hand up your arm tangling his thick fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. You'd never been kissed like this before it was all fire, passion, and need. You felt as though Agar would never get his fill of you. As you moaned collapsing against him no longer able to hold yourself up on your shaky legs. Agar slid his tongue into your mouth, bringing you into a heated dance of your tongues. As Agar broke the kiss he chuckled at the soft dazed look on your face.

"Your so beautiful and kind. You smell like sunshine and taste like fresh fruit. How could I not want to spend time with you? Let's pack up your cart then we shall go for a stroll." You whined softly as he separated the two of you smiling brightly at your response. He was pleased that you where returning his affection. He had truly believed wooing you wouldn't be possible. Yet here you where looking at him with some much love he kept forgetting how to breath. You approached Agar as he put the last crate into your cart.

  "Are you staying in town?" You asked. Agar look at you shaking his head.

"No the people normally prefer I don't stay in town. I rest in my cart." At his words you shook your head. You knew that humans and the mythical didn't get along but that felt like to much.

"Please Agar, come stay at my cabin. I'll make us a hot meal and you can sleep on an actual bed." You begged softly. Agar look down at you his eyes widened. He found himself nodding at a loss for words, especially when your face lit up in a bright smile upon his agreement. The travel to your cabin didn't take long. You lived in the  forest,  just outside the city walls.

"Why don't you live in town?" Agar asked. Taking in your home. You had paused a sad look settling on your face before you answered.

"Mmm my parents where what the towns people call wise men. My father would say they where historians. They'd take down knowledge of anything and everything they could. When my mother discovered she was pregnant they chose this forest. I've been here ever since." A soft silence once again settled between the two of you. You led the horses to the barn as Agar looked at you.

"How old where you when they left?" Agar asked softly.

"I was six. I really dont like talking about it. The people in town took good care of me helped me be an honest worker." You whispered entering your home Agar close behind. You showed Agar a place to wash up as you cooked dinner.

  You and Agar enjoyed your meal sharing stories. Agar helped you clean up.

"I'll show you to the bedroom." You whispered leading the way down the hall. As you arrived to your bedroom and opened the door Agar blinked.

"This is really well furnished for a spare bedroom." He stated simply sitting down on the foot of the bed. You blushed fiddling with your fingers once more.

"It's my bedroom. I thought.... I thought we could sleep together." Agar smiled you where being so bold and brave.

"Come here little one." He groaned as he pulled you onto his lap. You whinned softly at the feeling of Agars cock pressed against your core. He chuckled at the needy sound lowering his head to kiss you. His hands gripping your ass slowly dragging you along his length.  "You feel that little one. I've been like that all day watching you." He growled lowering his head to travel kisses and small nips with his tusk along your neck. He chuckled once more at the needy sounds leaving your lips. "So desperate love. Acting like I don't have every intention to stuff you full."

"Please Agar more. Want you to take me." You practically sobbed out.  Agar burst out laughing at your antics making you pout.

"I have to prepare you little one I'm much to big for you to take me right away." He layed down flat on the bed. "Take off the rest of your clothes and come up here." At his order, you quickly threw off your gown and undergarments. Once again drawing a chuckle from Agar. He found your eagerness endearing. As you climbed onto his lap he shook his head. "Higher love. I cant feast on you from all the way down there." You looked at him swallowing heavily as he licked his lips and tusks. You made your way up untill your dripping cunt was hovering above his face.

"I what if I hurt you?" You asked holding yourself up. This time it was your turn to laugh. The look on Agars face was a mix between being insulted and bewilderment.

"I want you to try." He growled his hands closing around on your hips pulling you straight onto his face. Making you choke on your laughter as his tusk pressed right against your lips, opening you up for his thick tongue. At the first swipe along your clit you whined. He moaned low pushing his tongue into your opening.  He rubbed his nose against your clit as he tried to touch the deepest parts of you with his tongue. Gasping and trying to pull away from the overwhelming pleasure he snarled in frustration. You where interrupting him, with a quick movement you where moving backwards. Finding yourself flat on the bed his face still buried inbetween your legs.

"Oh by the stars Agar I can't!" You cried out as he now had you fully pinned open to his assault. He was fucking you with his tongue every once in awhile giving special attention to your swollen clit. You continued to try to get away from the immense pleasure. Agar brought one arm up to settle on to your hips right under your stomach. Using his other hand he grabbed your leg moving it so he could slip his hand to your weeping cunt. He slid his ring finger into you. Just his one finger was already stretching you wider then his tongue had. You moaned your back arching. Agar didn't hesitate to add a second you where already so wet for him. Agar slid his fingers deeper, watching as you cum. You were such a sight spread out before him so ready, so willing, and so sensitive. As his fingers pressed against your g-spot you cried out the sensation dragging out your already intense orgasam. He groaned in delight making sure you rode out the high of your orgasm, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

"Your so sweet little one." He sighed dragging his tongue up your sensitive cunt making you whine.

"I could live in between your legs, but now your ready for me. Catch your breath." His eyes were almost glowing with his need to have you. Agar was patient rubbing slowly circles on your thighs as your breathing slowed.

"Please Agar. I'm ready I want you." At your words, Agar moved pulling you towards him. He grabbed his cock in his hand dragging it along you wet folds. As he lined himself up with your entrance he locked his eyes onto yours. Slowly pushing himself in he gritted his teeth. Slow, he had to go slow, you were so wet and tight. He could fill his control slipping. Another soft moan left your lips. With that soft sound Agar could no longer resist. He pushed himself the rest of the way with a quick rough thrust, his balls smacked against your ass. You let out a loud groan your eyes sliding closed at the feeling of being filled. 

"Oh no mate, your gonna keep those gorgeous eyes on me." Agar growled as he began to move. Your eyes flew open thanks to the way he was kissing your cervix with every thrust. "There's my pretty mate. So lovely so tight around me. Irresistible, I will never let you go."

Your nails where digging into his bicep. The pleasure was overwhelming you. You were getting close to cumming. With out thinking you sank your teeth into his chest. Agar groaned feeling your walls tightening on him. "My pretty girl your begging for my seed. Pulling me back so tight." At Agars next rough thrust you cried out into his chest

Agar roared as he slammed himself all the way into you,  slamming into your cervix as he filled you with his seed. Agar brushed your hair away from your eyes taking in the way your eyes where dilated. How your breast rose and fell with each panting breath. Blinking away your tears you looked back at Agar.

"Did you mean it?" You asked softly. Agar looked at you with a soft tilt of his head.

"Mean what little one?" He asked as he ran his hands along anywhere he could easily reach.

"When you called me your mate?" You whispered hiding your face now afraid his answer would be no. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Agar rather it be in your cabin or traveling by his side. Agar froze at your question he thought he had made that perfectly clear. Pulling his cock back he slid himself back in slowly to your sensitive cunt. Your eyes rolled back at the overwhelming pleasure. Agar leaned down resting his cheek against yours. Setting in a slow steady pace.

"I meant every word. Your mine little one. My mate, my lover, my heart. I'll make sure your always full of my offsprings. I'll make sure all you know is how much your mine." As Agar continued to thrust into you at his words your eyes flew open looking at him. Agar above you his green skin shining with sweat under the lanterns. His yellow eyes were filled with admiration and need.

Agar once again picked up his pace. Making you cry out.

"All yours Agar. Your mate. But please I'm so close. So sensitive." You sobbed out fresh tears falling down your cheeks. Agar groaned at your words sliding his hand under your waist he lifted you up to meet his thrust at his brutal pace. Agar closed his lips over yours Pulling you into a heavy kiss. As he slid his tongue into your mouth. You once again came on his cock. Agar slid all the way into you once more as he came. As Agar pulled out fully this time he watched his cum dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs. Dragging his finger along the cum he started pushing it back into your cunt. He wouldn't allow a drop to be wasted. Your back arched at this rate Agar would be the death of you.

"Agar please I...I need some rest." You stammered out. Agar looked at you letting out a soft grunt. He laid down back flat on the bed easily pulling you onto him. Your head rested on his chest while he had your legs inbeetween his thighs. He started to fiddle with your hair.

"Sleep my heart for once you awaken I will have you again." He stated smiling at you his eyes filled with the same look of love and admiration. Agar had finally found his heart and he would never abandoned her.

[crowleysgirl56]

Ok, so I wanted to do a deeper dive into this particular passage of Good Omens:

For context, this is at the climax of the book, they’re at Tadfield airbase, the horsemen have been dispensed with, Aziraphale has his body back, and Satan is about to claw his way out of the pit.

In most of the proceeding chapters involving Crowley it talks a lot about how scared Crowley is. He is very scared of Hell.

One could perhaps say maybe he is scared of them due to The Arrangement, but that is never explicitly stated. I think it has more to do with Hell is bad, and Crowley has spent the majority of the book being yelled at by some entity through the radio or TV telling him how he’s going to be in super amounts of trouble when they get their hands on him. He is just scared of what will happen. When he comes across the book shop burning he doesn’t cry for his lost friend. He curses Aziraphale, and I think it’s because the one person who may have been able to keep him safe and protected from Hell is now gone.

So when he thinks to himself (as shown in the above screen shot) that there is now nothing left for him to lose, this is why I never thought (upon reading the book the first time that is) there were any romantic feelings between him and Aziraphale. I know that technically he had already lost Aziraphale. But by this point he was back again, and back in his body. If there truly were romantic thoughts between them surely the idea of losing him again would come up.

I have read so much fanfiction, some old, some new, and what they all have in common is the detailed inner monologue of Crowley’s turmoil over his feelings for Aziraphale and how he doesn’t feel like he can act on them. In the book we get nothing of the sort, from either character. Even when they’re separated there is hardly ever any description of them thinking of the other except occasionally to frame a short reference to something. Reading the book I never got the impression that there was anything more than two ethereal beings spending time and proximity to each other and doing work for each other for no other reason than they’re essentially a bit lazy.

I think they’re only queer coded for the fact that there’s the line about Aziraphale appearing “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitric oxide”, and Crowley is, well, very Freddie Mercury coded. Them being seen as gay together and all the gay slurs in the awful racist scenes of Aziraphale body hopping about in culturally indigenous people after the bookshop fire has more to do with the very typical 80’s/90’s trope of “being gay = comedy gold”, than them actually being together romantically.

I think the reason why they were shipped so much after the publication however is for the same reason we ship so many male couples (or female couple) in modern media, why we’ve always shipped them: because of the complete and horrid lack there of, of proper queer representation.

If you’ve ever seen the magnificent Russel T Davies TV series It’s a Sin, there is a wonderful scene where the character Ash starts a job in a school library and the headmaster asks him to go through all the books and find any book that has queer love scenes so they can be removed. Ash then gives a most beautiful and impassioned speech (albeit it turns out the speech is just in his head) of how there is nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is nothing to the point where they are nonexistent. They are invisible. They are not seen. (Or like, something to that effect. I tell you though, it’s bloody brilliant).

So I think that’s rather the point really. You have two iconic characters, albeit supporting bit characters practically, and I think a lot of our minds automatically get drawn to wanting to put them together because of the sheer lack of queer couples. People have been doing it for years from Frodo and Sam, to Harry Potter and Draco (or Ron I guess), to Sherlock and Watson (even before the Benedict Cumberbatch show. Also as an aside let’s not get into how obsessed people got about Sherlock Holmes back in the day when those books were first published. The obsession was the reason Doyle killed the character off the in first place, then after getting letters from people telling him they were literally going to kill themselves, the reasons why he resurrected him again. Don’t tell us that modern day nerds are weird and obsessive. We’ve ALWAYS been like this).

It’s for this reason why queer representation is so god damn important. Why I still support the idea of Good Omens season 3. Because regardless of how the characters were originally intending to be represented in the book, it’s very clear now that they are so much more than “Just friends”. And we NEED that! Whether you subscribe to the idea that they will be physically intimate with each other, the fact remains is they love each other. They love each other immensely. And that comes from years of Terry Pratchett (and the other guy) accepting that canon and telling fans that it’s true. Because Michael Sheen made a choice and held a belief about how he saw his character and then David Tennant followed suit. That literally tens of thousands of fanfiction writers have decided the same.

So that’s my take. I don’t think loving each other was ever intended that way in the book, but in the last 35 years their story has morphed into the ineffable husbands that we now know.

What are your thoughts? Have I rambled on long enough to make any sense? Do you agree? Have I missed something completely obvious and gotten it all wrong? Keen to hear thoughts.

[nicosraf]

Wait what did Freydis Moon do? :( I've read their books and really liked them, but I don't follow them anywhere online, so that last ask you got worried me

Freydis Moon has been exposed to be Taylor Barton, a white person from the state of Oregon, someone who had a history of faking their race, being racist, and general abusive behavior. You can read more here about this Taylor person here, and you can find an incredibly long thread here.

Freydis was a colleague of mine, and they took me under their wing when I entered the indie book scene. They presented themselves as a Latine, mystic, queer trans author — who was older than me, I should add — so I deeply admired them and confided in them. I don't think ABM would have ever gotten much attention if I hadn't received their guidance.

There had been some whispers that Freydis was really Taylor, but I'd seen Frey's seemingly darker-skinned hands and heard their real name, which was supposedly Daniela.

Two things I should say before the big reveal: Freydis briefly hired a publicist named Cordi, who was also an agent with their own agency, named The Lynne Agency. Cordi, very randomly, decided to leave the industry and left their clients, and Freydis, hanging. Someone else to mention is Saint Harlow, an author of gay, cannibal erotica. On twitter, Saint was known for peddling a lot of drama — sometimes, he was on the good side of things and sometimes the bad, but he tended to be a massive bully. Freydis allegedly comforted some of Saint's victims.

And the reveal:

Freydis is the race faker Taylor Barton. The evidence is substantial, but most notably, some of the files they shared with other authors, including me, had metadata with the names of Taylor Barton's other identities. I was able to check the files myself to confirm.

They were also Saint Harlow. Meaning Freydis was bullying people secretly on one account and comforting them on another. And the bullying was a lot more disgusting than you might think, but for the sake of the victim, I won't share details.

They were also the publicist/agent Cordi. Why did they pretend to be an agent at all? I'm not sure but they wasted a lot of authors' times, that's for sure. Were they just looking to plagiarize off manuscripts sent to them? Who knows. (A friend of mine who sent their manuscript to them fears so).

There were a lot of interactions between Taylor and I that are much much weirder in retrospect. They critiqued the industry use of #ownvoices, which I agreed about, but blew the issue out of proportion, like thinking #ownvoices gay-trans author book lists shouldn't exist because of potential outing, mlm books by mlm authors lists shouldn't exist because of potential outing, and that lists of books by people of color about people of color also shouldn't exist because... potential outing? Taylor was, to me, oddly sympathetic toward certain authors accused of racism and shot down my concerns of a certain book with what I felt to be pro-colonizer themes inconsistently — their response to racism seemed to depend on whether they already disliked a person or not.

I could say a lot more but as someone who spoke to Taylor in private at times, there were a lot of things I was unsure about even when I was on their side of things. To some people, apparently, Freydis had said they were part Mexican, but only ever told me they were Peruvian (they might've known I'd clock them as a faker). Regardless, when this all came to light, their response was shockingly dismissive.

This may be more info than you asked for but TLDR:

Freydis Moon faked their race and ethnicity, bullied and manipulated many readers and authors using various fake identities, took advantage of latine author resources, and so on.

[mazzystar24]

I hope I can ask you this because I don't want to ask in the tags, I'm scared 🥹 but I've seen a lot of discourse about why tommy isn't good for buck, he's cold, the relationship is toxic etc and I was wondering why people think that? Is there anything specific that started it?

I fully believe eddie is buck's true love, endgame, whatever we want to call it and I'm sad we don't have that (yet) but I thought bucktommy was kinda fun in the meantime. I just want to understand 🫶🏻

Oh hey darling! you were so sweet and genuine in your response so please know I’m just answering what I’m asked and if you wanna enjoy and have fun with bt that is completely your prerogative but I’m just offering my perspective on it

And i am warning you this is gonna be long because I feel a constant need to go really in depth in my thoughts

Okay so idk how I’m gonna break this down but maybe I’ll do it in like main points?

Also if you’re new here whenever I use bullet points I’m just doing it cos I find it easier to chunk up my thoughts not cos I’m being curt or anything with you

1. The chimney and hen begins episodes

He wasnt just passive in the episodes and letting Gerard get away with his racist and misogynistic behaviour he ACTIVELY participated in it

This includes:

• Asking if they forgot to tip the delivery guy WHILE THEY WERE EATING CHINESE FOOD when chimney first comes up despite the fact that 1. Chimney had a big ass lafd bag 2. They were probably already told a probie would be coming 3. Probably would’ve seen the actual delivery guy 4. I would bet my absolute life that question would not have been asked if buck or bobby had walked up those stairs this wasn’t an innocent comment it WAS RACIST intentionally like the entire point of the episode was to show how bad they had it

• the New York bitchiness comment

• throwing his tools down along for hen to clean up

• going out of his way to treat them like outcasts and hating chimney before he even knew him despite chimneys efforts

• the way each of them had to “earn his respect” in some way before he acted like a normal coworker to them and this was never in the typical ‘oh it’s a new person’ type of way it always had to do with their race or in hen’s case her gender too

A defence I see a lot for this is “oh he was closeted” and honestly to me that is such bullshit because 1. Eli was perfectly capable of not participating in the racism and taking chimney under his wing without getting any shit for it and chimney is quite literally a Korean man (something he literally can’t hide) and he had just got his head above water with Gerard’s racism when hen came and he STILL was a friend to her 2. Again tommy wasn’t passive in it and just letting Gerrard be racist (which would’ve been one thing) no he actively participated in it to be part of the boys club 3. Let’s say that somehow not being a dick would’ve meant that that was a threat to the closet he was in- that is still in my opinion a fucked up sense of preservation if you spare yourself the possibility of bigotry (despite having inherent social capital by being a white man in that job) by inflicting others to bigotry

Now when Tommy was first reintroduced I was like keeping an open mind and saying okay it’s been a lot of time and maybe he has genuinely made amends because I do believe in redemption but imo they have made no attempt to show us that and had him honestly put more of the blame on Gerrard for his behaviour or the writers flat out avoiding mentioning it to retcon tommy a little and hope we forget

Another defence I see is “oh chimney and hen became friends with him so they must’ve forgave him”, hen went no contact the moment he left (something the writers went out of their way to include that line) and chimney didn’t even invite him to his wedding which was quite big after the Buckley parents got involved so it’s not like it was cos it was such a small and intimate wedding and he only called him as far as we know in those years when he needed a favor, which all means that most likely they had kinda just put it behind them and kept up a coworker relationship with him, but no actual friendship or actual forgiveness or redemption had taken place

Oh wow all that was just point one and I can probably talk more on it but I’ll just leave it with saying that Lou’s comments about it being teasing or how Tommy genuinely didn’t know hen or chimney were capable etc just makes for a worse case than saying it’s cos of being in the closet (and that is genuinely a large part of why idk much abt Lou but those comments are enough to make me hate him) and I’ll also say that poc (myself included in that) have these situations so often- situations even as specific as gay men being racist to them to fit in - and we understand the nuance and shit to it but we also understand on a deep level how it feels to be on the other side of that

And getting toxic bt fans try to come up with ways to downplay or minimise racism honestly pisses me off so much cos believe you me we have heard every excuse and downplay under the sun and I for one am sick and tired of it

2. Why he’s viewed as cold and his jokes

• literally from the small parts we saw of him and Eddie hanging out we have seen the man is in fact capable of joking and being light and having fun but around buck in particular he’s like 🧍‍♂️😐 and the occasional 🙂 like it just feels very stiff and just plain in a way

• his humour consistently falls flat and feels passive aggressive more than anything like blunt or sardonic humour DOES work like I personally love it but it’s not being written OR executed right

A. It’s always in response to genuine moments or questions such as buck talking abt the award or the daddy kink joke or henren questioning him

B. It’s the the majority of what we see from him, there is not enough balance for it

C. Lack of rapport, when friends or couples make jokes that can come off the wrong way if said to anyone else it’s cos of the rapport built already, this rapport is not established with the characters OR with the audience for these jokes to come off right

D. I gotta say this one too but the execution just isn’t right from writing to acting, it’s the same reason sardonic humour lines from Sandra oh as Cristina Yang or hugh Laurie as house still lets you like the characters and find them funny but Tommys lines come off as annoying to a lot of people

3. I think fandom discourse probably has something to do with it but not in the way you think

I’m not saying like oh ppl who ship buddie just hate him cos of the ship no I’m saying that like what takes him from an annoying disliked character to a hated character is most likely the fact that his role stirred so much drama and caused so much damage to how the fandom used to be that its turned the dial up

4. A lot of his development, lore or redeemable factors or cute things are just not canon

This may be blunt and I am sorry for that but I think his character has been blown up to such a degree that it’s genuinely shocking

Like I look at posts or get sent hate and I’m like where did any of this happen this is just not canon this is just not a show like at times I’m genuinely convinced it’s a social experiment where different ppl saw a different show like some spiderman multiverse situation

Listen I’m all for headcanons genuinely like if you wanna take extra number three and make a whole backstory and lore and cute stuff abt her I’m all for it but it’s when it’s said as if it’s fact or canon that I’m like hold up a second rewind

I think this is kinda a result of Lou’s cameos (which honestly deserves its own post but you asked why the tommy hate so imma stay on topic) and also this like need to defend the character but not having much material to work with

Like if we look at canon we can literally break down the entirety of Tommys appearances this far in the show and what we learn about him:

• chimney begins- he makes a racist comment and he tries to suck up to Gerard, there is a little hint abt his gayness with the gf comment, Eli says to chimney that’s just how they are and tries to reason it could be fear of losing friends but we see tommy having friends in the firehouse while eli says this, chimney tries to make friends with him and tommy makes no attempt to get to know him and says he’d hate him anyways, chimney saves Tommys life thus earning his respect

• hen begins- she’s met with the same racism chimney is but also met with misogyny (and homophobia but that’s not relevant to the tommy of it all), we find out chimney is still isolated from the rest despite having earnt that respect, chimney befriends hen and again tommy still doesn’t try anything like that until hen proves herself and earns his respect, ppl reported Gerard but it’s never actually stated tommy was one of those ppl so again that’s not canon that’s speculated

• bobby begins- chimney and hen both seem to be like coworker friends with tommy and Sal, Sal throws hissy fit bobby “fires” him tommy says it’s an overreaction bobby reveals it was a transfer, they all seem to make nice, tommy leaves to 217

• chimney calls tommy for help and tommy helps

• we see nothing from tommy,then cruise ship he helps the team but also in this we find out hen cut off all contact since he left

• buck takes tour of harbour, Eddie and tommy have a friendship and we find out some of Tommys interests and that he was in the army, basketball scene and the subsequent apology and kiss

• dinner date, Tommy explains how he was in the closet, Buck has his little awkward moment (which will be elaborated on in my next point) , Tommy says nothing abt it till the Uber arrives and he leaves buck

• buck reaches out and apologises and asks for a second chance inviting tommy to the madney wedding

• bachelor party and the issue of the lack of costume and not just taking the day off for neither wedding nor bachelor party (which you can reason is reasonable but also I feel like this deserves its point for the narrative choices)

• tommy shows up straight outta work they kiss buck has the soot coming out award ceremony - buck being happy abt the reward to which tommy sardonically says enjoy it while it lasts enter bigoted cunt gerard then chimney comes and insults gerard and they walk away

• we don’t see tommy again till the dinner date after Bobby nearly died and when buck tries to explain Bobbys significance to his life tommy throws the your dad is still alive which is just honestly one of his worst moments imo and I made a whole post abt it but can’t find it and then we all know the rest of that convo and I could make a bullet point for it but actually I made a whole post before so I’ll link it: here

AND THATS IT

Like all this comes down to what maybe like 30 mins screentime? If that?

5. The leaving buck on their first date

The defences people use for this are:

• buck was trying to shove him back in the closet

• buck was obviously not ready

• people angry abt this are just babying buck like he can find his own way home it’s not that big of a deal

• buck was at fault there and tommy would’ve been justified in being angry and not giving him a second chance

And honestly every last one of these are bullshit imo and lemme go point by point

• buck panicked, I don’t think that what buck was feeling in that moment can be properly described because unless you’re a queer person and you’ve experienced that like bone deep panic that like brain overload then you won’t get it

Like one it’s his first queer date

Two he doesn’t even understand his own sexuality atp

Three his closest friend just walked in in a situation that’s already putting him on edge

So he’s not only panicking he’s not understanding why he’s panicking he’s trying to make excuses eventhough part of him knows he doesn’t need one but also he doesn’t even understand this side of himself yet so he doesn’t want to have to potentially explain it

Like it’s a million things and a million emotions and no one can claim they would behave rationally or appropriately in that situation and if you say that you would you’re lying simple as that

Also then we find out that Eddie thought tommy was straight anyways

• the reason I love the buddie coming out scene is because of Eddie’s “and what do you think” line because it’s not up to tommy or anyone else whether a person is “ready” enough in their queerness to date. Full stop.

Also tommy knew it was Buck’s first date with a man and was still down so why is he using that as some sort of out

•it’s not about babying buck and it’s not about him finding his own way home it’s the fact that Tommy could’ve done it with much more grace and he could’ve been a lot nicer with it but he wasn’t, and this is again bucks first date with a man even if it doesn’t end with a second date it should at the very least not end up with him feeling like a screw up on the side of the road

• to the ppl who say that- kindly shut up cos again see the first point but also I wanna point out that somehow the ppl saying this are also the same ones saying that Tommy was justified to be RACIST for a prolonged period of time due to being in the closet yet Buck what? Panicking for a few seconds and being a little awkward? is somehow this giant inexcusable thing

5. The narrative choices with him have been reasonably clear and tbh if they had been made with a woman it would not be up for debate:

• tommy leaves buck on their first date then he comes back and gives buck a chance- we as a fandom have been unanimous in saying for years that Buck’s endgame would be the one that doesn’t leave him cos this pattern has been something we saw over and over with him

• tommy not dressing up- again you can rationalise it but it’s a narrative choice and it’s glaring when contrasted with Eddie suggesting the duo costume

And if we had this scene with Taylor so many ppl would be saying that it’s once again showing that her and Buck’s personalities don’t align

• him being on standby for the wedding and bachelor party- again you can say oh buck invited him last minute or oh he couldn’t taken the day off (which lbr he could’ve he’s not the only firefighter pilot in la) - but again narrative choice

If it was Taylor everyone would’ve been like SEE? Again they’re showing the audience that her work is this looming presence in their relationship

Anyway I’m gonna shut up now cos this is A LOT

I’m so sorry it took me so long to respond tho and sending flowers in apology💐💐💐💐💐💐

Love ya for being so genuine when asking and hope all this didn’t come off too strong and that it was idk helpful?🫶🫶

I realise my response is abt to have toxic bt fans scurry to my inbox like rats to send hate and to that I say go fuck yourselves I’m responding to a question here

[a7david]

Love it when the toxic fans allow themselves to judge Tommy's actions when he was younger. Racism, sexism and homophobia is always wrong. BUT you have to remember what his life looked like before he left the 118.

He grew up with racist, sexist, homophobic father. I wouldn't be surprised if his whole neighborhood was like this. His friends, teachers, girlfriends. It's some fucking mind-washing shit.

Remember the advice eddie gave buck? "Just got to keep your head down, follow orders, eventually he'll move on to the next."

If this wasn't Tommy's survival instincts - keep a low profile, do your job quietly and follow orders. Just a reminder Tommy was in the military, and had to serve under guys like Gerrard constantly.

It's this "if I won't be problematic, he'll have to move on to the actual problematic ones". Tommy was just too fucking long in this shit, and he knows he's gay and very much targetable. He doesn't care about other people, he cares about maintaining a miserable, lonely life. He was oppressed for so long I'm honestly surprised he got out.

So before you judge Tommy for a purely instinctual acts in his past, which he moved on from and managed to become a better person, maybe take a look in the mirror and ask: "do I hate Tommy, or the fact buck and eddie aren't meant to be?"

[eldritch-spouse]

What if Catalina had a human coworker that genuinely wanted to be her friend? And put themselves between her and demons when they felt it necessary?

You're what she needs.

It doesn't really matter how you ended up working there, you just needed one look at Catalina to know that something was very, very wrong.

It's not even that she's having a hard time as a waitress. Not at all. In fact, she seems plenty capable of defending herself when others holler and attempt to touch the small, voluptuous bat woman. You'd even say she's gleefully violent at times. It's that she never smiles.

Never a true smile, never a genuine look of amusement. You ask about her plans at the end of the day and she always has some variation of "nothing much" prepared. No one calls her, the regulars don't get too close to her, she didn't even seek you out at first, only bothering to teach you the basics of your new job before promptly detaching and doing her own tasks.

Fair, you suppose not everyone is at work to get chummy. After all, she was perfectly polite to you, until it was near closing hours and you could smell the alcohol on her, Catalina would mumble some replies that almost sounded rude, but whatever. You didn't mind, it wasn't your business. Maybe you even let her get away with some things because of how pretty you thought she was.

Your dynamic was dry and strained by the obligatory nature of work.

Until a certain day.

A band of infernal clients walked in. Nothing new to you, but the way Cat immediately tensed and avoided them like the plague was jarring. For the first time ever, she didn't look drained or exhausted or irritated- She looked terrified. You'd notice the scornful glances the woman would sometimes spare halflings or demonic people, but the difference between those moments and this one, was that there were at least five of them together now. Large men with loud voices to match. They seemed perfectly normal, in good moods actually, but she was giving them a deer in the headlights look, frozen, as if they had come to tear her apart.

You realized then that your coworker wasn't just mildly racist, there was history behind her attitude.

In the moment, you merely stepped in front of Catalina and waited the clients yourself, gently calling out her name and suggesting she go eat something inside because she seemed "pale".

She stayed in the back throughout the entire time those demons were hanging around, huddled in a corner, tail between her legs. The woman felt distant, eyes staring off beyond the walls, though her massive ears twitched at every little noise. You'd warn Catalina every time you were coming in and out of the back area, and waited every client until they were gone, letting the bat woman recover.

As soon as they're gone, your coworker rises as if nothing had happened, and easily returns to the prior work rhythm. She doesn't mention a thing, neither do you. At the end of your shift, Catalina looks even drunker than usual, but she manages to waddle her way to you and grab onto the edge of your shirt as she thanks you, gaze averted. She probably wouldn't have made it out of that corner if it wasn't for you.

Curiosity struck you then.

You had to ask. You had to know what was going on.

It didn't take much prodding for her to toss a glass bottle away and start blubbering everything out. She told you who she was before, who she had met in Hell, who bewitched her into a life of immeasurable luxury and who betrayed her as soon as things got serious, as soon as her own child was conceived. Catalina all but soaks your clothes in miserable tears as she chokes past the part of what she had to do, how she had to abandon her own only son and live hidden like a cockroach. How everything is killing her.

The emotional stress, paired with her heavy inebriation, has the woman crying out for her son while you rock her. She sniffles and wails and sobs until there's nothing left, and you realize, Catalina is asleep in your arms.

There was no way you could leave her alone in this state. Which led to a very awkward night where you let her crash on your couch, hear d her get up to vomit in the middle of the night and offered her some meds.

She was gone by the time you were finally able to catch some sleep. You found Catalina back at work, and her demeanor towards you had shifted from night to day.

Nowadays, the woman actually smiles at you with real joy. She chats you up when there are less clients around, helps you with heavier trays, even protects you from some less respectful cat-callers and pervs. In turn, you offer her the company she now desperately seems to crave, and serve all infernal clients on your own.

It's kind of silly how she's started to baby you recently, insisting on fixing your outfit and bringing you stuff she cooks, insisting you need to try it. Catalina even asks why so many people are constantly calling you at work, gets in the middle of conversations with clients as if to gently shoo them. Sometimes it's nice, other times a bit unnecessary.

She asked if you wanted to go watch a movie today. From the franchise on that shirt you sometimes wear before changing into the work uniform. It's very thoughtful of her to remember such a small detail. Of course you're going with her.

[orbitariums]

christopher moltisanti x black! reader (snippet) as promised literally LAST YEAR... i know my people are still waiting on it i'm so sorry for leaving yall hanging, gays can u ever forgive me?

this is a SNIPPET of the shit i literally started last week... there's room for improvement and hopefully this will force me to finish this. also if any of y'all are also into challengers, i've got some patrick zweig and art donaldson (x black reader) fic posted and more incoming ehehehe.

anyway. set in like s3/s4, when christopher was working in an office (completely blanking on when that actually was but you'll have to forgive me i literally started this last summer (and still haven't finished the sopranos because i am notoriously slow at finishing tv shows))

cappuccino w/ extra cream | christopher moltisanti x black!reader

contains: smut, mentions of racial tension, christopher is NOT an abusive racist in this sopranosverse <3

You and Christopher Moltisanti were not a predictable match. It was only by chance that you met, while he was ordering lunch at the bodega you worked at after he had scored a hit in your neighborhood. He knew better than to come back, especially just for you, but he did. Over and over he came in, ordering a turkey and cheese on a roll with extra relish, shoving an inappropriately large tip in the tip jar just for you— just enough times until you caved in and let him take you out to dinner.

Of course, your family had a fit, and you didn’t even want to think about what Christopher went through with his crew when it came time to finally tell them about his forbidden love life. But all of the ruckus had died down, and now between the two of your crews was this unspoken, stifled agreement that they would let this union exist in peace. It was the 90s for god’s sake, and Christopher was a stubborn mule. 

Once he knew what he wanted, there was no backing down, even if it made him look like an idiot to those whom he served. And by god, did he want you. He was obsessed with you. Always wining and dining you, showing you off without shame. Of course, you two had been through your ups and downs, but Christopher treated you right. You were probably the first woman he’d treated right, the first he cared for unconditionally. No pains in sight except those he took to spoil you and cherish you beyond the diamonds and Versace pumps he gifted you. Even Paulie could respect it, along with the rest. It’s partially why they left it alone, and even smiled and shook your hand when you showed up on his arm. He thought about you every waking moment, he was positively lovestruck. 

It was a slow day at the office. Already Christopher had to reprimand Thing One and Thing Two for trying to intimidate the new guy. He was secluded now in his office, scrolling aimlessly on his chunky desktop computer when he heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, baby!” came your voice, tinkling like bells in his ear and positively soaring through the room from the other side of the door. 

Christopher stood up, standing straight as if he’d just downed a shot of espresso, and he had to physically resist flinging himself at the door for the sake of the guys outside who were watching him. He opened it, first looking past you and glaring at the guys who had frozen on their phones and computers, gaping at the sight of you being let into Christopher’s office. Like they’d never seen anybody before. 

“What are you jerkoffs looking at?” Christopher barked. “Get back to work!”

Immediately resumed the punching sounds of typing and the drawls of the sleazy salesmen on the phone with their poor customers. As if it were nothing, Christopher retreated back, facing you with a broad, charming smile.

“YN, baby… what are you doin’ here?” he asked, that dopey lover boy tinkle sneaking into his voice, which always did anytime he talked to you. He sounded like a completely different person— like the Chris he might have been if he weren’t born into the family he was born into. He took your arms into his hands, caressing them gently, softly smiling. “Here, come in.”

He opened the door wide enough for you to come in, glared at everyone once again when you walked past, and then closed it, clicking the door locked. Not that anyone would try to come in unannounced anyway.   

“Wanted to see you, that’s all,” you smiled, plush lips pressed against one another. “Got off work early, got you a capp and chocolate biscotti. Extra creamy, just how you like it.”

You sat down at the chair opposite his desk, setting down two coffee cups and a crinkly paper bag. Christopher felt like he was dreaming. His discontent seemed to fade away now that you were here— bright colors replaced the dull dram palette of his lonely office and he only had eyes for you. The smell of creamy espresso wafted towards him, mingling with the praline swirls of perfume that glided off of your pressure points. He was in Heaven— he was sure of it. All of his senses were overwhelmed by beauty when he was around you. 

“My girl. Always so sweet,” Christopher picked up a cup and sat down in his desk chair across from you. He pried open the lid and took a deep sniff, all the while maintaining the most tantalizing eye contact with you, both of you staring at each other with smirking smiles painted on your lips. 

“Go on, drink it,” you prompted him, unable to hide the smile from your voice. 

“What, I can’t look at you instead?” Christopher crooned back. “C’mere. Come, sit on my lap. Sitting across from me, what are you, a client?”

You shook your head, laughing at Christopher’s incessant demands to always be close to you, always be looking at you. He was always touchy-feely and lovey-dovey. His affinity for physical touch lurked not so far beyond the cold mobster exterior. You got up anyway, slinked over to him, and sat. One leg crossed over the other, the skin of one thigh sinking into the other. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his chin into your shoulder, gazing up at you. 

“Your hair looks nice,” Christopher commented, gently grabbing a handful of your fresh auburn-colored braids and stroking his hand through the gaps.

“Oh, thank you,” you snaked a hand through your hair, tilting your head so you could see Christopher better. 

“You go to that salon? Put it on my card?”

“Of course, baby. Thank you,” you smiled coyly, kissing his cheek with a loud smack.

“You just tell me anytime you need to get your hair done. With you, it’s every two weeks, but I can’t complain.”

You snickered,

“Yeah, until I make you sit there and wait for me for six hours to get some braids.”

“I dunno how you do it. You’ve got patience like nobody else,” Christopher replied, pushing some of your braids to the other side.

“We have patience like no other.”

Christopher looked down at your skirt— a tight pencil skirt that matched the brown hues of your skin and hugged your curves nicely. You matched it with a blazer and a white blouse. You looked so sexy and professional, and elegant.

“And this skirt,” Christopher continued, layering on the compliments with a renewed curiosity, the kind of curiosity that wanted to know what was under the skirt. His hands, rough and large, found their way onto your lap and your thigh. His hands, marred and toughened from his profession, felt nothing like your buttery smooth skin, but still, you found yourself melting into his touch. Your wispy lashes brushed against your cheek as your eyes fluttered slightly closed. 

“Burberry. You like it?” you bit down on your lip, giving him doe eyes as you craned your neck to coo at him. 

A deep smirk set on Christopher’s lips and his thick brows rose slightly. His hands left your body for only a moment to raise up in the air as if considering the question, then they were right back where they belonged, 

“Do I like it? I wanna fuck you with it on.”

Your mouth dropped.

“Christopher!” you enunciated each syllable, glaring back at him with twinkling, faux scandalized wide eyes. 

“What? I can’t be honest anymore?” Christopher asked, his words beginning to sound muffled as he pressed his lips against your neck ever-so-gently, but enough so that you could feel it. “I’m Catholic. Lying is a sin.”

“What’re you doing, Chris?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes amusedly. You wouldn’t keep up this facade for long, but he would play along and break down your walls. 

“You smell so fucking good,” Christopher practically inhaled your scent, his big nose pressed against the nape of your neck. “You got more of this stuff?”

You frowned slightly, remembering that you were savoring the last of it,

“I’m almost out.”

“I’ll get you more,” Christopher replied immediately. “Make that your signature scent.”

You chuckled at Christopher’s insistence, his matter-of-fact way of speaking about certain things. Not controlling, but honest about what he wanted. 

“Okay, I will,” you grinned. 

Christopher pushed away your braids so that one side of your neck was completely bare for him to continue peppering kisses upon. It was clear to you that he wanted more than just this, as sweet as it was. And you wanted it too, but not without teasing him first. 

“I want you right now,” Christopher said, a certain desperation tinged in his voice that only you could provoke. He knew he’d have you, and could have you… but still, every time, he seemed to rescind into this character of the enthralled lover boy who didn’t quite have the girl. Like he was still ordering sandwiches from the other side of the counter and telling you to keep the change. 

“Christopher! You’re at work. What if someone hears?”

Christopher snorted through his nose, 

“I don’t give a fuck. ‘Sides, only thing those jerkoffs can hear is the sound of their own 

mouth-breathing.”

You giggled, but half-heartedly, trying to catch your breath. Christopher wasn’t the only one who was defenseless in this relationship. You wouldn’t be able to guess it right away, but he had you wrapped around his finger too, right along with his Cuban ring. Everything he did positively enraptured you, even if it made him dangerous. But when you were with him, everything was swathed in the softest fabrics, and the air smelled of fresh linen and fields of flowers. None of the blood and tears that his work consisted of. 

You crumpled under his touch, easily. He knew you, mind, soul, and more presently, body. The room was silent, bar for the slightest sounds of lips against your neck and fabric swishing against itself as he eased his hand further up your thigh, pushing underneath your skirt. By now his kisses against your neck had you tilting your head back in pleasure, your lips slightly parted. You could feel the outline of his cock against your ass and wanted nothing more than to get closer. Each time you saw each other it was like you hadn’t seen each other in years, would never see each other again. The passion never dissipated. 

His hand crept further and further until it reached the side of your panties, lifting the elastic band and then letting it slap against your skin. His kisses against your neck grew deeper and traveled up to your chin, his other hand wrapped around your waist tightly. You gasped slightly at Chris’ suggestive touch.

“Christopher…” you whispered, your voice reduced to a weak shiver, lids becoming heavy. 

“What?” he responded, his breath heavy. 

“Please, I need you to touch me.”

“Where?” Christopher asked, fighting the smile that was pulling at his lips. 

“Here!” you exclaimed with desperation, grabbing his hand and pressing it against the center of your panties where there was a wet mark. 

“Oh, there,” Christopher replied, fingers pressing into you over the delicate fabric. 

“Yes, please,” you whimpered, your whole body beginning to tense up as if preparing for sweet impact. 

You were relieved when you felt him push your panties to the side and you could finally feel his fingers against your flesh, prodding at your folds as if collecting your wetness along his fingertips. 

“You’re always so wet,” he shuddered, wasting no time and pushing a thick finger into your hole, making you nearly jump out of your seat on his lap. Instead, though, you simply arched your hips up against his finger, letting out a deep exhale. “And so warm.”

“Oh!” you yelped out in pleasant shock when Christopher added another finger, fully stretching you out now and sending a buzzing vibration up your spine. 

“Thought you didn’t want anybody to hear us?” Christopher taunted you, lips hot against your ear. 

“Ugh,” you moaned, rolling your eyes. “Just—please.”

“Please what?” Christopher asked, all while quickening the pace of his fingers inside you, switching from slow, scissoring motions to a fast slam that caused you to collapse against his chest, your legs pried open. Christopher moaned to himself at the feeling of your wet slick against his fingers, the way he could feel you getting wetter as he pushed his fingers in and out of your hot entrance. 

“Please fuck me,” you whined, your voice taking on an entirely new high pitch as you jolted into the pleasure and the change of pace. 

“‘M gonna fuck you, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” Christopher kept pushing his learned fingers into you, hitting your g-spot with ease. “Gonna make you take my cock.”

“M-mhm,” you gasped out. Chris wanted to see this through, but the way he was straining against his pants was killing him. It was painful not to be able to be inside of you. 

“Fuck, I’m taking this off,” he announced, and you both fumbled together to unzip your skirt and toss it onto the floor. His pants and boxers came next, along with your panties. All thrown carelessly around the room. Then he lifted you and turned you around so you were facing him, straddling him on his desk chair. You were already desperately grinding against the base of his cock, your arousal trailing up his shaft. 

“You’re such a fucking slut,” Christopher’s voice seemed to grind into a growl as he watched you roll your hips desperately against his cock. 

“Please,” you pouted, his words passing through you like a gust of wind— you hardly registered them. You were too busy grabbing at his cock and trying to 

“Why’d you really come here, huh? To get fucked?”

You hated and loved how easy it was for him to turn you into putty. 

more soon i promithhh <3 keep me on my toes yall

[sissa-arrows]

Albert Camus could not conceive of Algerian independence, nor could he conceive of himself as separate from French Algeria. It was his “red line in the sand,” the boundary which should not be crossed, the ultimate taboo. Algeria was the jewel in France’s colonial empire, so important that the French authorities considered it a region of France. It was not just a military conquest; it was an administrative one as well. Camus was defined and defined himself by colonial Algeria and could not live without it. Yet the paradox is that Camus persuasively uses the rhetoric of humanism while supporting French sovereignty over Algeria. Many of Albert Camus’ arguments are vastly identical to those trotted out today regarding Palestine.

“What is illegitimate in Arab demands ? The desire to regain a life of dignity and freedom, the total loss of confidence in any political solution backed by France, and the romanticism of some very young and politically unsophisticated insurgents have led certain Algerian fighters and their leaders to demand national independence. No matter how favourable one is to Arab demands, it must be recognized that to demand national independence for Algeria is a purely emotional response to the situation. There has never been an Algerian nation. The Jews, Turks, Greeks, Italians and Berbers all have a claim to lead this virtual nation. At the moment, the Arabs themselves are not the only constituent of that nation. In particular, the French population is large enough [c. 1/9], and it has been settled long enough [c. 150 years], to create a problem that has no historical precedent. The French of Algeria are themselves an indigenous population in the full sense of the word. Furthermore, a purely Arab Algeria would not be able to achieve economic independence, without which political independence is not real. French efforts in Algeria, however inadequate, have been sufficient that no other power is prepared to assume responsibility for the country at the present time.” — Algerian Chronicles

Camus is like the “Israeli left” and a part of the Western Left in general who cannot conceive the total liberation of Palestine. That’s why I said that if they actually cared they would have more “porteurs de valises” and less Albert Camus.

The porteurs de valises who were settlers totally conceived a free Algeria in their mind and they saw themselves living there as ALGERIANS and they did. They also acknowledged that as settlers they had bias and they worked on those bias (I made a post with the testimony of on of those men and how he realized that he had racist bias against Arabs and how he eventually realized that even if he was white his people were not French people but Algerians…) Most of those settlers who fought alongside our grandparents did not leave because they were kicked out at the independence. They left as refugees during the Black decade and had to fill the SAME paperwork as other Algerians. (I could talk about the 121’s Manifest but given that some of the people who signed it turned around and became Zionists I think the manifest was more about white people wanting a clear conscience they did put the right to not be an oppressor on the same level as the right to not be oppressed)

Camus on the other hand was racist he was a product of settler colonialism. You cannot steal, dispossess, oppress a people for over a century unless you don’t see them as fully human. He kept equating the resistance with the oppressor he kept pretending to condemn violence on “both sides” but when he was asked to sign the letter condemning the systematic use of torture by France against Algerians he refused to sign it. He also kept implying Algeria didn’t exist before France anyway. He also showed his lack of knowledge on history by claiming everyone had a right to Algeria anyway not just “Arabs” because Algeria had been part of the Roman Empire and the Ottoman Empire. Jews as a whole have zero rights over Algeria. Imazighen Jews had a right over Algeria because they were Imazighen not because they were Jews. If Turks, Italian, Greeks had a right over Algeria then we have a right over the south of France, over Spain, over Sicily, over Greece because some Roman leaders were Imazighen and because Al Andalus existed.

But what’s maybe one of my biggest issue with Camus, probably because that’s still happening to these days. Is how his position would require only Algerians to compromise. Settlers were simply asked to stop the killing and to pretend to see Algerians as equal humans that’s not a fucking compromise. Algerians on the other hand were asked to pretend that nothing had happened? Those white settlers who had killed your sons and nephews on May 8th 1945 in Setif and around? They never got punished for it. They never even expressed regrets they were proud of it. Algerians were asked to just forget about it to pretend it never happened. The guy who stole your father’s land and is making money from that land? In Camus’ Algeria he gets to keep that land in exchange he must pretend Algerians are equal. The Algerian has to pretend that land was never stolen that he doesn’t have a right to it. In Camus’ vision for Algeria only the Algerian is asked to actually make compromise so the white man gets to be cleaned of his sins.

To these days in the West, PoC are the one asked to make compromises all the fucking time (sometimes on a smaller scale sometimes not). “vote for the lesser of two evils it will be easier to fight and we will help”. Once the lesser of two evils is elected the people who told us to compromise don’t respect their part of the deal they actually call us out when we protest. Because those “deals” are not meant to save us all they are meant to save white people. Because the lesser of two evils doesn’t affect them and their lives so they will be able to afford staying comfortably at home and criticize us for still fighting.

That’s why what I resent the most about Camus is that “let’s make a compromise” attitude that actually only requires compromises from Algerians while settlers get to keep up with their lives the same exact way except they have to pretend they see us as humans. I would believe in the genuine intent behind these compromises (while still being against it) if reparation was mentioned for example but no, settlers get to live the exact same way as they did before they just get absolved of their crimes without ever getting justice. Meanwhile Algerians are asked to pretend nothing happened.

Just like I previously said that a settler colony cannot create settlers without racist bias and that they need to work on those bias, a settler colony also cannot create indigenous people who are not oppressed. Every single Algerian family has a fucked up story to tell about the horror of colonialism. Every single Palestinian family has a fucked up story to tell about the horror of colonialism. Every single Native of Turtle Island family has a fucked up story to tell about the horror of colonialism. I could go on, the point is you can’t ask people to just pretend it never happened because now the settlers are pretending to see you as a human.

[arotaro]

I love voidpunk but I’m also curious about if there are any guidelines or rules, like what things are allowed and what things aren’t? /genq sorry if you’ve answered this before or answered something similar and I missed it I’m not super pro at finding stuff 😭 also double sorry if it’s an offensive question to ask. I’m genuinely not trying to offend you I’m just trying to learn more and since I’m kind of a baby queer I want to make sure the words I use fit me.

You can check the voidpunk tag on my blog, since I have talked about it before, but I'll go over some quick points:

There is no "requirement" for participating in voidpunk. Anyone who tells you "oh, only such-and-such group can be voidpunk" or anything along those lines is lying. HOWEVER:

The "punk" part of voidpunk is not there for no reason. It is tied to the punk subculture and it's best to have a general understanding of this subculture before participating in voidpunk. Also, voidpunk is specifically a reaction to dehumanization, and it's important to understand that certain people experience this more than others. People of color get dehumanized. Disabled people get dehumanized. People with personality disorders get dehumanized. Trans people get dehumanized. Aspecs get dehumanized. etc. etc. We are here to call attention to and take power away from this, not to be niceys about it. I left the voidpunk subreddit and its associated Discord server because it was full of entitled white cunts who acted like they couldn't possibly be racist because they were autistic or some shit and I was being sooooo mean and disruptive for asking them not to be blatantly racist, and I just want to make it clear that if this had been a real life social group and not an online space, I would have knocked their teeth out. Understand? That said, you don't have to be every oppressed minority ever to participate in voidpunk- you just have to be respectful and willing to listen.

One misconception I see very often is that voidpunk is some sort of personal identity along the lines of otherkin, etc. This is not true. Voidpunk is an aesthetic and philosophy, NOT about genuinely believing yourself to be inhuman. There certainly may be people who identify as both voidpunk and otherkin, or what have you, and that's fine! That's cool! I love those people. But they're not synonymous and should not be treated as such. You don't assume I'm really a vampire because I'm goth, right?

Also, the "void" part of voidpunk doesn't really mean anything. Genuinely, it was chosen because it sounds cool. I think another misconception I see sometimes is that voidpunk specifically is about like, literal voids or shadows or black holes or space or something, which is not true. It's kinda whatever. There are as many flavors of voidpunk as there are blue guys in the X-Men.

Have fun!

[kick-a-long]

"look at those haircuts, clothing and body types. those aren't leftists" WHAT THE FUCKK

ok, this is very important to me:

those men have military style hair cuts, short and neat, and they have pressed and laundered all black cloths. in the case of the dude on the left he has expensive and European looking cloths with a spotless luxurious leather jacket and trendy drop pants. he's also a natural blond or rich enough to not have blond roots showing. he's dressed expensive.

the guy on the right is dressed like he shops at the stores most people can afford or lower. they are matching, so they coordinated before hand.

if you look at their body types they are very different. the guy on the left is very clean cut, slender and looks camera ready. he is at this protest in front of a camera and he could not care less. he's relaxed and unbothered by being on film. this implies some level of experience being on film. he also has the rubber gloves on which is wiiieeeerrrd.

now the guy on the right in both his attitude about being on camera and his body type looks like he works a lower paying job and is excited to be seen. he works out A LOT and is unafraid/excited to be associated with hezbollah. and not just that, he is BURLY AND TALL. that guy looks like he works at a job with a lot of physical requirements. he doesn't eat or shop or live where the other guy does. he isn't a body builder bulking, he looks strong in a practical way. you may not have ever seen a bouncer but that guy looks way bigger and more physically active than a bouncer.

so these two people who previously knew each other, together on their own, even if they are leftists fringe enough to have those kinds of jobs, that's strange. it's strange that they would be standing in the park holding a pro terrorist sign and one of them is kinda bored about it. unless their jobs some how both intersect with being pro terrorist. ask yourself where do two guys from different economic backgrounds and VERY extreme opinions meet up? they are older than college age. they don't even look like they are the same age. they don't look like they have the same amount of free time, they don't even look like they should know each other. the most logical conclusion in my mind is that are both neonazis and one is on the media side and the other is his back up.

also... like why are you so die hard about people who support hezbollah and their sex trading racist asses being possible leftists? these two men, whoever they are, are shameful to be associated with. i never said they were ugly or good looking, frankly it's a moot question to me because they scare the absolute living daylights out of me for all the reasons above AS WELL AS THAT THEY ARE IN MY CITY AND CARRYING A SIGN SUPPORTING TERRORIST SEX SLAVERS.

what people look like says A LOT about their background and who they want you to see them as. there's a lot you can't change for a casual one day thing. you are saying I'm putting a value judgment on that, i am telling you the information you can pick up from it. you do this all the time when you think to yourself, "that person looks like a cop or a narc." or "that person looks gay enough to ask out." if they only had access to cloths that were in vouge for leftist, looked like they lived lifestyles that are popular with leftists, with leftist jobs, with hair styles that were popular among leftists, even in plain black cloths i would be less sure.

stop pretending like you can't tell things about people by looking at the way they present themselves for moral purity points. these dudes are fucking dangerous to anyone around them, life itself, and I'm dead serious when i tell you and anyone who will listen to look out for monsters like this.

[loulovingho]

i'm pissed right now about a lot of personal things and I'm gonna take it out by talking about 911 shit and how people refuse to let tommy grow as a character but take up for literally all the other screw ups on the show. under a cut so you can avoid:

going on instagram is always a mistake but i went on there anyway and people are just being absolute pieces of shit. i do not know a single character on 911 that hasn't fucked up in some way but tommy is the only one not worthy of redemption. i know why, we all know why, but i do not understand why the dipshits that ship buddie so fiercely are so stupid as to not recognize that their little babies are fucked up too.

eddie left his wife and reenlisted because he couldn't handle being a dad, especially to a handicapped kid. then he got pissed when his wife asked for help, asked to go see her family. honestly, do not blame his parents one bit for wanting custody of christopher. they fucking raised him! eddie still relies on the people around him to take care of his needs. he had a one sided friendship with lena, asks buck to babysit more than hangout, was getting flights to vegas out of tommy, and used his girlfriends as glorified babysitters as well. also cheated on his girlfriend with a dead wife lookalike???

hen cheated on her wife for no fucking reason, then spent the next episode all smug when everyone else got their karma for being garbage, and they had karen take her back after like one episode apart?

bobby got his entire family killed.

athena regularly abuses her power as a police officer when it benefits her or her family.

chimney basically lied through the first relationship we ever saw him in, and was a horrible captain.

maddie doesn't know the meaning of staying in your lane and getting the fuck out of other peoples business. she should have been fired a few times over.

buck cheated on his girlfriend, asked her to move in instead of being honest with her, and basically trapped her with him. he also stole firetrucks to go have sex while at work, which he very much should have (permanently) been fired for.

they're all screw ups and that's the whole point!! that they're trying to be better and do better and learn from their past. Everyone gets a free pass but tommy. maybe it's because I relate to him so much, because I once was the old version of him (probably worse tbh) and I worked really fucking hard on myself to be better and do better. i guess it's personal for me because I honestly relate to him more than any of the other characters, but it's also really fucking stupid to be so hateful toward a fictional character and real live person because you want two specific characters (one of whom's actor has said REPEATEDLY is straight) to kiss.

and for all the assholes who want to claim that lou is racist or whatever the fuck you've decided he is this week, I seriously suggest you research a certain regular actor on the show a bit further before you come to me with that shit.

in conclusion, ship whoever you want, i don't give a shit, but stop pretending your character is an angel when in reality they all suck because all humans in general suck!

[mentally-unstable-hottie13]

⭐️ 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬⭐️

Henry Bowers x fem reader

Read chapter 2 here

Summery:

You were new to the town of Derry. After some traumatic events that went down with your family, an old friend asked you to come to his town. He’d give you a place to rest while you figure things out. This town is strange and seems to be stuck in the past. What happens when you garner the attention of a boy who no one dares piss off?

A/N: this story is set in “modern” times but the town of Derry is more old fashioned. So roller rinks, arcades and record stores are still the places to go. Phones and video games as well as modern tv and music exist; it’s just more common to do “80’s activities”.

Henry’s actor when playing him was 18. so I’m saying the losers club freshman going into sophomore year while the Bowers gang is going into senior year having been 18 from being held back a year. You as a reader have an early birthday meaning you turn 18 a few weeks before school starts. The reader inserted character will be Latina coded and speaks Spanish but is never explicitly stated to be Latina . This is also a no Pennywise AU. If something is not specified in the story please feel free to fill in the gaps.

TRIGGER WARNING: this series may have;

Mention of past sexual assault

Mention of child abuse

Graphic bullying

On page child abuse

Fighting

Recreational drug use

Swearing

Shitty parents

Homophobic comments and actions (from the bowers gang)

Racist comments and actions (from the bowers gang)

This list is subject to change and at any time may be added to or things may be subtracted from.

In the end this story will be a love story but that does not mean it won’t be dark at some points.

the first few chapters will be dedicated to you and your backstory before we even touch the other characters. I made your character extremely real and flawed on purpose, but that does not mean you and Henry won’t eventually happen. Be patient, and enjoy.

Word count: 2,679

Estimated read time: 12

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Chapter one

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧

You were currently riding the bus into a small town you had never even heard of. This town was so small and isolated you weren’t sure you’d ever even seen it on a fucking map. Coming from a big town in Texas, this “Derry” place seemed so untouched to you. It was miles of trees, grass planes and old people. You hadn’t seen a major chain food place or clothes store since you entered. Oo scratch that, you just passed a McDonald’s that looks straight from a vintage photo.

This bus was disgusting. Old torn up cloth seats with mysterious stains of no conceivable origin. The man the rows ahead of you and to the left smelt like hookers and cigarettes. The woman on the parallel row to you on the right was out like a light and snoring like an old steam engine. The lights in the bus flickered. giving you a headache. You hoped you were getting off soon. All the sounds, smells, lights, as well as the gross sticky/wet feeling of the seat beneath you was making you feel sick.

It’s overcast today. It smells like rain. You loved that smell. The amazing scent of petrichor in your nostrils always soothed you. It looks as if it just rained. You hoped it will rain again today. That would make a bad day good. Even if just for a few minutes. You don’t know how long you sat on there, eyes closed inhaling the heavenly zephyr of wet air, but it must have been a while; because before you knew it the bus driver called out your stop number. Before slowing to a crawling pace.

As he started to slow the bus you gathered your things. The bus stopped and you made your way to the front. You smiled gently at the old male driver and asked him to help you get your bags out of the compartment on the outside of the bus. He happily stood and assisted you gathering all your bags. 5 to be exact. 2 were big with wheels while the other three were able to be stacked atop the wheely ones.

“You sure you can take all that to where you’re going little miss?” The old driver kindly asked.

“I’m sure. Thanks for the concern, mister. Have a good day.” You waved to the old man. And just like that. You were on your way. Your friend had texted you directions from the bus stop to his work. All you had to do was walk. Given being on what seemed to be the outer part of town, there was a very noticeable lack of sidewalks making your journey just that much harder. 20 minutes later you hit the part of town with sidewalks. No one was really out today. Which made sense. It was just raining. A total of 45 minutes of walking and you were finally at the record store.

You push the door open with a huff. You hear the bell above the door jingle with a direct succession of a man yelling,

“HOLD ON I’M IN THE BACK!”

You giggle, and set your bags to the side of the door so no one will trip over them if they come in. Once all your bags are settled you follow where you heard the voice come from. From the open doorway you see your old friend, Kevin, hunched over a box under a table, rummaging through the contents. You lean against the door frame and knock gently on it. Surprised. Kevin jumps and hits his head on the underside of the table with a loud “OW! FUCK!” Before turning to the culprit of the incident. You.

His eyes widen and he gets up and runs to hug you, you jump up and hug him. Wrapping your legs around him. He doesn't let you go for a long while.

You missed Kevin. You’d known him since you were little (about five years old). He was a good 20 years older than you. The story goes that you met his little brother Issac when their family still lived in Texas. You and Isaac had Been enrolled into the same kindergarten class and were inseparable ever since. You’d become close with Isaac’s family. It was just him, Kevin and their mom. Who you only ever knew as Momma.Momma loved you so much she let you make the spare room in their house yours for when you spent time over there. And given your family life, that was often.

When you were 12 Issac was diagnosed with leukemia.

He died shortly after he was diagnosed. You loved him so much. He was your best friend, and you were so close to Kevin and Momma, they were your family. After Isaac’s death Momma couldn’t take being in a town that reminded her so much of her son. So they moved to a different state. Even though Kevin was 32 at the time he saw you as a little sister and gave you his number so you could keep contact. With a tear filled goodby and one last kiss on the cheek from Momma they left and never came back to visit you. Kevin told you momma died 2 years ago from a brain aneurysm. It broke your heart. But you knew Kevin was suffering more. So as much as you needed to come to Derry, he needed it too. He needed his last bit of family back.

He set you down from the hug and ruffled your hair as tears dripped from your eyes. You missed him far more than words could ever describe.

“Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not going away ever again.” He hugged you again this time not lifting you off the ground.

You laughed and punched him in the arm. “You better fuckin not loser, I’ll have’ta hunt you down and kill you”

You both laughed. He motioned out the door and you stepped aside so he could show you around. He’s owned this record store since he moved here. The previous owner was this ancient man who was pretty much giving it away. The building itself was paid off so Kevin never had to pay rent. All the furniture and merchandise from the last owner stayed so Kevin took over the very next day. Business was good. He sold record players, vinyls, cds, guitars and posters. It looked exactly like how your rooms looked in Momma's house. When Kevin told you to come to Derry he offered you a job here so you didn’t have to feel like you were only relying on him for money. He would pay you just above minimum wage and let you use your money on whatever you wanted and he would pay for your food.

You agreed and he sent you a plane ticket from Texas to Derry, then a bus ticket to get into town because the nearest airport was about 3 towns and 5 hours away. Just shows you how redneck this place is.

He looked at your bags and grabbed his keys.

“My truck is outside. Get your bags and toss em’ in the tailgate while I lock up for the day.” He said

“You got it dude.” With a quick salute you picked up the bags and walked outside. It was definitely going to rain again. You walked to the alley next to the shop and saw his beat up old red truck. Thankfully he had a tailgate cover so none of your stuff was gonna get wet. You lugged all the bags in before shutting it. Just on time Kevin came out and told you to “hop in”. You looked out the window the whole 30 minutes from the shop to his house. Occasionally looking at something special when he pointed it out. The school is a 10 minute drive and 30 minute walk to the record store. Maybe if Kev had a spare bike it could be a 20 minute ride. You drive down a dirt road where the homes are few and far between. As if Kevin could hear you wondering, he piped up.

“This is all personal farmland. That’s why there aren’t many people over here.”

You pass a specific house with a police cruiser out front.

“That there is officer Bowers land. I’m not one to tell you what to do, but I’d be smart and stay away from there. That pig is bad news.”

You nod in understanding. If Kevin warned you of anything. He meant it. It started to rain as You finally pulled up to an old gate, and Kevin tossed some keys at you and told you to get out and unlock the gate so he could drive in. Once the truck was in enough you shut the gate and locked it behind you running up to the truck and getting in again. You drove in a little before pulling up and parking in front of a smaller gate just surrounding the house.

“It’s just so no animals get in the house” Kevin grumbled,

He unlocked the tailgate then the house gate and helped you get all your things in the house quickly before shutting and locking his truck and the gate. Once inside you took off your muddy boots and looked around. It was a nice home. Kevin picked up both of your heaviest bags and nodded upstairs for you to follow him with the three smaller bags. He beats you to your room and sets your things down. As you are entering he flops down on your bed. He took care of all your furniture. You have a bed with black and purple bed sheets. 2 dressers in black and a desk with a tv. You walk up to some floor length curtains and open them only to find that you have a small balcony. He left everything else in the room pretty bare with a lot of extra room for you to decorate and make yours, you appreciate it.

He gives a loud, ugly groan that reminds you of growing up. Life is almost exactly how it used to be. With Kevin you picked up where you left off. You take off your coat and flop down on the bed beside him and give that same ugly, over dramatic groan, then you look at each other. You want to cry again. You didn’t think you’d see him again. But a series of unfortunate events led you to a better living situation with a man you loved too much. Your only friend. The almost 38 year old that still acts 19. You think that’s why y’all get along so well. He moves his eyes to your arm. The arm where a tattoo from the back of your shoulder to just above your wrist sits. It is a tattoo of Thorny vines cascading down your flesh. They aren’t big or obnoxious. The reference was a photo you took of you holding real thorn vines onto your arm. Its beautifully realistic and that’s just what you wanted. It would be much easier to hide here than in Texas. You could wear long sleeves because of the colder weather. Whereas in Texas if you wore anything other that a tee shirt you would overheat and die. The last feeling you ever want to experience again is being gross and sweaty in a long sleeve. Feeling the moist fabric against your arms would make you want to cut and peel your own skin off with the dullest rustiest spoon you could find in a prison cell.

“When did you get that?” He points to the tattoo.

“After Momma died. I felt like I needed something for her.” You replied.

“What’s it mean?”

“It means how I saw her. She was beautiful like vines crawling up a building but scary as thorns. I wanted to be just like her. I thought that if I get thorns on me I wouldn’t feel so scared.” You looked up at the ceiling as you spoke.

“I bet you and I are the only people alive to call that fuckin women beautiful” he chuckled.

He was right. Momma was not an objectively attractive woman… well at least not after Kevin was about 2. She had given birth to him when she was like.. 17 or so. She died in her early to mid 50’s. The boy that got her pregnant bailed after he found out, Leaving her alone to raise Kevin. After it got out around town that she was knocked up her parents kicked her out. She was a good student. All A’s with a scholarship to her dream school. She was working at a hotel where the manager was letting her live in one of the rooms, and she finished her last year of high school. A few days into summer that year she gave birth. Only 2 months into having Kevin the hotel fired her because of all the noise complaints of the baby crying. She had nowhere else to go and showed up at her parents' doorstep. She stayed with them for a year after all the begging she did. Near the end of that year she heard her parents talk about taking custody of the baby and she fled. Walking alone in the streets that night with a one year old baby it began to rain. In a panic to keep her baby warm she ran into the nearest building.

A bar.

All eyes were on her. A young girl with brown hair and bright blue eyes holding a baby had just walked into the roughest bar in town. Her makeup was smeared from crying and she was soaked to the bone from trying to keep her baby dry. She walked past all the men and sat down at the bar. The old kind bartender looked at her with wide eyes. Partly because she was wet and looked like she was crying, but mostly because who the fuck brings baby into a bar like this?

She and the bartender had got to talking and he gave her a job and told her she could stay in the room above the bar. He’d help her sound proof it and she would be allowed to keep a baby monitor while she works so she can go up anytime she wants. After a year of working there. Kevin turned 2 and Momma realized she was done looking like her parents' daughter. She shaved her head into a bright purple Mohawk and got tattooed anywhere that was possible. Growing up Kevin got to see his Momma as a rough at tough, tattoo having, fight winning, bar maid, who took no one’s shit. She had more muscles than most men at that bar did. And she worked there for as long as she could. Including All throughout her pregnancy with Issac and all the way up until they moved. They eventually moved out of that above bar room when Kevin was about 12. But that’s pretty much the story.

Momma was a wild woman who was tough as nails and scarier than any man. You’d never seen any other woman who looked as wild as her and you loved it. No one could beat Momma. Not even after she died.

You and Kev would always only see that woman as beautiful and tough. And no matter how unconventional their upbringing was. They all agreed that theirs was perfect compared to yours.

While you were deep in thought Kev stood up from the bed. He said your name shaking you from your thoughts.

“Immm booreddd.” He whined. “How about we order some pizza and watch some nasty ass gore movie while we talk about which characters we’d smash?”

You smiled so big your eyes squinted.

“UHH FUCK YEAH DUDE!!” You yelled and jumped up from the bed. You’d unpack and explore the town tomorrow. It was only Friday night. Why not relax with your best friend in the world? Forget about your parents, forget about school, forget about being the new kid. Who the fuck cares? Not you. Especially not when you were about to slam down a whole pizza.

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Thank you for reading. Please tell me if you liked it!

[historicity-was-already-taken]

Welcome New Followers Post xiv

gonna make this bullet points of Things to Know because deadlines, but hi! welcome!

-this is not a jewish identity or a jumblr blog. i am a jewish person and a holocaust historian, so my content often overlaps with those realms of tumblr

-this is first and foremost a public history blog. public history and public historians do history for the public. we're passionate about transmitting complex historical topics from the academe to the people, and we're in constant (one-sided lmao) conversation with entities such as: film writers and producers, textbook writers, government bodies, journalists, etc regarding the construction of public memory, and the responsibilities that entails

-you don't have to ask if something is ok to reblog. I appreciate the thought, but unless I turn off reblogs or specifically ask people not to engage in certain ways, you're fine, that said:

-I do see and read all tags, replies, and rbs. I consider them public, and I often respond to them as new posts. If you want to engage with me and don't want others to see, then send me an ask which includes the words "please respond privately"

-You can should disagree with me and tell me when you think I'm wrong! Now, I won't lie, years of existing as a young-appearing hyper feminine (i like skirts and bows and sparkly shoes it is what it is) female, Jewish historian have made me defensive and bitey af, and I often misread neutral tones as "coming for me" tones and respond in kind. I apologize for when/if that happens to you, and I assure that, once I realize you're not coming at me in bad faith, I will feel horribly guilty.

-There is a learning curve here. I don't have any desire to gatekeep my blog (it's the opposite tbh), but I do use high level terms which can have multiple meanings in different contexts. I actively try to avoid using impenetrable academic jargon in this space, but sometimes that jargon is the only appropriate phrasing available. In those cases, I urge you to do some research and poke around and then, if you still don't understand what I mean, DM me.

-I am a white, American woman. I am actively anti-racist, and anti-bigotry in general, but there will be times when I do or say something clueless or privileged. If you see that and you have the energy, please tell me! I want this blog to be a welcome place for all,* and I appreciate call-outs as an opportunity for (un)learning.

-Building on that, this is an anti-bigotry space which I'd like people of all demographics and identities to feel comfortable engaging with.* That said, I don't play nice when some random corner of tumblr rolls up in here and barfs their shit all over my posts.

-I am a cringe millennial. I started this blog in 2011, when I was 21, had just finished college, before I'd heard back from any graduate schools, and before I had much resembling a career. I am currently 34. It's fine. But a lot of you are in your teens and 20s and are just starting on your careers, so like, please don't negatively compare yourselves to me or get self-deprecating when/if you want to contact me. We all learn and achieve at different paces and that's ok.

-My book, The Girl Bandits of the Warsaw Ghetto, will be released in Fall 2025. Trust me I will be screaming from the rooftops and you will not miss the announcements lmao.

-If I don't reply to an ask or a DM, it's not because I hate you. There are 800 reasons why I may not reply, and none of them are personal.

and finally

-I am not your Good Leftist Anti-Zionist Jew. I am not here as a rhetorical cudgel for left-wing anti-Semites who seek out Jews with politics similar to mine to then use as a weapon against other Jewish folks. Don't fucking do it.

*That does not mean that everything I post here will make you feel comfortable. History isn't supposed to make you feel comfortable. Sometimes, it can and should make you feel actively uncomfortable, because that discomfort/cognitive dissonance means you're learning (keep your cognitive dissonance temper tantrums tf away from me, tho). It does mean that I, as an individual, want you all to feel that this is a space where you are welcome to learn and ask questions.

i tried to use bullet points to keep this short, and i failed miserably. on brand.

[xkaidaxxxx]

y/n quieres ser mi novia?

Mentions: fluff, chisme, surprise.

hope you enjoy this! feel to leave a request!

sorry for any errors. 2am writting

“Quién es él?” your grandmother asks. “ Gojo. Mi mejor amigo desde cuando era niña” you responded. Which is a dangerous game in your opinion, due to the bad experiences with her. She always gives out negative vibes. Always watching from afar being jealous and mad. She’s a  rude person, “Por fin puede venir para conocer a todos. Tiene su pasaporte!” you exclaimed looking over at Gojo with a bright smile. “encantado de conocerla señora Gutierrez.” Gojo replied. He took Spanish classes for about a year and his pronunciation is perfect. “Sabes español? eso es sorprendente.” those words left your grandmother's mouth and not in a nice way. Gojo knew she was throwing out an indirect racist comment. You frowned and decided to grab his arm and walk away. “She’s lucky she’s old, otherwise I would’ve dismissed her,”he said with a pout. You smacked him. “Hollow purple,” he continued.

These next 3 weeks are your Christmas and New Years break. Your parents approved of his silly ass joining. Your older brother was weirded out due to him coming when he’s not even your boyfriend. Your younger sister didn’t care. Once you both greeted everyone your cousin allowed you to borrow his room. You'd be using the main bed and your little cousin with her mother and your sister will be using the inflatable beds. You both thanked him. Ale is a kind cousin. Tonight is party night. Food was made and decorations were placed. The guys were outside having a few drinks speaking with Gojo. “Serías un buen hombre para y/n.Por qué es sólo tu amiga?” Your cousin Ale asked. He’s your fav cousin and you guys are the closest to each other. Truth is Gojo and he made a plan to ask you out tonight. Him asking that in front of the other guys was only to tease him. Gojo blushed. His pale face gave it off. “Ella simplemente no está interesada en nadie.” he responded. Ale smirked. 

You somehow fell in love with Gojo and you’re trying to let it go, having the idea in your head that he didn’t feel the same way. A few hours went by and everything was going well. 

“No sé cómo permitiría que y/n trajera a un hombre con ella.” your grandmother said aloud to her favorite daughter making sure you’d hear while serving Gojo a plate of food. “Eso es cierto. Si tuviera una hija, no lo permitiría. Al menos le está sirviendo un plato y él no tiene que levantarse y hacerlo él mismo.” your aunt replied. You walked right past them and went over to Gojo. “Thank you shortcake. I appreciate it.” he smiled as you placed the plate down on the table.” What would you like to drink?” you asked. “I have water here. Thanks. Now go sit down and have fun. Have you eaten yet?” he asked, rubbing your back. “No not yet. I’m going to serve myself right now. Eat your food before it gets cold.” you said smiling. “Go sit down.” he got up and went to the kitchen. You sat down confused. While he served you more family members walked in. Your aunts and cousins walked out back to the party. Gojo came back a few moments later. “Here, shortcake. Eat up. I brought you apple juice. Your favorite.”

The aunts that had walked in were shocked. A man serving you a woman. Your grandparents, aunts besides one and uncles were old fashioned. Women must make and serve the food. They must do all the house cleaning. They must not expose their legs so much. They should always obey what the man says and not respond rudely. 

“Thank you, love.” Gojo never gets tired of you calling him love. As the night went on some of your aunts were talking behind your back. 

When the clock striked 2am you were playing loteria. You took that game super seriously. You suddenly saw mariachi getting in a line and started playing a song. You were confused on why they haven’t sung yet. Then Gojo appeared with two large bouquets of roses. One was a regular and the other was filled with money with cute little snacks in between. He sang such a romantic song. As you took the bouquets you saw your cousin recording and instantly you knew he helped Gojo. When the song ended Ale took the bouquets and Gojo held your hand. “ Y/n quieres ser mi novia?” he asked. You nodded and said “Yes I’d love to you idiot!” He then took out a very fancy box. He opened it. It revealed a necklace and a pair of earrings. You were shocked when you saw the brand name. “G-Gojo I can’t. That's very expensive.” you spoke. He rolled his eyes and said, “It's perfect for you. You’ll look amazing. Turn for me please.” you turned around and lifted your hair up. He put the necklace and earrings on you. You saw the jealous faces plastered on your aunts except your favorite one. When you turned around you looked up at Gojo. Him and his tall ass. He leaned down and passionately kissed you. The kiss was passionate but short due to everyone looking.

 Once everyone else left and those who stayed were all in bed you had walked downstairs to grab water bottles. You heard your aunts speaking. “Viste cómo le servía la comida? Eso es perezoso de su parte.”your aunt lupita said. “Y viste cómo estaba vestida, está básicamente desnuda.” your aunt maria replied to her. You were wearing a regular shirt with shorts and a pair of converse. The shorts were the issue to their conservative asses. “Necesita ayuda. Necesita que la arreglen.” aunt Irma responded. “Son tiempos nuevos. Me alegro que mi sobrina tenga un buen hombre a su lado. Un hombre que se preocupa por ella. Ella merece un hombre bueno y amoroso.No vuelvan a hablar mal de ella. Ah, y para su información, no olvides que ella le atendió primero.” your favorite aunt letty said defending you. “Viste la cantidad que le sirvió? Está gorda.” lupita commented. 

Gojo was wondering why you were taking so long and when he reached you downstairs he heard her comment about your weight. “Déjala en paz. Ella es muy bonita y simpática. salgan de mi casa ahora.” letty said. Gojo got angry and walked out exposing himself. “Deberían avergonzarse de sí mismas. Hablar mal de su propia familia es inaceptable. Dios las perdone.” he said to her. They were shocked that you and him heard and left. “gracias por defenderme tia te amo” you said. You girls hugged. “Yo también te amo mija. Andale a dormir que es tarde.” she said as she let go. You nodded yes and she left for her room. Tears slipped down your cheeks and Gojo wiped them away. “You are the most beautiful person. I love the way you smile and your dimples are even more visible. Your thighs are very sexy. Your tummy is cute and I bet it's soft. You’re very beautiful and sexy at the same time. I love your personality and body. You’re perfect.” he said. You smiled and sniffled. “Really?” you asked. “ Yes baby,”he responded. You both grabbed water bottles and went back upstairs. When you settled down in bed he pulled you close. His arm was on your stomach and you could feel his breath on you. You’re his teddy bear. You love his touch and he makes you relax. You slept like there was no tomorrow. You both felt safe in each other's arms. 

As time passed by you both showed and told how much you loved each other. On your second year anniversary he asked your hand in marriage and obviously your cousin helped him with the idea. It was perfect. Eventually the wedding came along. You happily didn’t invite those who talk trash about you and your husband. When you had baby number one. He was a copy and paste of his father.You guys decided to have a S family. His name is Sakuya Gojo. He was a wild one. Very adorable but wild. You then had a little girl. She has beautiful brown skin with your brown hair and her daddy’s bright blue eyes. Gojo spoiled them rotten. To the point where you gave him only 10 gifts a month limit. “Mommy quiero un hermanito!! Suki is so annoying!!!” Sakuya yelled. Suki cried holding her stuffed lion. “Sakuya, that's very rude. She’s your little sister. Te quiere mucho.” you responded carrying Suki holding her. “Shh baby it’s okay.” Gojo put Sakuya in timeout for 30 minutes. Once Sakuya’s timeout was over he went over to his little sister who was drawing a dinosaur and apologized. “Suki I am sorry…eres mi hermanita y I love you.” she got up and hugged him “kay love you too big brother.” Sakuya was happy she forgave him. 

Before getting into bed Gojo smirked. “I wouldn’t mind one more. What do you say, Mrs.Gojo? Another mini us running around?” he asked, spanking you. You whimpered at the spank and blushed. “Y-Yes one more, sólo uno” you responded. That failed. The Gojo family turned out to be a family of 9. 

Kids: (eldest to youngest)

1)Sakuya Gojo(m)

2)Suki Gojo(f)

3)Seiji Gojo(m)

4)Seina Gojo(m)

5)Saori Gojo(f)

6)Shiori Gojo (m)

7) Sage Sparkles Gojo (M cat) 

Parents:

Satoru Gojo

Y/n Gojo