#anyway that’s younger than I thought like I thought more millennials would be on here

[communistkenobi]

the tumblr press page says 48% of users are Gen Z, so aged 12-27. and this website says 40% Gen Z and 30% Millennial although idk how trustworthy that is. either way those are unfortunately useless categories for purposes of figuring out who is rent-paying age versus who just started highschool

[hex-flareheart]

at the moment I haven't had enough time with Violet to have any real fully-formed thoughts about it other than "I'm having fun" and "this game really needed at least 6 more months", but there is one thing that's been lowkey bugging me, with respect to a thought process kicked off by one Dan RTGame

he made a comment with respect to Iono that I found really interesting- noting basically that her entire deal with being a streamer and being extremely unsubtle about her priorities in that respect is probably how Nintendo sees streamers. this was mostly a one-off comment, but it really got me thinking, and I realize I'm probably overthinking this, but.

I think he might have a point there. Iono very much reads like a stereotype. Like, the same kind of stereotype as the whole "millennials (or insert other younger generation here) are lazy, unmotivated, ungrateful, and glued to their phones" thing boomers love. It's not the same type of demographic, but it really feels like the same kind of reductive, hostile stereotype.

On some level I doubt this was exactly Game Freak's intention with Iono, but given Nintendo's very real influence on them despite both Game Freak and Pokemon as a franchise not actually being theirs, and the fact that Nintendo having this kind of impression of streamers is not only not an unreasonable assumption, but kind of precedented given their history with YouTube creators, it's not unreasonable to think this kind of thinking wound up being an influence, and thus resulting in a caricature of greedy streamers.

I imagine if this post somehow were to break containment someone would invariably be like "oh but all gym leaders are stereotypes". to which I say, a) this is literally demonstrably false if you take a deeper look at any of the past games, even Raihan has more depth than Iono (though that may be in part due to (as far as I know) getting more screentime), and b) that's not even a good excuse anyway, stereotypes are inherently lazy writing. you are literally just copy/pasting a common, often reductive and potentially harmful, impression of an entire demographic. at bare minimum major-ish named characters like gym leaders deserve more effort than that. (this is not to say that it's necessarily acceptable to have filler characters be stereotypes, mind, just that it's particularly bad to have actual named characters just be stereotypes.)

anyway all that said, like I said earlier, it's entirely possible I may be overthinking this. I do that often. that said, as a writer I do have one key, very useful ability: the ability to say "fuck canon, I can do better than this". although in this case it's less an act of spite against the writers and more an act of spite against the glorified managers that didn't give them time to do their god damn jobs.

[raeseddon]

I hate to want to put that Arthur meme of Buster saying "you mean people would go on the internet? And tell lies?" here but it's really unfortunately appropriate. I'm also an older Millennial but instead of my dad being the one to fall down the right-wing rabbit hole, it's my mom. She moved to Florida and that just made her absolutely spiral, though I suspect she was always significantly more right wing than she let on, and the reason it seemed like she wasn't growing up was because she was married to someone who spent his entire teenage and adult life going to civil rights marches and getting tossed in jail and pepper-sprayed, but that's neither quite here nor there.

Kids whose parents put a screen/ the internet in front of their faces from a very young age can be some of the most gullible people alive. (I love you Gen Z, but some of you have Some Shit to work on.) They believe every TikTok they see about mental illness, politics, social justice, you name it: even if the next one they scroll to has all of the opposite opinions/conclusions of the last one. And a lot of why they react so wildly to having things like obvious propaganda pointed out to them is that being wrong about something freaks them out.

This applies to the process of radicalization as well because when someone doesn't know how to react appropriately to being wrong about something, another person can step in and say,"That person made you feel that way on purpose, they're The Enemy" and it works a treat. That's the easiest way TERFs spread their rhetoric especially. They trawl through social media, looking for people of a certain age, and look for the maybe one time they had a misconception about queer identity and someone ripped them apart for it, and contact them saying that "actually that person is wrong because they were an asshole to you" and from that moment on that person is on the hook and are now a potential subject for radicalization.

When our generation first had access to the internet it was, first and foremost a tool, and secondly a new form of communication. We were taught the exact same lessons about being careful about what you say to who that our parents were teaching us anyway for real life social situations. And that's something I don't see mentioned a lot when people our age boggle at how the younger generations can just put everything out there about themselves without a single thought to how it can be used against them. In my experience, everyone I grew up with had their parents teaching them basic social interaction red flags/ways of protecting ourselves that we were going to use in our every-day, not-permanently-connected lives. These things weren't just for the internet.

What changed is that parents got insanely protective, and places where teenagers could interact safely in public outside of their parents purview were swept away in the course of a generation. So parents didn't see the need to teach their kids these skills because, well, they can watch everything they do now thanks to The Wonders of the Internet. If mommy and daddy were always going to be there, why were these skills necessary, all while ignoring their own impending mortality.

So, so many of those skills were about detecting deceit/maliciousness, especially when it's wrapped in a polite package: that treating strangers and even family members you were unfamiliar with, with a certain amount of suspicion was a good thing, and the number one lesson: to actively interrogate someone's intentions until they've proven in someway they were trustworthy.

A lot of kids just don't have these skills because their parents assumed that they would be able to surveil every interaction their children had, since their primary way of connecting to others was now the internet. And a lot of those parents don't actually know how to recognize radicalization, especially when their kid seems so content/happy/comfortable with the person on the other side of the screen, because these people know there's a good chance the parents are watching/reading.

This is why I do my best to never be The Asshole to a younger kid because there is always someone there ready to weaponize my words.

Lost followers after reblogging that whole thing about JKR being radicalized over the years, and that disturbs me.

Like if you think saying that people can be radicalized and manipulated into hate is somehow justifying it, yikes. And if you think that people are somehow just good or evil and that you are not at risk of buying into propaganda, have I got some very red flag news about that!

Idk if its because I am an older Millennial maybe (most who unfollowed were younger) but I watched a ton of that generation slide from one of the most progressive to the far right before my every eyes. Hell, my dad fought alongside his black friends in the Detroit race riots and now he watches Fox News 24/7 and talks about the border wall. Yet still claims he could never be racist because of how he used to be. He doesn’t even realize what he has become.

JKR isn’t a deluded old woman or innately evil, but in fact THE prime example of how well-meaning ignorance and privilege can be weaponized and encouraged down a pipeline, until it turns into a force of hate, and should be a cautionary tale about why educating and being open about these issues are necessary. Because there are those out there who will use those divisions and ignorance to their own ends. And just digging in our heels and saying “that could never be me!” is the very thing that puts you more at risk. I’ve lost so many loved ones down that pipeline and it is more slippery than most realize.

Stay alert, stay compassionate, stay humble, and make sure you move through life guided by reason rather than reaction. I love y’all and don’t want to see your passion twisted to get used against the world.

[grandhotelabyss]

Thoughts on the Justin E. H. Smith/Justin Smith-Ruiu Generation X essay in Harper's?

Generations must be real, because, though I'm "old" too, I didn't relate to most of it, except for a few inarguable points (e.g., his denunciation of the tech monopolies for their threat to free speech). I think it's credulous to cite the 1960s as he does:

My own grievance against the boomers is that they betrayed their earliest intuitions, that they went and corporatized rock music, that they stopped believing in the revelatory power of the visions they had while on drugs, that they stopped defending the libido. My grievance against the millennials and younger is that they don’t seem to know, or care, that for a brief moment in the mid-to-late twentieth century these forces seemed to be delivering on the long-held hope—a hope held ever since the Ranters began ranting and the Quakers began quaking and all kinds of utopians went and founded their communes and got naked and dreamt, with Charles Fourier, of someday being able to play the piano with our feet—the long-held hope, I was saying, for human liberation.

This well oversells the drugs and the libido and the music as socially emancipatory forces rather than radically individualizing ones, for worse and for better. It might be an overcorrection to adopt the too-paranoid Weird Scenes Inside the Canyon view—taken to its Pynchonian-Lynchian apogee in that famous scene from the otherwise rather forgettable Under the Silver Lake—but what about Joan Didion?

Such utopianism leads him to a still-Adornian over-pessimism about the present as absolute dystopia, even though he seems to think he's outgrown Adorno. Nobody ever would have heard of lower-middle-classers like either him or me without present communications technology; for this reason alone, I can't endorse nostalgia for the broadcast era in any of its cultural phases. And is there really more philistinism now than there ever was? Or is it just more visible because it's invaded previously commanding institutions like the Ivy League and the New York Times at the very moment when they've lost some of their prestige?

A big shift away from the moralism he cites as destroying art is already underway, as evidenced, among other things, by his essay's being published as the cover story of Harper's. He should talk to some Zoomers. For example, he mentions Crumb. The first time I ever taught Crumb, in 2014, there was almost a riot in the classroom. The last time I taught Crumb, in 2020, the students told me "the previous generation" (they meant my own) thought he was offensive, but they just found him intriguingly odd.

I despise Crumb, by the way. My own petit-bourgeois bêtise manifests itself not as all-encompassing negativity toward the great world but rather as a tacky cubic-zirconia overvaluation of the superficially lovely. In other words, I don't like ugly art, no matter the sophisticated theoretical justification. I never went through any phase when I would have a said a word against Rumours, which I found as a kid in my parents' record collection, just as Smith found it in his. Adolescent Smith deprecated Nirvana as too easy, but they were always a bit rough for me. I couldn't appreciate the generational anthem "Smells Like Teen Spirit" until I heard Tori Amos's cover: there was the structure of it, beautiful as anything, but I needed the blatant ornamentation of the piano before I could see it. ("That song was not written on distorted guitar," according to the aforementioned Under the Silver Lake.) Anyway, here's the crux of the matter dividing us:

We were inspired by Theodor Adorno’s idea that if music is to be considered art, and is to be a veracious witness to its era, it must ipso facto be difficult. We ordered CDs from labels in Maastricht and Berlin that promised us “clicks and cuts,” “sonic rhizomes,” and something they called “glitches,” which were for a while hailed as the equivalent to turntable scratches, but unlike scratching vinyl, which made early hip-hop continuous with the deconstructive aesthetics of the cut-up, the manipulation of a damaged compact disc sounds like nothing but an error, like a new technology that has gotten stuck. It is hard to say when exactly this haughty farce came to an end and my current sensibility set in, a sensibility that declares, quite simply, that all music, insofar as it is music, is good. Nirvana is good, Santana is good, and Kylie Minogue is good when you’re in the back of a taxi at night in Baku (for example). It’s all good, for it all comes down to us from a higher world.

See? Too negative and too positive. Good music is good insofar as it's good, not insofar as it's music, and comes down to us from a higher power—I believe this too—also only insofar as it's good. And if he really means this, then why's he so mad? If all music—all art—is good, then what could "philistinism" even mean? Best to keep a lookout for what's good and try not to be too consumed by what's bad. Even identifying and attacking the bad—a necessary task, like taking out the trash—should be approached as a constructive activity: a way of clearing a space for the good to flourish. But then I would say that, wouldn't I? I am a Millennial. Oh well, whatever, never mind.

[legendary-cookies]

Thank you bobaaddict for the link to the Japanese website!

I wanted to talk about them in my last post too but I didn't have the link or know where to find it

If you want to hear the Japanese voices yourself, here's a link to the website:

Anyway, here are my thoughts on the Legends' Japanese voices

I feel like Moonlight's voice is actually more accurate to what I personally thought it would sound like

Maybe it's just slightly too high, but other than that, it's pretty close

Sea Fairy's voice is also pretty accurate I'd say

The tone doesn't really have that sad or longing sound to it though

Fire Spirit's voice is pretty close too, just maybe a bit too low

But it'll always be better than the English voice

"I aM the fire!"

I keep cackling at his English voice it's so funny I can't tjxgdjxfhxgh

I feel like Wind Archer's voice is actually almost perfect to what I personally imagined

It's not too low but maybe slightly too high

His voice is also soft and kinda quiet which is a big thing I was sort of looking for in his voice lmao

Personally, Millennial Tree and Dark Enchantress's English voice actors are the most accurate to me personally

Millie just sounds tired lmfao

DE sounds similar to the Korean version where she sounds younger than I personally would imagine

»»———— ༻✧༺ ————-««

The Japanese voices kind of surprised me honestly

Most of them were closer to how I personally imagined their voices to sound which I wasn't expecting

I said this in the last post but new Legend when Devs I'm slowly running out of patience /hj

[captainmicaptain]

I really like thinking about the nations of hetalia. The world twinkle was the most boring season of Hetalia but it is the season im most interested in rewatching because we see more of the differences between nations and people (America's episode! episode 11 fucked me up! i felt like a beaten dog after watching that :( ) Now that im almost done with watching Hetalia, i really want to think more about the nations and how they function. i want to talk about what they would look like if they were more historically accurate too.

anyway, i think a theory could be crafted from this cringefest show. i only watched the dub so my thoughts are based on the dub. if the sub provides more evidence, please let me know.

anywho, i think nations struggle to hold on to an identity when they're younger. young nations don't have centuries of history to look back on. for example, America grew at a rapid pace. i would have to go back and check, but i believe out of all the nations, we see America change his language, outfits, and behaviors the most. i can't remember when atm (Hell its 5am over here. im not awake. im going to be late for work. idgf...i need to talk about THE NATIONS) but we see America's slang change with the age of the show. more modern America has used Millennial slang while talking to other nations and he seems unbothered by the change. i don't think he notices the changes because he's young. because his language has been in an extreme constant state of flux since he broke away from England. everything about him has been changing faster than he can keep up. he's barely 200 years old. America is a goddamn fetus.

now let's compare him to France who's ball are so old and saggy he has to drag them along the floor. his balls are covered in old dick cheese and smell like 3,000 old men left out in the sun for too fucking long. anyhow, with France (and many of the older nations) we see more of them hold on to their past. for example, the Joan of Arc episode. France shows regret for what happened to Joan of Arc. he had zero power to stop. he couldn't control anything that was happening. for everyone else it's history, but for him, its still a recent memory. the world changes and forgets faster than the nations and it's because the older nations are more resistant to change. all the older nations have more consistent outfits throughout the airing of the show. Austria is a good example of this. Japan fought his boss for his right to stay in his room and sulk all day, but America forced him out of his room. there are plenty of examples of Nations being slow or even combative to change.

all this to say, i think Nations do forget have forgotten their old languages. some of them would be desperate to remember. the older nations definitely had moments of stumbling over their words, using weird grammar, and being unable to understand their bosses. the changes are violently thrust upon them. they lose pieces of themselves and the older they get the more they notice. i think each Nation has a different response to this. Like England hates France for forcing him to learn so many French words.

would nations forget their own languages as they go extinct? when the language is suppressed, do they stumble over words and mix up grammar and realize it just doesn't come as easy to them as it used to? do their native languages fade away and get replaced by new languages, languages of conquest and oppression and change? i wonder if they think about them sometimes, all those words they forgot, all those pieces of their culture and identity that got lost to time and violence and the all-encompassing oblivion of history.

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

🚨Warnings: Light p in v smut. Some angst. Lots of fluff. My grandfather’s name really is in the Smithsonian.🚨

Plain Gold Ring V:

Exactly Like You

“I know why I waited

Know why I've been blue

I've been waiting each day

For someone exactly like you” - Nina Simone

——————————————————————

Your last day in D.C. felt like the last day of your life. This life. Every article of clothing was packed. Every knickknack and tchotchke sent with the movers. You were ready for your next life. Did your next life include Andy?

The weather was beautiful. Sunny. Not too hot. You and Andy had planned on spending it outside seeing the sites. He had never toured any of the museums. You invited Jacob along. The second you said it you wished you hadn’t. You felt like a home wrecker even though Andy promised Jacob wouldn’t see you that way.

Andy was bristling with excitement. “He’s going to love you, baby.” You were not great with kids. You actively chose not to have them. You loved your nieces from a distance when they were little. Now that they are teenagers you feel a little more at ease with them. You are their cool rich aunt who spends an absolutely outrageous amount of money on them when you visit. You nearly fainted when Andy asked if you’d like to have children.

“Aren’t I too old for that?”

“You’re only three years younger than me. I know a lot of women who had their career before they had a family.” Your face snapped from terrified to anger real quick, “Not that you can’t have a career and be a mother. People do it everyday. Shut up, Andy.”

“You’re cute when you’re nervous. Have you thought of having children with me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, yeah. I’d like to have a couple more.”

“Oh. A couple he says.” You could feel the hives forming. “This seems like a good conversation to have right before I leave.”

He ran his hands up and down your arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you. You haven’t thought about it? Not even a little?” The door buzzed in the nick of time.

“Jacob’s here! Hallelujah!” You wiggled out of his arms to grab your shoes.

He laughed shaking his head. “We’ll finish this conversation later, young lady.” he pressed the intercom button, “Hey come on up, buddy. This is going to be great, honey.” He loved your nervous laugh and the way you fidgeted with your fingers. Just the fact that you were nervous told him you would love his son.

You heard voices coming from the living area. Fucking hell. Was that Lori? You contemplated going out of the window. You went into the bathroom to grab some lip balm. You knew full well that it was in your bag on the kitchen island. You were just staying out of their way. When you heard the front door close you reemerged.

“Ready to go?” Your eyes were wide and you were way too smiley. If Andy didn’t know better he would think you were on drugs.

“Yeah. I think no more coffee for you ok?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Y/N.” Jacob extended his hand.

“Nice to see you too. So! The Smithsonian. What part are you most interested in seeing?”

“Air and space I think.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start. My grandfather’s name is actually on a plaque. I’ll show you. He was in the navy and built planes that were used in Korea I think. And my dad’s picture is there. He works for a division of NASA back in Louisiana where I’m from. He developed this little part of the rocket booster. He’s literally a rocket scientist.”

“That’s really cool. I’d love to meet him sometime…..”

Andy was loving every second of this. You and Jacob really got along. You were making plans to visit your father and stepmother over the summer and maybe hit the beach in Florida. Jacob’s face lit up at the prospect of meeting your family. Both Andy and Lori were only children. Jacob didn’t grow up with cousins or really any kids his own age outside of school. He seemed pretty comfortable with the idea of you and Andy together.

Andy tested the waters a little by holding your hand. Jacob didn’t seem to notice. By the time you got to the next part of the museum he had his arms around your waist. He even kissed you a couple of times. Nothing but a tender peck here and there. Jacob didn’t seem to mind when he showed you affection.

After lunch Andy dropped you off and then ran Jacob back home.

“So, what are you thinking?” Andy asked with nervous trepidation.

“The museum was cool. I really liked the rockets. It’s cool that Y/N’s dad made those.”

“Did you like Y/N?”

“Yeah. Sucks she’s moving. Do you think you’ll move to Chicago too?”

“Kind of depends on you, bud. I know you’re getting older and you don’t need Dad around very much anymore. I don’t want to miss anything. You’re my only baby.”

“I could spend summers with you. You look really happy. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Even before the trial. I’d miss you but you should be happy.”

The whole way inside Jacob talked about you. He clammed up when Lori walked in.

“Hey, guys. Did you have a good time?” She kissed Jacob on the forehead.

“We had a great time. Ok, Jake. You have the number where I’ll be. I’ll be back on Wednesday. If you’re not busy next weekend you can spend the night. I have your room all set up. Love you.”

“Ok. Love you. Have a safe flight. Tell Y/N I said bye.” He escaped to his room before the arguing started.

“If it’s ok I’ll pick him up from school Thursday. Did you sign the papers?”

“She went with you?” Her voice was deadly quiet.

“She did.”

“Didn’t want to tell me that before hand I guess.”

He sighed and wiped his face with his hands, “I’ll have him back Sunday night. See you later.”

“Fuck you, Andy. You can’t even give me the courtesy of telling me my son would be meeting his father’s whore!”

He slammed his fist on the counter, “Did you sign the papers or not?” She threw the manilla envelope at him.

“They’re signed.” He took the papers and walked out slamming the door. He contemplated moving again. He has a month to month lease on his place. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find a job. He knew Jacob would be fine. Chicago was looking better and better. After all the baby talk this morning he wouldn’t burden you with anything else domestic for today.

——————————————————————

You were zipping your last suitcase when you heard Andy come in. You packed all of your sleep clothes so you were wearing Andy’s t-shirt and panties. Dinner was ordered and he had a drink waiting on the counter. He called out for you. When you rounded the corner into the living room he caught you in his arms.

“Hey, handsome.” you cooed in his ear. He nuzzled your neck and stroked your back. “You ok? Was Jacob….he hates me. I knew it.”

He tightened his hold on you, “Honey, he loved you. He talked about you the whole way back.”

“Then why is your face all worried?”

“Because I’m keenly aware that this is our last night together in my place. That when I come home Wednesday you won’t be here. I’ll go to work on Thursday and Jeremy will be in your office. I have really good memories in that office and now they’re ruined. I don’t want to wake up without you.”

His hands traveled up your bare back then back down to cup your ass. “The delivery app says they’re going to be here in twenty minutes. Think you can finish in time?”

He lowered his head between your breasts and nodded yes. Before you knew it your panties were off, his pants were down and he was fucking you against the wall. His pace was relentless. You hooked your ankles at the small of his back and leaned back so you could rub your clit. Your fingertips brushed against his dick every time he pumped in and out of your cunt. You both came in fifteen minutes.

You ate dinner on the veranda loving the cool breeze on your bare skin. As much as he wanted his t-shirt to smell like you, he like naked picnics way more. Admittedly, a big chicken Caesar salad wasn’t the sexiest food in the world. Still didn’t stop him from licking dressing off of your chest when it dropped off your fork. He was determined to fuck you in almost every room in this place.

You slept tangled and sticking together all night. You had finally gotten over your need for bed space. You’d miss it when he wasn’t there. All night the two of you wanted to bring up moving in together. Neither of you had the guts to say it. You didn’t want to beat a dead horse. He didn’t want to freak you out. Good thing you’d be long distance for a while to work on your communication skills.

——————————————————————

Your new place was beautiful. You rented a big new condo close to Millennial Park. Your office was on Michigan Ave so you weren’t far from there thought walking was highly discouraged. It wouldn’t be possible in heels anyway.

You and Andy worked diligently unpacking and cleaning. When the last box was unpacked and broken down you both collapsed on the couch. “I feel disgusting.”

“You have that nice big bathtub. Bet we can both fit.” He raised an eyebrow at you and nudged your side.

“You are insatiable, Mr. Barber. Whatever will I do without you?”

“You’ll bust from horniness. Come on.” He hoisted you up from your comfy spot and pulled you into the bathroom. While he undressed you filled the water with soft musky oils and some bubble bath. You lit candles and eased in to relax. He washed your hair massaging your scalp with his fingertips. He held you in the warmth until your fingers and toes were pruned.

For the rest of the week, if you were sitting it was on Andy’s lap. If you were sleeping it was in his arms. By Tuesday morning, you had both finished up conference calls and responding to emails. You had cleared the rest of your day to spend together.

As the sunlight dwindled it had become harder and harder to part. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to have the conversation you had been dreading since you stepped off the plane.

“Andy, I don’t want to sound like a nagging girlfriend but, I really want you to move in with me. I know it would be so hard leaving Jacob but I have plenty of room. He can spend every summer here if he wants. I’d love to have him. I feel really strongly that this is leading somewhere. I’ll even talk about babies if you want.”

His heart was bursting. You kept rambling on trying to convince him. Little did you know he was already convinced. “Stan is going to kill you.” He laughed and pulled you onto his lap. “Give me a few weeks to wrap up everything.”

When you dropped him at the airport there were tears but you knew you’d see him soon. “I love you, baby. I’ll call you as soon as I land.” He kissed you like he would never get to do it again.

“I love you too. See you soon.” He smiled through his tears.

“See you soon.”

——————————————————————

That weekend he spent all of his time with Jacob. He planned on spending every moment he could with his son. Jacob even had his first few weeks planned starting with meeting your family in Louisiana.

When he brought Jacob home on Sunday he worked up the courage to tell Lori the news. “Do you have all of your stuff for your English assignment? If not I can bring it by before school tomorrow.”

“I got it, dad. I had fun this weekend.” They hugged. He smelled Jacob’s hair and kissed him.

“Love you. Be good for mom.”

“Love you too!”

Lori stood in the doorway with her arms folded protectively over her chest. “So she’s gone?”

“Yep.”

“So what now? What does this mean for you?”

He pulled out the kitchen chair and rested his head in this hands. “This wasn’t a fling, Lori. I’m moving to Chicago. Jacob is real excited about spending summers with us.”

“Do you love her?” Tears shimmered in her eyes and her voice wavered. It would be cruel to lie to her.

“Very much.” It stung to hear. With nothing left to say Andy stood to leave.

“Andy!” she called after him. When he turned she wrapped him in a hug. The two of them embraced for several minutes.

When he stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the building his phone buzzed in his pocket. He saw your face smiling back at him.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” He looked up at your old window and thought of how the two of you started, the past he left behind and smiled at the sound of his future on the other end of the line.

[billiejs]

Three times the boys are blown away by pop culture and new technologies (and one time when Julie can’t resist the 90s)

Julie and the Phantoms, Julie/Luke, the timelines are not super accurate but bear with me, 1.9k 

ALEX is obsessed with the Harry Potter books 

Luke checks his phone again for the seventh time in the past ten minutes, his guitar hanging from his shoulders. 

“DUDE!” He shouts out, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you gonna join us or what? We were supposed to start rehearsing half an hour ago!” 

Alex’s head peeks from the loft: he’s laying on the pavement beside the sofa, and his eyes are barely visible from behind a battered copy of a book. 

Julie sighs. Luke looks ready to blow Alex off, but she’s pretty sure it’ll make no difference. 

“I’m sorry! I’m nearly finished with this chapter, I swear!” Alex turns a page, eyes glued to the book. 

“You said that three chapters ago!” Luke’s eyes bulge out and he turns to Julie, pointing frantically upwards. “Is he serious? Are you serious?” 

Julie opens her mouth, but she’s not sure of what to say. Alex has been like that for the past three days. 

“Hey guys,” Reggie strides in, an open bag of Doritos in one hand and an aura of complete calm around him. Julie hadn’t even noticed he’d left. “Here Luke, you look nervous. Have some of these.” 

Luke looks at Julie, then at Reggie, then he shoves his hand in the bag of chips and starts munching angrily on a handful of Doritos. 

“Hey, ‘lex!” Reggie happily calls out. “Want some Doritos?” 

“Not now, I’m reading!” 

“IT SHOULD BE, NOT NOW I’M PLAYING!” 

“Luke, calm down.” Julie pleads, “He’s about to finish the book anyway.”

“Whatcha reading, Alex?” Reggie calls out to the loft. 

“It’s those damn Harry Potter things.” Luke seethes. “It’s like he can’t stop reading, he’s obsessed! Am I the only one who remembers we have a gig in four days?”

Reggie nods sympathetically at Luke. 

“Yeah man. But that’s a really cool story, I watched the films with Carlos last week,” Reggie mimics a brain explosion. “I was mind blown. Hey Alex, which one are you reading?” 

“Half-Blood Prince.” Alex replies, “And I’m almost done so…” 

“Ohhh that’s a good one. Did you already get to the part where Dumbledore dies?” 

A stunned silence falls over the studio. 

“Oh, boy.” Julie covers her face with her hands. A heavy rumble of footsteps announces Alex’s descent from the loft: his hair is sticking in weird directions and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks at Reggie like he’s ready to murder him. 

“Dumbledore what now?” Alex hisses, stepping forward.

“Dies. Snape kills him. Were you there yet?” 

Alex points his drumstick at Reggie’s face like it’s a magic wand. 

“NO, I WAS NOT!” Alex shouts. “HOW COULD YOU, REGGIE?” 

Before either Julie or Luke can do anything to stop him, Alex throws himself at Reggie and they both roll around the floor, trying to get on top of each other. Julie slips an arm around Luke’s waist to give him a comforting squeeze.

“We’re not going to get anything done today if we let them do this.” She reminds him. Reggie is currently smacking Alex with a throw pillow and Luke observes attentively. 

“Just a little more. Alex deserved it.” 

LUKE adores School of Rock

“Your boyfriend,” Alex comes into the kitchen with his hands on his hips and glares at Julie, “Is a hypocrite.” 

Julie, on her tiptoes to reach a jar of strawberry jam on the top shelf, just stares back.

“Be a little less specific, will you?” 

“Come see for yourself.” Alex grabs her by the hand and pulls her all the way to the studio, where Luke is currently busy playing a guitar solo kneeling on the floor, hair drenched in sweat.

“NO YOU’RE NOT HARDCORE,” he shouts, “UNLESS YOU LIVE HARDCORE!” 

“Ah,” Julie stands back and enjoys the show. “Luke, have you been watching School of Rock again?” 

“No,” Luke lies, smiling like Julie’s just brought the sun back after a dark winter. “Maybe?”

Julie purses her lips, smiling. She gets why Luke identifies so much with that movie. Jack Black’s love for rock music and the whole ‘stick it to the Man’ talk are all Luke is about. 

“You got mad at me for wanting to read Harry Potter instead of playing…” Alex accuses. 

“But I am playing.” Luke protests, his fingers sliding on his guitar to play a riff that Julie’s pretty sure he’s stealing from Hendrix. 

“Not our music!” Alex protests. “And before you even think about suggesting it, no, we’re not going to dress up in school uniforms for our next gig.” 

“You would rock a skirt, though.” Reggie points out.

“I would,” Alex flips his hair out, “And knee socks too. But can we please get to practicing now?” 

“It’s just, such a good story,” Luke tells Julie in a dreamy tone later that evening, while he’s splayed out in the garden squinting at the sky. There’s way too much light pollution to see any stars though. “I mean, the guy has a dream, and not only he manages to stay true to himself despite everyone going against him, he also inspires younger kids to do the same!” 

“Yeah, I know,” Julie laughs, petting Luke’s head in her lap. “You see yourself in him.” 

“I do,” Luke grins. “But I’m much better looking.” 

Julie lightly pulls at the hair on the back of his neck. 

“And people think Reggie is the vain one…”

Luke laughs, nestling more comfortably against her touch. Ever since they’ve become human again, he can’t seem to get enough. 

“You know what I was thinking…” he begins, tentatively. 

“No.” 

“You didn’t even let me speak.” 

“I already know what you’re going to say.” 

Luke sits up, making puppy eyes at her. 

“Come on, Jules! It would be epic!” 

Julie sighs, taking Luke’s hands in hers and looking him straight into his eyes. 

“No, Luke. You’re not stage diving at our next gig.” 

REGGIE can’t get enough of Siri

“Guys, I think something is wrong with Reggie.” Julie announces nervously, twisting her hands as she walks into the living room. Alex and Luke are sprawled in front of the Tv and don’t look half as worried as she thinks they should. 

“And you’re only noticing this now?” Alex arches his eyebrows, unbothered. 

“I’m serious, guys! Come see!” 

Julie guides them upstairs to the room that’s become Reggie’s, and they all peek from the semi-closed door.

“Hey, Siri,” they hear Reggie say, “Does anyone ever ask you, like, how are you?” 

“I’m fine, thank you. Helping you makes me happy.” 

“That’s very nice, thanks Siri.” Reggie sighs happily, kicking his feet up on his bed. “You never judge me, even when I asked you what a wi-fey was.”

“I don’t know what a wi-fey is. Were you looking for Wi-Fi?”

“I was!” Reggie slaps himself in the forehead. “You get me so well. Here, play our song Stand Tall, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Now playing: Stand Tall, by Julie and the Phantoms on Spotify.”

Outside in the corridor, Julie gestures frantically towards the room. 

“See what I mean?” She whispers, “That can’t possibly be okay.” 

“Think he feels a little lonely?” Alex scratches the back of his head. 

“I mean, he’s basically using Siri as a therapist so…” 

“I think you’re overreacting,” Luke shrugs. “He’s always liked robots. Siri is basically a talking computer, Reggie digs that stuff. 

Another happy sigh from Reggie as the song ends has them all listening intently. 

“So, this is one of the new songs. Sometimes I think to the fact that I actually died and lost my whole family and it’s a bit much, you know what I mean? I would like to find my parents, I think.” 

“Here are all the results I found for ‘parents’”

“Wait, you can do that?” Reggie sits up on his bed, his mouth hanging open. “I thought you could only call the pizza guys!” 

“Calling: pizza guy.” 

“Siri, you’re a blessing!” Reggie is enraptured. “I was feeling sad and you call pizza! It’s like you can read my mind!” 

“He shouldn’t be talking to Siri when he feels sad,” Julie hisses. Alex has sort of caught onto her concerns, but Luke merely giggles.

“I bet he’s going to call the milkshake place next.” 

“Siri,” Reggie says as soon as he’s placed his pizza order, “Can we call Gordon’s Milkshack next? I have a craving for a chocolate banana shake.” 

“Called it!”

(Bonus: JULIE discovers the Spice Girls)

Luke knows that one of Julie’s favorite parts of hanging out with them is introducing new technologies and pop culture wonders for the Millennials and Gen Z experience; she does this thing where she tilts her head to the right while she watches them discover something new and has a cute little smile Luke can’t get tired of seeing. 

He’s tried to do the same for her, but it seems that she already knows everything about the early 90’s. 

Except one day, he’s walking into the studio a little earlier than usual and finds it occupied by a Julie like he’s never seen her before, flailing her arms around and shaking her hips to the beat of a sugary pop song he knows all too well. 

“If you wanna be my lover…” 

Luke slaps a hand on his mouth and hides behind the door, watching Julie belt out Scary’s rap verse in perfect time. When the song ends, he comes out of his hiding spot with a cheek-splitting grin. 

“That was amazing!” 

“Luke!” Julie’s cheeks are blazing, but Luke can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or rage. Probably both. 

“Before you say anything,” Luke holds up his hands, “I was here for only a minute, but you rocked every single second of it.”

“Yeah, I like the Spice Girls, okay?” Julie nervously twists her hair into a ponytail and refuses to look him in the eyes. “I was going through a playlist and it came up, it’s good fun!” 

“Hey, no judgment!” Luke laughs, cupping her heated cheek in his hand and pulling her forward or a quick kiss. “You’re almost seventeen now, basically an adult. You can listen to whatever you want.” 

Julie smiles against his lips and kisses him again, humming the melody of Wannabe as he does. 

“Good thing your friends love me,” Luke laughs. 

“We have the same friends, I’m not sure it counts.”

Reggie and Alex choose that very moment to barge in, as if they’d been summoned. 

“Practice time!” Reggie announces, pinching Luke’s waist and sneaking out of reach immediately. “No more love-birding here.” 

Alex reaches Julie’s laptop that’s still plugged into the sound system.

“Oh, let’s see what your love tunes are…”

“NO!” Julie’s horrified shout comes too late, because Alex is already doubled over laughing. 

Luke leaves her to shout about privacy while Say you’ll be there blasts over the speakers.

“I’ll be right back guys.” He says, stepping out of the studio. He’s got an idea and there’s no time to waste. 

Luke fishes his phone from his pocket and scans through his contact list. Reggie’s right: these touch screen thingies are pretty cool after all. 

“What do you want?” A shrill, annoyed voice comes up from the other end of the line. 

“Hello to you too, Carrie,”  Luke smiles through the phone.

“Is Julie sick? Did she find out about the surprise party? Is this why you’re calling?” Carrie’s tone sounds accusatory, and Luke just knows that there is no way he’ll ever be able to get along with her. She is the spawn of his traitor ex bandmate after all. 

“No, but that’s why I’m calling you.” He explains, “How would Dirty Candy like to become Julie’s favorite performance of the party?” 

There’s a pause. 

“I’m listening.” 

Luke grins. He’s about to win the best-boyfriend-in-the-universe award. 

“I hope you’re ready to Spice it up, Carrie.” 

_______________________________________________ Thank you for reading! I know the Spice Girls are late 90s so the boys wouldn’t really know them, but bear with me.  Feel free to drop a prompt in my askbox if you’d like! More minifics (x)

[im-the-punk-who]

Hey, I was wondering if you have a book rec

!!

Okay so in full disclosure, I have a really hard time reading books. My brain sometime around six years ago just decided that wasn't its style anymore, so I don't read a TON. A lot of these aren’t going to be recent releases. However, here are a bunch of books I would absolutely recommend checking out! I tried to include a variety of genres but I have uh.....five bookshelves in my apartment so if you're looking for more of a certain genre let me know!

Theatre:

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

Waiting for Godot - Samuel Beckett

These are my two favorite plays - they're both absurdist, humorous, and have some fun things to say. They’re both by old white guys but like....I love both Tom Stoppard and Samuel Beckett DEEPLY and they have all of my love and respect.

Non-Fiction/Educational:

Why are all the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria by Beverly Daniel Tatum - this is considered a 'classic' on the psychology of racism, and was particularly helpful for me as a white person in arming myself against 'reverse racism' thoughts and in dissembling my own prejudices. This is mostly a rec for other white folks, but Tatum also addresses 'having the courage to sit at the black table' as a way of claiming your own identity outside of the stereotypes the dominant society expects of you.

Daring Greatly by Brene Brown - Okay listen I just really REALLY love Brene Brown, she is a therapist most famous for her TED talk about Vulnerability and this is just...listen I really like to read this book when I am sad and feel like shit because it makes me feel strong. I reread this book at least once a year.

Imagined Communities by Benendict Anderson - This is an absolutely fascinating read on the rise of nationalism. It’s a bit dry and wordy, but the ideas and use of history as propaganda, spinning the story of a nation to pit it against or on the same side as other nations, and the ways in which these tactics shaped cultural history is just!!!! Amazing.

Gay New York by George Chauncey - This is just one of the most informative and interesting reads of queer history in New York that I’ve ever come across. It’s one of the ‘must reads’ of queer history and has so many interesting tidbits that I have to recommend it. It’s a bit old(published in 1994) but I still find it relevant and interesting to read.

Personal Fiction/Autobiographical Fiction

White Girls by Hilton Als - I went to a reading of this book when it first came out. It was so much fun and so eye-opening for me as a baby queer in NYC that I bought the book there. I wanna be really clear that Als does not pull punches and a lot of people don’t quite like it, but I love Als’ style of writing. The stories and essays in this book are amazing and funny and heartbreaking and informative of queer experience - particularly black queer experience - that I always feel like...honored? to experience through writing? This is one of those ‘you’re gonna suffer but you’re gonna be happy about it’ reads - it can be hard to face because of how very hard the pills are to swallow but like....gosh I just love this book and it’s interesting and hilarious and great.

Confessions of an Economic Hitman by John Perkins  - this is my tin hat favorite. It hits....ugh. This is one of those books that came out and like every government agency freaked the fuck out over it. It’s an interesting look into the quote-unquote dark underbelly of capitalism; how and why countries manipulate each other through economic policies. Super interesting read with a nice style of prose.

The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to become the Smartest Person in the World by A.J. Jacobs Okay so full disclosure I have not finished reading this, but I’m far enough through to rec it. This book chronicles the author’s attempt to read the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica from front to back, and it is just as kooky and hilarious as it sounds. I am very incredibly and deeply offended this author stole both my schtick and my initials, thereby preventing me from doing this exact thing. I read through the phone book in its entirety when I was three. I had it in me. Anyway, this is basically the author just listing weird interesting facts he’s read about and connecting them to his daily life, but it’s a fun read, and you learn a lot of totally useless facts, which is absolutely my jam.

When Skatboards Will Be Free by Saïd Sayrafiezadeh - HI I LOVE THIS BOOK. I’ve read it maybe three times over. It’s so fun and interesting. You may notice that a lot of the books I rec are very absurdist in their humor, and this is no exception. This book is full of the dry wit and just weird goddamn shit you could only expect from the child of a revolution that never came. You want to read a book about someone who Went Through Shit? Read this book. It’s funny and heartbreaking and just. AHHHH. Seriously I cannot recommend this enough.

Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosch - FIGHT ME ON THIS. I love this book.....so much. Yes it’s technically a comic book but the stories are so INTERESTING and hilarious and full of exactly the dry absurdist humor I eat the fuck up. Also! Allie Brosch recently released a sequel of sorts called Solutions and Other Problems that I recommend without even reading it.

Poetry

Pansy by Andrea Gibson - IF YOU ARE NOT READING THE POETRY OF ANDREA GIBSON WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING WITH YOUR LIFE. I cried seven times reading this book. There are only like 14 poems. Please please read this to break your own queer heart :)

Bloodsport by Yves Olade - This is a tiny book full of absolutely devastating poetry. Most of it has to do with the grief of relationships, but like....gosh I love all of Olade’s stuff. (Also!! This is available as a pay-what-you-wish pdf!!)

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón - This book focuses a lot on the author’s experiences of loss, and knowing that loss is going to happen. I’m completely devastated every time I read this.

Science Fiction/Fantasy

The Bartimeaus Sequence by Jonathan Stroud - So what if I am a dumb millennial I love this series. It’s another dry and deadpan humor, with weird additions and Stroud’s use of footnotes to absolutely crack me the fuck up means I gotta rec this. I just gotta. Four(I think?) books following the deeply unlikeable Nathaniel and his Djinn Bartimaeus, who just wants to eat humans and have a deeply enjoyable enemies to lovers plotline with his arch rival.

The Magic's Price Trilogy by Mercedes Lackey - Okay I know I’ve recced this before. I will rec it again. This was the very first series I ever read that featured a gay protagonist and I was. Devastated? Reformed? I latched onto Vanyel Ashkevron and I am never letting this depressed emo boy go. Try me, I bite. Seriously, this book was released in the 80s and yet it is still relevant, I still cry - god i LOVE this series SO MUCH. And, MERCEDES LACKEY actually invented unbury your gays, sorry I make the rule on that one. :) Also there are magic talking horses??????? Seriously please read this series I love it so much.

Fire Bringer & The Sight by David Clement-Davies - This is another series that was absolutely formative in my baby lexicon. These are books about magical animals and their inner societal workings and both books address the ideas of good, evil, darkness, compassion and good will, and destiny. I am obsessed with these books, they are some of the most interesting of the genre I’ve read, and so incredibly intricately written. LOVE these books.

Vampire Earth Series by E. E. Knight - The Witcher before it was cool. Sort of but like...there are schools of Cat, Bear, etc and it has COOL VAMPIRES I LOVE THSI SERIES. Basically, earth has been taken over by a race of alien ‘Vampires’ and follows a human involved in the resistance. The writing in this series is...wow. It’s so intricate and interesting and involved. I own the whole series because I love it so much, including the after-series hardback novels. I’m so messy and I love it.

Kindred by Octavia Butler - You know how people are like ‘YOU SHOULD READ OCTAVIA BUTLER!!’ ? You should absolutely do that. This novel is mindblowing and interesting and the pace and narrative are so so so interesting. Heartbreaking, god, horrific. Butler is an amazing writer and this novel, while my personal favorite, is not by any means the only of her books I would recommend. STORIES. STORIES!!!!!!!

Fiction

The Ballad of Barnabas Pierkiel: A Novel by Magdalena Zyzak - This book is so fucking good. It’s imaginative, funny, intelligent....it’s honestly one of the best fiction novels I’ve ever read. Again, dry, absurdist humor, this book sort of reminds me of Terry Pratchett’s style of writing.

The Call of the Wild by Jack London - This is a classic, a true classic. The social commentary of this book is so so good, London’s style flows and, personally, as a dog and animal expert, the anthropomorphisation of Buck and his fellow animals is just so well done. I love this book, it’s quite an easy read, and I reread it at least once a year.

Rolling the R's by R. Zamora Linmark - Okay. Okay okay!!!!!! I gotta take a deep breath about this one. This book is. Yuh. This is a bit younger leaning than the other fictions, focusing almost entirely on high school level characters, however the experiences and commentary is just so so good. Focusing on a diverse group of characters growing up in Hawaii in the 1970′s, this book addresses the intersectionalities of gender, sexuality, race, immigration, education, and how we define who we are. I’m obsessed.

A Separate Peace by John Knowles - A heartbreaking novel about war, innocence, adolescence, and how we hide from our truths. It’s...so good, this book hurts me a LOT okay. The prose is phenomenal, the story is poignant, and it feels like I’m ripping my own heart out with a fishhook every time I finish it.

The Toss of a Lemon by Padma Viswanathan - This is one of those books I half recommend because it’s so good, and half because of the deep wealth of knowledge it presents the reader. The author’s use of her own culture is just....goddddddddd. Intricate and interesting and so delicately included in the narrative that you can feel the love the author has for it. It’s a long read and it took me almost a month to get through reading every day, but god. It’s so soft and amazingly written I both wanted to read it all at once and take my time with it. This is another one that deals with the duality of humanity and how we connect with one another. Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!

P.S. Your Cat Is Dead by James Kirkwood Jr. - I love this book I love this book I LOVE THIS BOOK. It’s fucking hilarious, entertaining, I literally laughed out loud at every single chapter. Hilarious and poignant and surprisingly deep, this book literally follows the journey of a man in which literally everything that could go wrong does. It’s fucking hilarious.

I hope that helped and gave you some new books!!! <3

[everydayanth]

Academic Elitism: an institutional issue

Sorry for being so rant-y lately, but the elitism of university has been a problem for me from the exact moment I accepted my scholarship with a signature and a handshake in high school. (The scholarship was later revoked due to state up-fuckery, but that’s another story, and I was already in too deep by the time they told me).

My parent’s house was only an hour north, my younger sister had already claimed my room, but I was excited. I was in the furthest dorm building, because that’s where the scholarship kids went, it was like a poor kid diversity hall, every few doors was someone from a completely different background, but we were all poor except our Swedish RA, and there was an odd pride in that. We all had various scholarships: robotics, dance team, nerds like me, etc. (not the football or hockey athletes though, they had their own dorm next to the library for... reasons, lol).

But being the last hall, it wasn’t actually full, most of us had entire rooms to ourselves, often whole suites; our hall was co-ed, but rooms were only occupied at every-other, staggered down the corridor. Only the front two halls were used, the back two closed off for construction or codes or something. We had to hike up the hill for dining halls, which was fine until snowdays that shut the whole campus down (and I mean west Michigan ones, with 4+ feet of powder and ice underneath). I had an old computer my dad got me for graduation and I didn’t know it was old until my peers started calling it a dinosaur. I had to use the library computers to write and print papers, and most places I went, I ran into the other scholarship kids. We didn’t talk much, just a head bob here and there, awareness at our similarities and an annoyed spite at being thrown together this way. It was lonely for everyone.

I had a purple flip phone I’d gotten only that calendar year (2009) and was still learning to text with (abbreviations? instant messaging? what?). My roommate had come down from Alaska to live near her dad, we’d talked in the summer, but I never saw her. I moved my things in and her stuff was on her side, I texted her about going to turn in paperwork and when I came back, there was a note on my bed and all her things were gone, she couldn’t do it, had never been away from home for even a night. She left a few mismatched socks and a bag of junk pens that I resented for years. 

Social media was mostly a way to talk to people across campus and exchange homework and party times/locations. We posted over-edited photos of our food and still jogged with our mp3 players and ipods. But within two years, I had to trade in my computer three times and upgrade to a smartphone to keep up with the expectations of communication. Professors would cancel classes by emails an hour out, and if I was on campus, I simply didn’t get the message, running between classes with 19 credit hours and three jobs. Work would call in or cancel my appointments (tutoring) and I needed to be able to communicate at the rate of my peers, so though it wasn’t something we could easily afford, my parents let me get the smartphone and my dad helped me find computers that could keep up with writing papers and researching without having to go to the lab, which saved so much time. 

There was little understanding for my suffering. I didn’t have a car, I had to call my parents and organize a time to get home or take the train which was more expensive than waiting around on an empty campus. They were often things that even the wealthiest students had to deal with, but there were so much more of them for us, more stress, more problems, more solutions, more consequences, and in some ways, more determination.

I spent plenty of breaks holed up in my room, but when the swine flu/H1N1 outbreak happened, guess where they quarantined students?

In our hall. 

Not the back one that was closed. In the room attached to my suite. 

After half a semester alone, suddenly strangers shared my bathroom. I never saw them, I would just hear the formidable click of the bathroom lock followed by the shower. A week later I got a blue half-sheet note in my mailbox about quarantines. The other kids were as pissed off, as we watched kids escorted in with blue masks and were told to just get cleaning wipes from the front desk –they ran out in a week. 

We were the recyclable students, brought in to trade scholarships for university grade averages. Many of my friends were struggling with scholarship qualifications and gpas (which only encouraged my continual obsessive perfectionism and involvement). 

We were expendable. 

I didn’t understand the elitism then, or I did, but I’d twisted it in my head from years tossed between private and public schools. I was an invader, I wasn’t supposed to be there, but I wanted to be. I understood that I didn’t deserve it, that I had to work harder to stay. I completed Master’s coursework for my Bachelor’s degree, finishing two BA programs (anthropology and English: creative writing) and 2 minor programs in philosophy and world lit, lead several campus groups and volunteered with honor’s societies. I spent hours on campus every day, running home just to go to one job or the other. I slept about four hours a night and I still romanticize it because I loved it. And I was good at it. It was a closed system, easy to infiltrate, easy to watch and observe and follow, to feel protected from the world, but there were always ways that I came up short. 

I didn’t have leggings or Northface fleeces or Ugg boots or name brand anything (except a pair of converse I got in 8th grade from my Babcia). I had old high school sweats and soccer shirts, hand-me-down clothes from sisters and cousins that mix-matched a style I thought was unique but I now understand screamed I don’t really belong here. Example: I went to propose an independent study to a professor I really admired and I panicked about what to wear. I still cringe at the memory, gahhhhhh, but I pulled on what I thought was a decent dress because it had no rips or stains or tears and though I’d picked it up from a clearance rack, it was the newest thing and therefore the best. But in retrospect, it was definitely a “party” dress, I grabbed a sweater, hoop earrings that had always been beautiful in my neighborhood, and heels I never wore otherwise, and presented my idea. This old professor was just like “um...did you dress up for me?” Clearly spooked by red flags and I realized my mistake. Saved by quick thinking I clarified “no, I have a presentation later,” and being a familiar face in the social sciences department, I let him assume I was dressed up as something. I just went in my sweats and t-shirts after that, got a haircut that tamed the wavy frizz and learned the importance of muted tones, cardigans, and flats.

I made a lot of interesting friends in the process, people who also stuck out from the American Academic culture: exchange students, older (non-traditional) students, rebels, and other poor kids. But that also meant that we all evolved during our time there, so friendship was quick and fleeting as we adapted or dropped out or remained oblivious, lost in our studies and dreams of changing the world or our lives. 

I had no idea how to approach the dining halls because I could only afford the bronze plan that was included with my room+board scholarship. I could enter the hall ten times per week, with four included passes to the after-hours carry-out (this was an upgrade from the free high school lunch I was coming from). I met other kids on this plan and their dorm rooms had fridges and microwaves and shelves of ramen and mac’n’cheese. Mine was sparse, my fridge had jugs of water from the filtered tap in the common room, and though it had a shared kitchenette, it always smelled bad or was being used and the nearest grocery store was Meijers which was a 15-20 minute drive from campus. I used so much energy dividing up my meals and figuring out how to sneak food from the hall for later or just learn to not eat, which is another story involving malnutrition, broken bones, and the American Healthcare System.

We like to summarize the college experience with fond struggles. I went back to my old high school to watch my younger sisters’ marching band competition that first year (it’s MI, and they were good). My old art teacher (not much older than we were but she felt so much older at the time, also her maiden name was Erickson and so was her fiance’s so she didn’t “change” her name and that blows my mind to this day), anyway, she stopped me to ask how school was going, and I was not prepared to be recognized in anyway and stammered out something like “oh, yeah, stressful. Fun, cool, yeah,” like the eloquent well-educated student I was. And she said, “oh, I loved it, don’t you love it? Everything’s so charming, and being poor? Oh man, it’s hard for a while, but it’s so good to go through.” 

I was dumbfounded at her reference to poverty as a thing to go through when you’re a student. I again had to remember that I was infiltrating places where people weren’t just marginally more well-off than I was, but far beyond, in a place where they couldn’t comprehend an alternative, couldn’t conceive of surviving poverty, of not having a reliable place to fall if you mess up, parents who couldn’t support you if things went wrong, who couldn’t save you from having to drop out if scholarships were canceled because the money just wasn’t there.

Talking with my parents never worked, and I recently found this video by The Financial Diet about Boomer shame in being poor, where many Millennials were united by it and it was #relatable. But all this is to say that there are so many layers and ways we develop in higher education that are often overlooked by the romantic nostalgia of the elite expectation. What we demand from education vs. what it offers us in return is rarely equal for students coming from poverty, and it starts with that first sacrifice of looking at money and deciding it has to be worth it to do something bigger, and that education is a necessary piece of that goal.

Now I live near Brown University, I’ve been to Harvard when we lived in Boston and recently took a trip to Yale with bold expectations. I am friends with several people who work at these places and I hear the same things: so many students are in a place where their obsessions are considered more important than the larger world, an argument that Shakespeare is a woman is more important to prove than the greater issues of sexism in society as a whole, while others are trained to look at data and the world as a pocketable fact-book, going to conferences and  week-long summits and then off to D.C. to make important decisions about places they’ve never been to, for people they’ve never met, about problems they’ve never experienced.  

It’s not new. It’s not romantic. It’s not nostalgic. It’s just sick. 

I was horrified at New Haven. I have read so many social science reports and papers and experiments and academic bullshit that has come from professors at Yale with a big badge of ivy-league validation. So much of this research was focused on homelessness and culture clash and socio-economics in America, as that was my “dissertation” that got me discounted master’s classes for my BA in Anthropology. Anyway, my point was that I thought this noble, proud university that put out so much research was going to be situated in something of a utopia, where their research is put into practice. Obviously, I was wrong, but I didn’t expect how wrong. (I had also started reading Leigh Bardugo’s Ninth House, so... there’s another thing).

My observations were validated by employees of ivy-league schools, who have watched over the past 2 decades as they grow more and more reclusive, hiding away from the public except through a few, probably well-intentioned, outstretched hands that do little to contribute to the world outside the university itself. These ivory towers are built by poaching: environments, observations, resources, research, and yeah, even students.

I love academia. I will sit in a library for hours just pulling down tomes (and putting them back in their proper locations like a dork) and drawing connections just for fun. But right now, I’m a bit bitter and spiteful and angry. 

When something like Coronavirus sneaks up on us, we have a tendency to throw the most expendable people under the bus as quickly as we can, and all I can think about is my shadow of a suite-mate sneezing and coughing with swine flu for two weeks, at how I refused to use my own bathroom and listened to my hall-mates’ advice about showering at the rec center a mile away as we all collectively locked our bathroom doors and were left there by the university to get sick without insurance to help with any foreseeable costs.

It’s not the same now, they’ve rebuilt the entire section of the campus, it’s odd to see it, I wonder where they put the expendable kids. Or maybe they don’t accept them anymore. I’ve worked in college admissions since then, and it is a scary industry of politics and preference and hidden quotas and image-agendas. Not all schools are industry monsters, but when you’re expendable, they sure do feel like it, whether you graduate summa cum laude with two degrees, six awards, and five tasseled ropes around your neck or not. 

I wish I had a positive message. I wish I was in a place to help people who feel expendable or like they can’t keep up with communications because of technology or language or network or environment. But I don’t have much right now. For all its posturing and linear progression, academia needs to create profit. All I can do is yell about this existing.

If you are feeling expandable in university, I can tell you you’re not alone. I can let you rant about all the small ways your peers don’t get it, whether its an accent they shit on or ceremonies you don’t have the right clothes for or textbooks you share with a friend to cut costs but then they hoard them. I can relate to you about guilt and that sneaking panic that fills you with anxiety at night as you question yourself and wonder if it’s worth it at all, if it’s necessary, if it’s okay to be expendable to follow something that feels bigger. I can validate your doubt and tell you that you’re not actually expendable, you’re a bridge. 

I’m sorry it still works like this. I wish we figured out how to change it by now, I wish I had secret shortcuts to tell you about, that there was more accountability or hope, but I’m not seeing it lately. I hope you do. <3

[shakespeareanwannabe]

Heartbeats

Santiago Pope Garcia x F!OC/Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Rebecca Cooke

Summary: A first date at a Beer Garden shouldn’t be difficult to manage, especially with his team at his side, but Santi still has doubts.

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol Consumption, Swearing, Benny being Benny, references to war time injuries, references to Anxiety if you squint

A/N: Hey y’all. Sorry it’s been a while. Some stuff came up, but I am so happy to finally have this chapter out to you all! Anyway, this is chapter 3. Please enjoy!

**********

Listening to his own heartbeat had become something that Santi was pretty comfortable with. When the Humvee had hit a landmine during his first deployment, sending him, Frankie, and Will sky high, he’d woken up in a military hospital in Germany, with only the steady beeping of his heart monitor to keep him company. Well, it kept him company until Will wandered in with a cup of coffee. The youngest member of the team had somehow managed to walk away with a couple of cracked ribs and some scarring on his back, whereas Pope had fractured his knee and given himself a pretty nasty concussion. At that point, Frankie was still out. He had broken a rib, punctured a lung, and fractured his hip, all on top of a nastier concussion than Pope’s. There was a harried moment when they thought he wouldn’t make it, but Fish was the toughest bastard out of any of them, and within nine months he was patrolling the desert with Santi once more.

After various near-misses, his multiple knee surgeries, and his so-called miracle neck surgery, Santi woke up to that same sound of his heart beating. It reminded him that he was alive. It was a comfort.

Now, his heart was beating so loudly in his ears he couldn’t think straight. And, the kicker was, he wasn’t even in country or recovering from a near miss. He wasn’t getting shot at or sneaking around an enemy compound. He wasn’t even sitting in the back of a helicopter while Fish tried to fly it over the fucking Andes while carrying too much weight and, fuck, he was an idiot. He hadn’t even been able to pull off a ‘sure thing’ mission. He hadn’t been able to pull of a relationship with a girl that everyone thought he was fucking anyway. Why the fuck did he think he would be able to pull off impressing this much younger woman who, for some god forsaken reason, thought he was worth her time?

Rebecca was a professional. She had a fucking Masters of Fine Arts that she used to lead tours and co-curate the art museum while also teaching art lessons to kids all across the state. And then there was him. Santiago Garcia. A washed up, beaten down, half-broken retired soldier who was living off his (not unsubstantial) savings and the kindness of friends, who had almost no prospects other than signing another damn contract and going off to shoot questionable people under the orders of even more questionable people until his knees gave out or he broke his fucking neck running around on favela rooftops. She was so far out of his league, he had no clue how to even find her league.

And yet, he found himself sitting outside her apartment in his truck, about to go and buzz up to let her know that he was there. Early. To pick her up. For their date. What was he thinking?

He was shaken out of his negative reverie when his phone buzzed four times in quick succession.

“I swear to god, if you’re sitting outside her apartment deliberating over actually picking her up or standing her up, I will drive there myself and beat some sense into you.”

“Hey man, Charlie’s had a little too much to drink (first weekend alone without Mateo) and she’s threatening your manhood if you stand up your date. Do not show up here alone, cabrón.”

“Dude, you’re bringing a date? Why haven’t I heard about this lovely lady?”

“Ignore him. He’s drunk.”

Pope could imagine his friends, his team, sitting around their reserved table at the beer garden, acting like millennials with their phones out, texting him and ignoring each other for a moment. They were insane…He loved them.

“Keep your shirts on, I’m coming.” He copied and pasted the message into the four separate threads and sent them off, ignoring when his phone buzzed again with what could only be a “That’s what she said” reply from Benny as he exited his truck and made his way to her lobby door.

He pressed the small white button next to her name and waited impatiently for her response.

“Hello?” the tinny machine garbled, but he had become accustomed to her voice. It was quickly becoming one of his favourite sounds, like the sound of the waves at the beach or the sound of his own heartbeat. Soothing.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, c’mon up! I’ll be ready to go in five!”

Santi gulped then shook his head and pulled the door open when the lock clicked, signalling that she had unlocked it for him. What was he nervous about? He was god damn Delta Force. Some girl should not be shaking him up this bad.

Santi took the short elevator ride up to the fifth floor, trying to calm his hammering heart, and knocked on her door.

When the door creaked open, he was reminded that Rebecca Cooke wasn’t just ‘some girl’. He had taken one look at her, sweaty and red faced and face distorted from pressing into a massage table and been smitten. Every conversation he had with her dragged him further in, until he was hooked.

Now, standing in front of him, dressed in a sapphire blue lace dress that swished around her knees, he was smacked in the face with the fact that she was, in fact, the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. The short sleeves showed off the smoothness of her arms and the V-neck had him having to drag his eyes away from her décolletage.

“Hey Santi,” she smiled gently at him, moving in to place her hands on his shoulders as she placed a hesitant kiss on his cheek.

“Um…hey,” he replied, mentally kicking himself for being so lame. “Uh, these are for you.” He handed her the bouquet of wildflowers he had bought on a whim on his drive over.

Rebecca smiled up at him, a slight glimmer in her eyes as though he had just made her the happiest person on the planet. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he blurted. She giggled, turning her back to him and he grimaced at the stupid cornball line.

“Let me put these in some water and grab my shoes, and we can go, okay?” she called back. He looked towards her retreating form and gulped at the sight of her bare back. Fuck, this was going to be a long night if he couldn’t get himself under control. If he was going to actively pursue Rebecca, he was going to do it properly.

“Uh, yeah. No worries.” He followed her a few steps into her home and peered around at the small space. It was a small apartment, cozy and warm. A suede sectional sofa overtook most of the living room, a soft looking throw blanket tossed over the side and brightly coloured patterned pillows were piled up on one end as though she had been searching for something. A variety of prints and pictures decorated her walls, everything from the infamous Kissing on VJ Day photo to a print of San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk by Monet, drawing his eye from one frame to another in rapid succession, drinking in the little details of the life she lived that he so desperately hoped to be a part of.

“Ready to go?”

His eyes were drawn back to her like magnets as she exited the small but spacious kitchen, glass vase in hand. She deposited the vase with the wildflowers on the side table next to the sofa, picked up her purse and held up her other hand, a pair of strappy sandals hanging from her finger.

“Uh…yeah. Sorry. It’s a, uh…it’s a nice place you’ve got here,” he managed to get out, cursing himself internally at his stupidity.

She smiled sweetly at him, that starry-eyed look still in her eyes as she clutched his arm to slide her sandals on.

“Thanks. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

She didn’t release his arm as they exited the apartment, clutching him close as she locked the door, as they rode the elevator, and exited the building. He shifted carefully to grip her hand and help her into his truck, closing the door softly behind her as he paced over to his door, silently coaching himself to not be a total idiot on this date.

She was into him. Holding onto his arm, looking at him the way she was. She liked him. All he had to do was not screw it up…and not let his friends screw it up.

He hauled himself up into the driver’s seat of the truck and let it idle for a minute as he double checked his mirrors. Finally, he pulled out of the parking lot and began the ten-minute drive to the Beer Garden.

“I, uh, I meant what I said. About your apartment. And about how beautiful you look. Because you do. Look beautiful, I mean. That dress is…nice.”

“Thanks.” An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and Santi fidgeted with the wheel. He was halfway to convincing himself that this whole thing had been a bad idea when she turned to him. “Are you as nervous as I am?”

“Fuck yes,” he breathed, causing her to giggle. “I swear to god, I’m not normally like this.”

“I know, that’s why I asked! I thought you were either really nervous or completely regretting asking me out,” she sighed, leaning back in her seat as the tension began to slowly dissipate.

He waited until he pulled up to a red light to turn and meet her gaze. “The only regret I’d have is if I didn’t ask you out at all and was left wondering what might have happened if I’d just gotten my balls up and asked.”

He watched her eyes widen as she looked down at her lap, jerking the car back into motion as someone honked behind him.

“Can I confess something to you?” She waited for his nod. “I had a shot before you got to my place to try to calm my nerves, but I don’t think it worked. I just…why are we nervous? We’ve been friends for a couple of months now, right?”

“Right!” he exclaimed, laughing as he risked another look at her. “I don’t know, Bex. Maybe that’s why we’re nervous?”

She shrugged delicately, pulling her legs up into the seat as she twisted to watch him drive. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just…I really want this to go well, you know?”

Santi took a hand off the wheel and reached out to squeeze her hand. “I know. I really know.”

She sighed, twisting her hand in his grip until she could interlace their fingers. “Okay. So. We’re two friends. Going on a date. We’ll just…see how it goes, okay? At the end of the night, if we decide we’re better off as friends, you drop me off, give me a high five, and we’ll see each other on Monday at the clinic.”

“But?” he asked anxiously because, like he said, he knew. He knew how badly she wanted things to go well because he desperately wanted the same thing. He’d been drowning in her for months, and he felt like he was just now being taught how to swim.

“But…” he heard her take a shuddery breath. “But if things do go well, and I really hope they do, Santi…If things go well, we agree to go on that coffee date before our sessions on Monday. Deal?”

He squeezed her hand again. “Deal.”

**********

The Beer Garden was a nice place. A solid first date choice. There was liquor to settle the nerves, incredible food to snack on over conversation, a live band to dance along to, mood lighting, and an outdoor patio with fairy lights that was pretty fucking magical, if Santi was allowed to say so.

He and the team had been there once or twice, usually after completing a room at Santi’s house, but this was the first time both Charlie and Frankie would be joining them, since Mateo was off for a sleepover at Grandma’s house. In a way, Santi was grateful. Rebecca knew Charlie, and Charlie was very protective of her patients both inside and outside of the clinic. Santi knew that Charlie and Frankie would help make her feel welcome. Will wouldn’t be an issue. But Benny…when the kid drank, he drank hard, and he was a loudmouth stone cold sober. Hopefully, Will would be able to keep his kid brother in line.

Santi slowed as he felt the distance between him and Rebecca grow, their arms growing taut until he was forced to stop and turn around, lest he let go of her hand.

“Hey, you okay?” he moved to stand in front of her, shielding her from the busy wait staff and slightly drunken customers who were milling around the door to the outdoor patio.

She offered him a distracted nod, her free hand coming up to smooth her hair behind her ear. “Uh, I’m just gonna…” her eyes widened slightly as she caught sight of Charlie sitting at a long picnic style table with a bunch of large men. She met his eyes urgently. “I’ll be right back. Bathroom.”

Again, Santi found himself watching her retreating form as he cursed his own actions. He thought that having a group hangout would be a good idea for a first date. It kept things loose and informal and, after their conversation in the truck, he thought it couldn’t hurt to have some people there to help things continue moving in the right direction. Besides, so many people had group first dates. It kept things light. Only, now Pope was seeing his mistake. He wasn’t just introducing Rebecca to his friends. He was introducing her to the most important people in his life. His closest friends. His team.

“Fuck…” he mumbled to himself as he watched her duck into the bathroom before nearly sprinting outside to the table. He dodged a few waiters and barbacks before slamming his hands down on the table, causing Benny to jump. “She’s in the bathroom, Chuck, don’t start,” he quickly stated, watching as Charlie’s eyes went from murderous to understanding in the space of a blink. He slowly met each and every one of their eyes. “If any one of you motherfuckers ruin this for me, I swear to god I’ll find a way to end you.”

“Hey, I like her already,” Charlie shrugged, tipping her glass back to swallow the last of the foam. “If you ruin this with her, I’ll be the one ending you.”

“Noted. Fish?” His best friend cocked an eyebrow at him and Santi nodded, communicating in that way that only best friends can. “Fair enough. Will?”

“Hey man, I just came out for a drink.”

“Yeah, I know,” he conceded, before fixing his eyes on the youngest member of the group. “Benny?”

“What? What am I gonna do?”

“Considering you’ve stared at every waitress’ ass as they walk by, and commented on two of the barbacks’ butts, I’d say you’re definitely the problem here, Ben,” Charlie commented lightly, leaning over to rest her head gently on Frankie’s shoulder, smiling softly when he planted a sweet kiss on her temple.

“Hey, I—”

“Shut up, she’s right,” Will growled into his glass.

“Fine, I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Charlie, did you collect on your little workplace bet?” She offered him a slightly drunken thumbs-up. “Good, you’re buying.” Pope considered the table before him before straightening and taking a few steps back towards the door. “Please, just be nice?”

“Hey, I’m always nice!” countered Benny, a cocksure grin on his face.

“Yeah, that’s what he’s afraid of, dipshit.”

The din of another Miller argument faded as Santi returned to his post just in time for Rebecca to emerge from the bathroom.

“Uh, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” Santi wrapped his arm around her shoulder as he led her out onto the raised wooden patio. “You’re still nervous, huh?”

She nodded hesitantly. “Charlie’s fine, but the rest of your friends…”

Santi tugged her gently to the side and pulled her to a stop.

“Don’t worry about them, okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “Santi, you fought a war with them. That’s not something I can just not worry about.”

“Look, they’re gonna love you. Trust me…” he looked over his shoulder to peer at his friends, who were all surreptitiously trying to both look at them and look natural. “They’re idiots, but they’re my idiots. Look…see that blond guy? That’s Will. You could set a bomb off next to him and he wouldn’t flinch.”

“Oh, so that’s Will the Wise?” Santi smiled at the moniker. He’d found himself dropping some of Will’s more memorable motivational quotes during physio, and she had come up with the name for his quiet but forceful friend. “And the one who hasn’t stopped staring at my ass is Benny, I assume?” Santi whipped his head around to see Benny subtly trying to peer around him to get a glance at Bex’s profile. He quickly moved into his field of view and turned his back on him. Benny wanted to check out a nice ass? He could feel free. “And I know Charlie, which makes the quiet one…?”

Santi smiled softly. “That’s Frankie.”

“I like him already.”

His smile grew at the pronouncement. “I figured you would. Frankie’s good people. Easy to get along with. Now, please don’t worry?” he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze before running his hands up and down her arms soothingly. “They’re gonna see exactly what I see.”

“Which is?”

He smiled. “A stunningly beautiful, intelligent woman who I somehow suckered into going out with me. Ready?”

She gripped his hand again and smiled up at him. “Ready.”

**********

Things were going…well. Better than Santi had dared to hope. He didn’t know what Will had said, but Benny was being a real gentleman and keeping his mouth shut other than asking polite and interested questions about Bex’s work. Bex and Frankie had taken off like two peas in a pod, which gave him a warm feeling in his chest that he dared not name. Not now, anyway. Instead of examining his feelings, he decided to go get another drink.

He stood slowly, squeezing her hand when the angle got too awkward to maintain contact, and leaned down to ask, “You want another one, Bex?”

She smiled and nodded, “Yeah, would you mind getting me a pale ale this time?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up!” Benny interrupted, leaning across the table towards them. “She got a nickname?”

Santi shot Will a look, but the older Miller just held his hands up in surrender, as if to say, “You brought it on yourself”.

“I-is that a problem?” Rebecca asked, looking around confused.

Frankie leaned forward, resting his free arm against the table and adjusting his grip around Charlie’s waist. “Every one of us has a nickname,” he explained quietly. “For us,” he gestured to the men. “It’s a military thing. Kind of like a right of passage.”

“I earned ‘Charlie’ after three months of seriously dating Frankie,” Charlie added, her voice only slightly muffled from her cheek resting on Frankie’s chest. “Chuck came three months after that, and then only Santi gets to call me that.”

“Oh…” Rebecca murmured, wrapping her arms around herself and looking around the table at the demolished plates of nachos, chicken wings, sliders, poutine, and potato wedges. Santi quickly retook his seat, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

It had been instinct, giving her a nickname. Rebecca was too formal for the spitfire who made him laugh so hard his abs hurt more than his knees after a physio session. Becca was cute but she had grimaced at the name, citing overuse in popular culture for her dislike. Rebbie made her snort, and Becky made him want to go find Douchebag Derek and give him a swift kick so there was no way his DNA would be reproduced.

She had loved the name Bex. It was rare, it was quick, it denoted her spark and her wit, and, best of all, he was the only one who used it. Now, it looked like she was feeling insecure in it.

“Frankie’s nickname is Catfish,” he piped up, not wanting her to think too much on the subject of him giving her a cute moniker so early in their relationship (week 3 to be exact).

It worked. Her head whipped around so quickly both Charlie and Santi winced.

“Really? Why?” she asked the man sitting next to her.

Frankie’s quick glare and microscope cock of the eyebrow went unnoticed by the entire table, except Santi, who gave him an apologetic half shrug.

“When we were in basic,” he began with a good-natured grumble. “We were all swapping stories one night, and the only good one I had was the one where my old man and I went out fishing together.” Rebecca watched as Charlie placed a small kiss on Frankie’s chest, just above the third highest button, where Frankie had evidently decided to quit, not that his fiancée was complaining about the excess skin on display. Clearly a sore subject, Rebecca filed away for later. “We went all day without catching a single fish, but just as we were about to call it quits, there’s a tug on my line. And I ended up reeling in a 17-pound catfish.”

“Last time you told the story it was 15 pounds,” Will muttered.

“I always heard 13,” Benny laughed.

“Eh, whatever. It was a big fish to 10-year-old me, okay?” Frankie downed the last of his beer. “Besides, it’s not as stupid as how Ironhead got his name.”

Santi laughed. “Oh, that’s a good one.” Will glared at him. “Hey man, Frankie told his story, now you’ve gotta tell yours.”

Will sighed as he sat forward, leaning in towards Rebecca. “So…I was probably the clumsiest private in basic training. Now, I could do push ups and sit ups like a champion, but the more complicated exercises…Well, let’s just say our drill sergeant didn’t know what the hell to do with me. Climbing a rope ladder? I’d get my foot twisted and end up hanging there like three-day old laundry on the line. Going on a march through the woods? I’d find the only rock in the road and trip over it. Field striping a rifle? I’d yank on something too quickly and give myself a black eye.” Rebecca giggled, bringing a smile to Santi’s face. “And inevitably, every time I screwed up, I’d end up smacking my head. One day, we were doing this exercise and I really got my bell rung. Our drill sergeant sent me to the infirmary because he knew there was no way in hell that I didn’t have a concussion. But I didn’t. Hell, I didn’t even pass out. When he found out, he was shocked. Said I must have the hardest skull on earth. Thus, Ironhead was born.”

“Pfft…” Benny snorted loudly, the sound breaking through Bex’s giggles and Charlie’s muffled chuckles. “It’s not even a good story, man! I coulda told your drill sergeant that you were clumsy as fuck the day you enlisted! Now, Pope’s…that’s a good fucking story,” he guffawed, leaning back as far as the bench seat would let him.

“Benny…” Will put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, which was quickly shrugged off. Santi fixed him with a glare, and Frankie was subtly drawing his hand over his neck, but Benny was too drunk to care.

“Pope?” Bex looked up at Santi confusedly, but he didn’t get the chance to explain before Benny’s crowing laughter boomed out once more.

“‘Oh god, oh god! Yes god! Yes! Please, god. Por favor, mi dios! Oh my god, oh my god!’,” Benny’s voice rang out in a poor imitation of a girlish squeal. He threw his head back and laughed drunkenly, almost falling off the bench seat. “We thought for sure that Corporal had to have the Pope himself in her room for her to be screaming for God that loudly. But no. Turned out to only be Santiago Garcia, known almost exclusively as Pope from then on out.”

Bex looked between the two men, eyes wide, before standing and squeezing out into the crowd, heading back towards the bathrooms.

“At least I got a nickname, jackass,” Santi hissed, kicking away from the table. “I didn’t spend my whole military career known only as ‘Will’s Little Brother Benny’.”

Santi turned and chased after Rebecca, praying she hadn’t gone too far.

“What? What did I say?” Benny asked, half a potato skin hanging out of his mouth.

“If this fucks them up, I’ll kick your ass for both of them,” Charlie groaned, unable to take her eyes away from where her two friends had just disappeared.

**********

He found her standing under the strings of lights that hung above the front door.

“Y-you weren’t thinking of leaving, were you?” he asked in a slightly trembling voice.

She turned to him, eyes bright, and chuckled. “No…I just needed some air. Well,” she looked around the darkened city street. “Some different air. Front fresh air instead of back fresh air. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged out of his jacket and gently placed it over her shoulders as she shivered. “I…I’m sorry about Benny. He’s an idiot most of the time, but when he drinks…”

“He could win the Nobel Prize for Darwinism?”

He chuckled, a soft smirk appearing on his face. “Yeah, something like that.” They stared up at the dark sky for a long moment, a hesitant peace falling between them. “That story he told…I’m not exactly proud of the way I used to be. I hope you know that.”

Rebecca shrugged delicately. “We all have a past. We all have things we’re not proud of. What matters is who we are today. And you want to know something?” she looked up at him with those eyes, and he pressed down the urge to kiss her.

“What?”

“I really like who you are today,” she whispered, bringing a smile to his face.

“I really like who you are every day,” he whispered back, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, his smile growing even larger when she leaned into him. “You ready to get out of here?”

She wrapped his jacket tighter around her body. “Yeah, it’s getting a little chilly.”

He nodded in agreement, gave her a quick squeeze and released her. “I’ll go grab my wallet and we can get going.”

Santi wove his way back through the crowded Beer Garden until he reached the table, quietly scooping up his wallet.

“Everything okay?” Frankie asked quietly as Charlie dozed on his chest.

“Yeah, tell your firecracker that she doesn’t have to kick any asses. See you tomorrow?” Frankie nodded as Santi pulled out a crisp twenty and threw it on the table. “Adios, hermano,” he murmured, bringing his hand gently down upon Frankie’s cap and giving his head a slight jiggle. “Will, can you get me that info on that electrician?” Will nodded as Santi clapped a hand down on his shoulder, bringing his hand up to gently clasp his buddy’s forearm before Santi removed it to give Benny a quick swat on the back of the head.

“Hey!” Santi fixed him with a glare. “Yeah, okay. I deserved that. Night man.”

Santi strolled out of the restaurant, a smile tugging at his lips when he saw Rebecca, wrapped in his jacket, staring at the restaurant doors, waiting for him. That warm feeling in the pit of his stomach came back full force, and, for the first time, he didn’t want it to go away.

**********

His truck quietly slid into a parking spot out front of her apartment building.

“Well…” she murmured. “I guess this is me.”

Santi nodded, a sigh building in his chest. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t want a simple dinner date to end, but he wanted it to continue. He wanted to keep talking to her, keep listening to her, keep touching her.

“I’ll, uh…I’ll walk you to the front door,” he stated, desperate to stretch their remaining few seconds as long as he could.

She smiled and waited as he made his way around the front of the truck, opening her door and offering her his hand. They strolled the maybe twenty paces to the front door and stopped, turning to face each other while their free hands sought each other out.

“I had a really nice time. Your friends are great. Frankie’s awesome.”

“He really is.”

“Well…uh…good night, Santi.”

“Bex?” he tugged slightly on her hands, so she remained facing him. “I…” That warm feeling in his stomach burst. “Oh, fuck it,” he pressed forward, planting his lips on hers the way he had been imaging since he had picked her up four hours previous. Sweet and tender, raw and full of something that would go unnamed for a while but had so much potential. He pulled back for the space of a breath, taking in her closed eyes and slightly parted lips. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

Finally, her eyes opened. “Don’t stop,” she quietly pled, freeing her hands to place them on either side of his face, tugging him back to her lips.

They stood there for what could have been minutes or hours, neither knew nor cared. It was like every moment of their friendship had been leading them to this moment, and they wanted to live in it forever.

It wasn’t until the nearby sound of a fire truck siren starting up broke the serene quiet that they broke apart.

“So, uh…coffee on Monday?” she asked, eyes slightly glazed over and lips plump.

“Definitely.”

**********

Tags list: @darksideofclarke, @writefightandflightclub, @eternallyvenus, @rae-rae-patcha, @himbopoes, @sophoclese, @phoenixhalliwell, @buckstaposition, @who-talks-first

[nayutai]

Baby Don’t Move

⇢ Pairing Yunho x Female OC | Office Worker AU

⇢ Word Count 6.010

⇢ Warnings Yunho has a filthy mouth and a huge dick, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, cursing (in general), aaaand I think that’s it

⇢ Summary Naima Yancey is ambitious and determined so her promotion at DevTech comes as no surprise to anyone. What should be a joyous moment for her is tainted. The promotion comes with a real office, more money, and a higher status, but it also comes with close proximity to the office golden boy Yunho. He gets under her skin in a way no one ever has, but she’s determined not to let this oversized menace ruin this opportunity for her. Turns out, Yunho would rather ruin her instead.

The muted ding of the elevator sounds much too joyful to Naima. Her transfer to the accounts receivable department should be marked by the sound of a death rattle or a dying elephant. A twinkling little ding only makes her even more pissed off. She glances down at the contents of the box nestled in her arms to see the brand new name plate she’d been given for her new office. 

Naima Yancey

Receivables Supervisor

The youngest supervisor in DevTech history according to HR. She guesses that anyone else in her position would be excited about the transfer she’s mentally griping about. It’s not every day that someone like her gets unexpectedly promoted to a supervisory position. Naima has only been with the company for three years and apparently she’d made the most of that time. She pauses next to a sea of cubicles to scan the numbers above the offices on either side of the employees rapidly typing away at their stations. Only a few of them even bother to give her a second glance and for that Naima is incredibly grateful. She finally spots her destination, hiking the cardboard box she’s unloaded her desk into a little higher on her hip. She takes half of a step and immediately regrets every life choice that led her to this point.

“Well look who we have here. Are you lost, Ravioli?” Naima grits her teeth at that god awful nickname, swallowing the scathing retort that’s burning her throat. The deep baritone voice sounding off somewhere over her left shoulder is the cause of every ounce of the work stress she carries in her shoulders like a boulder. 

Yunho Jeong. Beholder of an unfair amount of undeserved beauty and the victim in Naima’s most murderous dreams. 

“You were in the staff meeting when they announced my promotion, Yunho.” She deadpans. Her skin is starting to itch from the prolonged exposure to the man in front of her. The smirk that is practically permanently etched on his face does nothing but piss her even more. She wants to smack him until it disappears.

“I’m just messing with you, Ravioli. You know that. Welcome to Receivables.” He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as he starts backing away. “Try not to fuck it up!” Naima can feel the thick cardboard of her box bending to the forceful clench of her fists. The weight of of nearly fifty pairs of eyes keeps the scathing remark she wants to make from bubbling up. 

Fucking Yunho. Naima hasn’t even been in Receivables for an hour and she’s already doubting if the extra money is worth the headache. Okay, who is she kidding? The extra money is definitely worth it. Getting ahead of her bills had felt like the pipe dream of a wistful millennial before it had become an unexpected reality just last week. No way she lets some oversized preteen bully ruin this for her.

Naima is almost done putting her things into her new desk when the sound of an office door loudly closing disturbs her concentration. She looks up to see the source of the noise is none other than Yunho himself. All of the offices on this floor conveniently have floor to ceiling windows next to the door which allows people directly across from each other to see into the other person’s office. Naima is absolutely horrified at the implications of this as Yunho stares her down with a satisfied smirk. It’s obvious now that he slammed his door on purpose to get her attention. 

“This is the worst day of my life.” Naima mumbles to herself as she does her best to ignore Yunho’s gaze burning into her forehead. 

IT arrives a few tense minutes later to set up her docking station and get her started on the training modules for her new job duties. She’s taking notes on how to perform certain functions in the billing system when she receives a chat notification from her work husband Knox Rivers back in her old department. 

KR: Hey wifey how’s the swanky new digs?

NY: My office is DIRECTLY across from Yunho’s office

NY: I can literally see every move he makes and he can see mine

KR: Dreamville? My treat

Naima immediately perks up at the mention of the bar down the street that has become a favorite amongst their group of friends. It’s going to take a lot to make her feel good about working in such close proximity with Satan’s hardest working demon, but a free round of drinks is a great start.

NY: I’ll meet you downstairs at 5:30

Naima nearly bursts into tears when she steps off of the elevator and spots Knox leaning seated in the lobby playing a game on his phone. She’s always thought that he looked like Thor with his long hair and athletic build and right now a superhero is exactly what she needs. A giggle bubbles up from Naima’s throat at the red stain that creeps down Knox’s throat when she sneaks up on him to kiss his cheek. 

“Come on, big guy. There’s a Blue Magic with my name on it and I intend to collect my due.” Naimah declares, clapping Knox on his broad shoulders. 

“Lead the way, my lady.” He holds the door open like the gentleman he is with a dramatic flourish. Naima’s heart twinges a little. She misses the days when talking to him in person required her to lean back in her chair as opposed to taking an elevator ride. 

A few other people from the office are already at Dreamville when Naima and Knox arrive. They’re quickly swept up in familiar gossip and more drinks than anyone has a right to consume on a Tuesday evening. She’s engaged in a dangerous game of darts with a new employee named Xavier when a horribly familiar voice rings out above all the noise in the bar. Her head whips in the direction the voice came from, but the dart flies from her fingers anyway nearly taking some poor girl’s eye out. She yells out an apology but apparently her almost victim has had a little too much to drink herself and simply waves her off.

“Nice aim, Ravioli. An inch to the left and you would’ve scored a perfect murder.” Yunho taunts. Naima crosses her arms across her chest in indignation. Her eyes watch him intently and therefore don’t miss the way his gaze drops to get a look at her cleavage. His jaw ticks and she wants nothing more than to comment on that but Xavier interrupts by extending his hand in Yunho’s direction as he introduces himself.

“Naima, you ready to leave? I was about to call an Uber.” Knox materializes out of nowhere, phone in hand and Naima’s eyes nearly pop out of her head when she sees that it’s nearing eleven. She hadn’t realized that they’d been there for so long.

“See you tomorrow, Ravioli. Later, Knox.” She’d almost forgotten that Yunho was still here. He winks at her before he turns to walk away and, despite the fact that he can no longer see her, Naima flips him off. 

Naima is still fuming nineteen minutes later when the Uber arrives. She successfully dodges Knox’s first few questions about why she’s so mad, but he eventually wears her down. She’d forgotten that Knox becomes a wannabe psychologist that likes to talk about people’s feelings after he’s had a few drinks.

“What do you have against him? You’re probably the only person at the whole company that doesn’t get along with him.” Naima rolls her eyes skyward. Yunho the golden boy is apparently loved by everyone and it makes her seethe even more. She wracks her brain for someone at the company that she can add to her side and thankfully comes up with a name.

“Fake news! Saia in purchasing called him a douche nozzle last week and I am inclined to agree.” Naima is quite pleased with herself as she settles back into the plush seating of the SUV. Her satisfaction is short lived.

“Saia doesn’t count.” Knox counters quickly. “Yunho dated her younger sister and it ended badly so that just leaves you.”

“The night before my first day at DevTech, my friends from back home came to town to celebrate and we went to this super fancy restaurant.” The red light at the intersection bathes them both in its glow which is ironic in Naima’s opinion. 

She regales Knox with the store of how her friend Keyanna had bought her a ravioli entree to go so that she could have her favorite food on her first day. Yunho had snuck up on her when she was in the break room, startling her to the point that she ended up dropping a ravioli on her white button up. Of course the evil bastard had laughed about it till he could barely stand. She’d had to walk around for the rest of the day with the sauce stain on her shirt and Yunho has called her Ravioli every day since then.

“That…” Knox pauses to piece his thoughts together. “okay, yeah, I can’t say I’d be too fond of him either after that.” He admits.

“See? He’s an asshole and I hope he steps on a lego every day for the rest of his miserable life.” Their Uber driver, who had remained silent aside from the quick hello when they’d gotten in her car, snorts at the curse Naima speaks into Yunho’s life. 

“You know he teases you because he probably wants to fuck you right? Men aren’t as evolved as people would like to believe.” Knox points out. Naima withdraws from him as if he just told her to go fuck herself.

“If he thinks that being an asshole will grant him access to my pearly gates then he’s a bigger idiot than I thought he was.” She and the driver exchange a high five when she chimes in with her agreement. Naima makes a mental note to make sure that Knox tips her good for being an intellectual.

A wave of exhaustion washes over Naima when their apartment complex comes into view.  Thoughts of a hot shower and her fluffy pillows makes the time required to drive to their part of the complex feel like an eternity. She bids the friendly Uber driver a safe and prosperous night before all but running towards her building with a wave to Knox tossed carelessly over her shoulder as he makes his way to the building directly across from hers.

“Morning, Killer.” Yunho is way too chipper this morning especially since Naima has already had to suffer through elevator chatter about how he won a drinking contest last night. It doesn’t help that now he’s bringing up her almost homicide.

“Don’t you have something else to do? Like your job?” Yunho pretends to recoil from her remark as he follows Naima to her office. She wishes she could just haul off and smack him but that wouldn’t bode well for her professional career.

He props himself up against the wall next to her office and it’s as she unlocking her door that she registers just how close he is to her. A small shift of her weight to her right foot would push her up against his chest. Her mind drifts back to what Knox had said last night. She side eyes him cautiously before turning fully to face him head on. If anyone were to ask, Naima would blame what she does next on residual alcohol still inhibiting her rational thought.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Yunho blinks several times in shock but he recovers quickly. He flips around to take stock of the people still filtering into the office to see if anyone is within ear shot and is seemingly satisfied by the lack of people around them.

“I never pegged you to have an exhibition kink, Ravioli.” She curses herself at the way the low timbre of his voice resonates deep in her gut. The greasy smile on his face however, makes her want to puke.

“My kinks are none of your business. I’m just trying to prove a point. Now answer the question.”

“I can only imagine what that point is, but yes, I would absolutely love to ravish you.” He leans in even closer so that she can smell the minty scent of his toothpaste when he whispers in her ear. His closeness doesn’t make her recoil in the way that she thought it would and the reasoning behind that is definitely not something she’s willing to explore.

The second she gets her laptop booted up she’s tapping out a message to Knox.

NY: Lunch on me today. We need to talk.

KR: I’m all yours at 12:30 

Naima is still pondering her conversation with Knox when she steps off of the elevator to go back to her office after lunch. He seems to think that the best way to get Yunho off her back is to fuck him. According to Knox and his personal knowledge of “guy logic”, that will get her out of Yunho’s system and his annoying behavior will cease. Naima isn’t so sure about that. She’s so far inside her own head that she doesn’t even hear someone calling her name until they tap her on her shoulder. Of course, it’s Yunho. Luck is just not on her side today.

“Ravioli, you should consider getting your ears checked. I called you four times.”

“And you should consider that maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.” She replies. He makes himself comfortable in her office as she drops her purse into one of the desk drawers to jump back into her work. 

“Oh, don’t be that way, Ravioli. I thought we were past this animosity thing since you practically propositioned me in the hallway.” He looks so smug as he recalls her blunder from earlier. God he’s so infuriating. Naima adds this to her running list of why men should be removed from Earth. She says nothing, choosing to simply point towards her office door. Thankfully, he’s not too dense that he can’t take a hint and returns to his own office space.

She’s settled into a steady pace with her work when her computer pings with a message. The prospect of clearing out her dashboard and possibly being able to leave early is too sweet to break her stride. Two more subsequent pings from effectively breaks her concentration.

YJ: hey

YJ: you look so cute when you’re concentrating

YJ: don’t ignore me I’m sensitive ���

She looks through the glass into Yunho’s office to see him already staring directly at her. His head being propped up on his hands suggests that he’s been doing it for a while. He blows a kiss in her which she returns with a middle finger. She raises her computer monitors so that he’s no longer able to see her face. 

Next order of business: buying blinds

Naima groans out loud when her computer pings with yet another message. At this rate she’s going to have to stay late to get everything done. She halfway expects the new message to be another annoying attempt at conversation from Yunho but thankfully this one is from someone that she actually doesn’t mind talking to.

KR: hey did you hear that Yaya bought a new house?

NY: yeah she just texted me that she’s having a bbq this weekend to celebrate the closing

KR: you going? 👀

NY: don’t ask me a stupid question like that of course I’m going

KR: lmao okay so we can split an uber then

KR: wanna leave at like 3?

NY: yeah that’s fine with me!

Naima is so happy for Saturday to finally roll around that she could cry. Yaya had told her a few things on the menu on Wednesday and her mouth has been watering ever since. Her husband is a chef at some fancy restaurant so she knows that this will be the best food she’s had in a while. 

Knox and Naima are both slack-jawed at the absolute grandeur of Yaya’s house as their Uber driver comes to a stop in the center of the horseshoe shaped driveway. She’d neglected to mention that her new house is actually a castle. Naima frowns when she spots Yunho’s flashy Mercedes amongst the cars already parked in the driveway, but she’s determined to have a good time despite his presence. They follow the sound of music and splashing to the backyard to see a majority of the DevTech staff in the backyard. They’re quick to strip down to their bathing suits to join in on the chicken fight in the pool.

Naima has just sent Alexis from marketing flying off of Xavier’s shoulders when Yaya announces that it’s time to eat. It’s a race to get out of the pool as everyone is hustling for a good spot in line. Naima is cursing the god awful heaviness that plagues her every time she steps out of a pool when she hears a low whistle from behind her. It’s Yunho and his eyes are trained directly on her ass. Big surprise there.

“Yellow is definitely your color, Ravioli.” He produces a large, fluffy towel seemingly out of nowhere, offering it to her. She’s hesitant to accept it but a quick glance towards the now empty table that had once held an assload of towels changes her mind.

“I think I would look just as good on you.” Yunho smiles as if he’s just hit her with the best pick up line known to man. He’s gotten quite brazen with his flirtatious attempts ever since he’d exposed his sexual intentions on Monday.

“You talk a big game but everyone knows that overly confident men are just…” Naimah trails off with a pointed look at the front of Yunho’s jeans as she takes a sip of her lemonade. “overcompensating.”

Yunho pokes at the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he considers the woman in front of him with amusement. He revels in the way she swallows nervously when he closes the gap between them. Every breath she takes causes her barely covered chest to graze against his but, to her credit, she doesn’t back away. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but being this close to Yunho is making her blood run hot. She chooses to blame it on her primitive instincts and not actual attraction, but even she knows that’s a lie.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to speak on things you know nothing about, Ravioli?” She can’t decide what she’s more mad at, the nickname or the insinuation that this asshole just said she’s wrong. She’s not.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie?” She bristles. Yunho’s sarcastic little grin only grows in response to her anger. It’s like he gets off on making her want to wring his neck.

“Admit it, Ravioli. You want this just as much as I do.” Naima gasps when Yunho suddenly wraps an arm around her wait, jerking her to him. He leans down so that he’s speaking directly into her ear and in that moment, Naima knows she’s a goner. All these months of resisting him and he’s about to break her by whispering in her ear. She wants to scream bloody murder. “All you have to do is say the word and I’ll take you higher than you’ve ever been.”

“Prove it.” Naima feels like she’s put the final nail in her own coffin. Yunho has successfully worn her down. She can’t see his face, but she doesn’t have to to know that he’s smiling like he’s just won the lottery.

“Let’s go, Ravioli.” Naima expects Knox to be disappointed to see her leaving with Yunho when she waves at him to say bye, but instead he wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively. She makes a mental note to yell at him for that later.

The ride to Yunho’s apartment is entirely too short. Naima’s shoulders are wrought with tension as she follows him up the stairs. Part of her wants to turn and run, but a much larger part is telling her to stay to see this through. Yunho has spoken quite highly of his sexual prowess and she’s more curious than not on just how much of it is true.

Yunho is on her the second she toes off her shoes by the door. One of his large hands firmly holds her jaw in place while he ravages her mouth with his own. Naima clings to his shirt to both hold him to her and ground herself in the moment. She feels lightheaded but it’s not from lack of oxygen. He uses his grip on her jaw to pry her mouth open, furthering his claim on her. The hand not covering her jaw skims across the skin above her shorts before deftly undoing the button. Her lips chase his when Yunho pulls away but he avoids her advances.

“Your lips taste so sweet. I want to taste all of you.” Naima shivers at the roughness of his voice. His normal baritone is a lot to deal with but this is downright sinful. He roughly hauls her off her feet into his arms, causing a fresh wave of arousal to flood her panties. 

She busies herself with leaving marks along the column of his neck, loving the way she can feel his gruff moans vibrating against her lips. The smack of Yunho’s hand hitting the wall to steady himself when she grinds her hips against his startles her into.

“Jesus fuck, you’re killing me, baby girl.” Naima smiles mischievously, letting her lips linger on his skin. Something about the pet name he called her makes the heat simmering in her belly grow even hotter. He tosses her on his oversized bed once he collects himself enough to finally make it to his bedroom. She watches him curiously as he turns to dig around in his nightstand. His hand reappears with several foil packets in his grip which he promptly drops onto the mattress for later use. 

Clothes fly haphazardly as Yunho hastily strips them down till nothing but his boxers remain in place. He smirks when he notices Naima’s playful grin drop when she takes in the size of the bulge he’s sporting. His large hands grip her hips, flipping her onto her stomach and rustling her around to a more favorable position. Finally satisfied with the way her face is pressed into the expensive Egyptian cotton of his bed sheets, Yunho buries his face in her dripping cunt from behind. He groans at his first taste of her and her answering whine is nothing but appreciative at the way it vibrates against her.

Naima yelps when Yunho’s large palms suddenly land on her ass with a resounding smack. He soothes the sting with tender caresses against her flesh. His tongue never leaves her entrance as he continues to coax a seemingly endless stream of arousal from her. She has the sheets in a death grip, moving her hips as if to separate herself from Yunho’s lethal tongue but wherever she goes his face simply follows. The slurping sounds of him feasting on her are absolutely obscene but she’s way too far gone to be embarrassed. She doubts that she would be able to form a coherent sentence of protest even if she wasn’t. 

“You’re so fucking wet. I could drown in this pretty pussy.” Naima keens at his filthy words, squirming restlessly as the pleasure builds and builds within her. 

It’s no surprise when she tumbles over the edge with a strangled shout, but she’d expected for him to release her once he’d made her come. Much to her surprise, Yunho doesn’t seem to have any plans of stopping. He tongues her through her orgasm, sucking gently on her clit as he thrusts two fingers into her still spasming entrance. Her knees buckle immediately from the sharp pang of oversensitivity. Yunho pulls his fingers from her long enough to land another harsh smack to her ass while his other holds her hips in place. The discomfort bleeds into pleasure until she’s racing headfirst into a second orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Let go. Give it all to me.” Naima swears she’s on the verge of blacking out when Yunho finally releases her. She collapses against the mattress when he relinquishes his grip on her, trembling from head to toe. His chest is warm against the sweat-slicked skin of her back when he covers his body with his own. He leaves chaste kisses along her shoulder as he loops an arm around her torso.

“Don’t tap out on me now, love. There’s still more fun to be had.” Yunho grinds his cock against her ass, smiling against her skin when he feels her shudder in his hold.

He pulls himself up on his knees, dragging Naima’s tired frame with him. He makes quick work of removing his boxers and rolling on one of the condoms he’d grabbed earlier. She jerks when the head of his latex covered cock bumps against her sensitive clit as he covers himself in the slick still leaking from her cunt. Yunho watches the back of her head like a hawk as he slowly presses himself against her entrance. He swears quite creatively at the way her muscles lock down on him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Yunho!” Naima drops her head to rest on her arms, doing her best to relax. He reaches underneath her to rub circles into her clits and succeeds in pushing forwards a few more inches.

His breath catches in his throat when she pulls her hips before pushing back against him to sink down a little further on his thick length. They work together until he’s finally seated balls deep inside her. Yunho’s eyes roll back in his head at the tight squeeze of her perfect cunt. He’s been inside quite a few women in his day, but this feels almost like uncharted territory. He hisses when she flexes around him involuntarily, tightening even further though he didn’t think that was even possible.

“I’m going to wreck this pussy, baby.” He punctuates his statement by withdrawing till only the tip remains, pushing back in with a purposeful thrust of his hips. Naima nearly chokes on the pitiful whine that claws its way out of her throat. “You’re gonna feel me in here for days.”

To his credit, he tries to keep his pace even and not too fast. He really does. His fingers are probably bruising her skin from how tightly he’s gripping her hips but it’s the only thing keeping him grounded and sane at this point. 

“You call this wrecking me? I could’ve done this at home with my Rabbit.” Naima can admit that Yunho’s dick was a hard pill to swallow at first, but she’s thoroughly adjusted and in need of more. Judging by the way his hips still she’s about to get just what she was aiming for. She gasps when he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her upright so that he can whisper in her ear.

“Didn’t I tell you to watch that pretty little mouth of yours?” He practically growls in her ear as he grinds against her cervix. The pain mixes with the pleasure in a way that’s starting to make her lightheaded. 

“No, you didn’t.” She responds breathily. Her fingernails dig into his thighs painfully but Yunho doesn’t care even a little bit.

“Well, I should’ve.” He shoves her back towards the mattress not giving her even a few seconds to get her bearings before he’s rearing back to slam back into her tight heat. 

She shouts his name, squirming in his iron grip but he shows her no mercy. The time for that has past. Yunho’s hips piston in out of her at a furious pace. His gaze is fixated on the way her pussy creams on his dick with every thrust. His chest rumbles in protest when manages to pull away from him enough for his cock to fall out of her.

“Don’t run from me, Naima. You wanted this dick and now you got it.” She keens at the sound of her real name coming out of his mouth. The way his husky tone wraps around the syllables should be illegal. He fists the sheets next to her head with one hand as he uses the other to reposition her hips to allow him to slide back inside. His legs straddle both of hers, giving him the leverage he needs to fuck her into the mattress.

Naima’s fingernails are leaving crescent shaped marks in Yunho’s wrists as she holds on for dear life. She’s never been so thoroughly fucked in all her life. He’s reaching spots inside her that she didn’t even know existed until now. She’s on the verge of tears when he slows his frantic pace. He lowers himself so that his larger frame dwarfs hers once more. His arms looped under hers to hold her close to him. Yunho resumes his movements, opting for a much more relaxed cadence. The purposeful grind of his hips is just as overwhelming if not more so after the intensity from before.

“This is my pussy now.” Yunho grunts into her ear. He sucks marks into every inch of skin that his lips can reach. “No one will ever fuck you this good. Never fuck you this deep. You’re all mine.”

Naima bites down hard on a pillow that she must have grabbed at some point as she clenches around him hard. It dawns on her vaguely that Yunho hasn’t touched her clit once. She’s about to come from penetration alone. A feat she’s never been able to accomplish. The very Earth feels like it’s opened up beneath her when the orgasm that had been flirting with her senses finally washes over her. She feels him grow impossibly harder inside her as he reaches his own end. Black spots dance across her vision when the throbbing sensation of him filling the condom triggers a smaller, biting orgasm. 

She’s surprised that she manages to stay conscious if only barely. Her surprise only grows when she feels a warm towel gently wiping between her legs. Her shock reaches a fever pitch when Yunho’s fingers start working into her calf muscles. She chooses to stay silent out of fear that he might stop if caught being nice. 

“You done pretending to be asleep? Or did I actually fuck you stupid?” She can practically hear the smile in his voice as his fingers climb higher to her thighs. So much for peacefully enjoying this massage.

“I like you better when you don’t speak.” His amused laughter brings a smile to her own face despite her attempts to tamp it down. She shivers when he places a chaste kiss on the swell of her ass before going back to his ministrations on her legs. Knox is never going to let her hear the end of this once he finds out.

 She’s about to go insane. Naima’s stomach has growled twelve times in as many minutes and if she doesn’t eat something soon there will be fatal consequences. She checks her phone once more to check Knox’s location and nearly cries when it says that he’s arrived at DevTech. Just a few minutes stands between her and hot bacon, egg, and cheese croissant and an extra large caramel macchiato. 

The sight of Knox navigating the sea of cubicles with her breakfast in hand may as well be the second coming of Christ. She throws her arms around her neck the second he steps into her office. He pretends to be disgusted when she pecks him on his cheek repeatedly. Knox takes a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk to talk before he goes back downstairs to work. Their conversation when Yunho suddenly burst through the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Naima is appalled at the way he’s just invited himself into her office without even having the decency to knock first.

“I should be asking you that. I asked you for the Murchison report fifteen minutes ago but I guess you were too busy with your little boy toy here to actually do your fucking job.” Knox stands, mouth fixed to defend her, but she holds up her hand to stop him.

“Knox, can you excuse us please?” Naima says sweetly. Her tone is sweet and even, but there’s a hard edge to it that tells Knox she’ll be able to handle Yunho’s temper tantrum just fine.

Naima wraps her sandwich up as she motions for Yunho to have a seat in the chair Knox has just vacated. She shrugs her shoulders when he refuses, crossing her modest office to lock the door and close the blinds she’d installed.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Jeong? Did you fall and hit your head? How dare you come to my office and insinuate that I’m not doing my job?.” He can tell that she’s working hard to keep from yelling at him but her words feel like a slap in the face either way. 

“Look, I just need the Murchison report so that I can finish some paper-” Naima doesn’t even let him finish his sentence. She has no patience for him and his bullshit.

“Cut the bullshit, Yunho. The Murchison report wouldn’t be useful for anything other than end of year reporting which we are eight months away from so what the fuck do you actually want from me?” She’s seething. DevTech has a super relaxed company culture but HR still wouldn’t take too kindly to her punching another employee in the throat.

“Why didn’t you text me back yesterday?” Naima is taken aback. She remembers receiving a few texts from him on Sunday — how he got her number she doesn’t know — but it wasn’t anything that she felt warranted a response. 

“Why would you want me to?” 

The more they talk, the more Naima realizes that they went into that bedroom with very different ideas of what was going to happen afterwards. She’d intended for it to be a one time thing for him to try and prove her wrong which he’d succeeded in doing. Nothing more, nothing less. Obviously, Yunho had other ideas that went far beyond the four walls of his bedroom. 

“This is new territory for me. I’ve never been jealous over women because I can get a new one in five minutes. I’ve never had a problem in that category.”

“Get to the point, Yunho.” She’s quickly growing bored of this conversation and she’s ready  for it to be over.

“The point is that I want to see where this goes. Are you down for that?”

“No, you’re an asshole.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s true, but I’m cute and I’ll eat you out till you cry so what’s it gonna be?” He looks so hopeful that part of Naima wants to reject him again just to mess with him, but she’s not totally heartless. She decides to make him a deal.

“I’ll give you one week and then we’ll go from there now about this eating out business…” She trails off, looking at him suggestively. 

“Come home with me after work and I’ll give you what you want and more.” The mischievous grin on his face promises another day of limping around and Naima is excited to say the least. 

“You’ve got a deal. Now get out of my office.” She deadpans as she starts to unwrap the breakfast sandwich she hadn’t been able to finish earlier. He catches her off guard when he swoops in to steal a kiss from her lips as his “parting gift”. 

“Later, Ravioli.” 

She touches her fingers to her lips as she watches him walk back to his own office through her open door. It’s going to be an interesting week.

[constablewrites]

In Which I Give Way Too Much Thought to the Sex Lives of Animated Characters

I’ve fallen off the wagon on my weekly posts here, because ::gestures vaguely at 2020:: It isn’t that I haven’t had observations to make, more that I lacked the particular motivation to actually write them up. But there’s one thing that can always drive me to the keyboard: getting nice and annoyed!

Star Wars Rebels is a deeply irritating show, mainly because when it is good, it is truly excellent, but there’s a lot of meh to wade through to reach those moments. It seems to be aimed at a younger audience than Clone Wars, and lacks that show’s advantages of both the well-established characters from the films and its urgent newsreel energy (because who needs Act I when Tom Kane can just yell exposition at you). There are a lot of interesting ideas and setups in Rebels that just never get properly explored, but the one I found most disappointing was the relationship between Kanan and Hera.

(Major spoilers after the cut. Go watch the show, it’s not terribly long and, as I said, the good stuff is really good.)

I was surprised by how much Kanan’s character grabbed me. Maybe it’s because I find the concept--someone who knows he’s unfit to be a mentor but has no choice but to fake his way through--to be highly relatable as an elder millennial, or maybe it’s just that I glom onto protector characters. He has great chemistry with Hera, and I am a shipper of the highest order. So when the final season started focusing on their romance, it should have been catnip for me.

Reader, it was not.

Oh, the interrupted kiss when they’re trying to get out of the city on Lothal is solid ship-tease stuff, to be sure. But then you get to 4x7 “Kindred” (not gonna link a video because I couldn’t find a good one and the damn things always get taken down later anyway). Kanan asks if she’s ever thought about their future together, Hera demurs and says that he knows how she feels. He isn’t so sure, so after a bit of cockblocking from the A-plot, she kisses him for the first time (that we see). The exchange is brief and doesn’t quite fit the established dynamic, but it’s fine.

The problem is, immediately after that kiss, she gets on a ship and leaves for rebel command. The next time Kanan sees her is the rescue mission that kills him. So for the [Babies Ever After] epilogue to make sense, one of these things must be true:

Force ghosts can fuck

They find time during the harrowing escape to sneak away and hook up

Hera is already pregnant when she leaves Lothal

Not only do the first two seem unlikely, but the third point works with most of the rest of the series. A show with such a young audience was probably never going to state outright that two characters are doing it, so they just have to imply it in ways that older viewers will pick up on: Hera calls Kanan “dear” in the very first episode. They talk to each other about things they don’t talk about with the rest of the crew. And Kanan being squirrelly on Ryloth? That isn’t a guy meeting the father of his best friend or even his crush, that is [recognizably] a guy meeting the father of the girl he’s boinking.

I don’t have a problem with a kids’ show not getting into detail about the love lives of its parental figures, and I honestly think more media should feature healthy, established couples. But I feel like the writers realized that they couldn’t show the impact Kanan’s death has on Hera if their relationship is entirely off-screen. So they did finally make it clear that this is a romance--but they did it in a way that makes it seem like the romance started right there at the end, since Hera’s unhappy “We’ve talked about this before” gives the impression that she’s turned him down in the past. And that just doesn’t add up. (Not to mention the sudden ramp-up makes it pretty obvious that one of them is gonna die.)

But this isn’t Fandom Bitching Wednesdays. Was there a way to do it differently?

Potential fix: Cut the kid. Probably the most straightforward, since that’s what creates the out-and-out plot hole Issues: Also the most depressing option. Kanan’s son is the thing that gives him a happy(ish) ending, allowing a part of him to live on beyond just the memories of his friends. Plus, it makes their interactions in the early seasons kinda confusing if they were never supposed to be in a relationship at all.

Potential fix: They were in a relationship but were very private about it and avoided any PDA around the rest of the crew. Conversation plays out more or less the same, but Hera’s reluctance to talk is because she’s aware that the others are watching, and the kiss is significant because she’s choosing not to hide anymore. Issues: My vote for most satisfying option, but would still benefit from a scene or two earlier in the series setting it up. Also means that if you wanted to keep the bit at the fuel depot where Hera tells Kanan she loves him as a big climactic moment, you would definitely need to establish why she’s never said it before. (Especially because she calls him “love” during the evacuation of Chopper Base.) There are plenty of options for this that would fit in with her character--perhaps something about her own parents, or how they’re in a war, or how she just thinks it’s less complicated if no one knows--but you would have to pick one and show it.

Potential fix: They were in a relationship but it wasn’t “serious,” or perhaps was even a strictly friends-with-benefits arrangement. So when Kanan is asking about their future, it’s not a new thing but an escalation, and builds more naturally toward Hera saying she loves him. Issues: This is how I tried to headcanon it initially, because it’s the only thing that makes any of it make sense as-is. And it’s easy to see how Kanan would have initially been happy with that setup (more on that in a second), but less so for Hera, with her pet names and talk of how they’re a family. As above, her reason for putting up that barrier, and for keeping it up this long, would need to be clearly established.

Potential fix: FWB but reverse this scene: Hera is the one who wants more and Kanan is resisting. I mean, come on guys, the “Jedi are forbidden to form attachments” thing was right there. It’s a stupid rule, but you have the opportunity for Kanan to acknowledge it as a stupid rule and reject it. Kanan is also exactly the kind of guy who would try to ride out the loophole of “It’s okay that I’m in love with her if I never say it or call her my girlfriend.” Variant: they were in a typical relationship but Kanan pulled back when he trained with Bendu to control his emotions, so what Hera wants isn’t something new, but rather what they had before. Issues: The dynamic of “girl wants romance, boy can’t express emotions” is pretty played out. The fact that Kanan broaches the topic by asking what would end her involvement with the Rebellion further adds an interesting angle that builds on stuff that’s been brought up before--war is all she’s ever known so she doesn’t shy from it, while he feels like he’s already survived one war and wants to be done with it--and you lose that if she’s the one who raises the question. It also follows that he would then be the one to say “I love you” at the fuel depot, which somewhat dampens the power of his sacrifice to say that for him.

Perhaps the real lesson here is that sometimes there aren’t any perfect solutions to story problems, just a series of trade-offs. This is especially true in a serialized medium, where part of the story might already be out there by the time you realize you would need to make changes to it to properly set up where you want to take it. If you missed the chance to show us a very important conversation, the best you can do might just be to reference that it happened and hope (in vain) that your audience will just roll with it instead of being nitpicky bastards.

And maybe Force ghosts just fuck, I dunno.

[purplesurveys]

1056

survey by katesmarie13 

(Merry Christmas! Or Happy Holidays! Or Happy Friday! <3)

Okay, just a few basics first...THEN the new stuff.

Your full name? I only feel like sharing the name Robyn today.

Your hometown? Manila, kinda. I won’t give away the city I currently reside in.

Age? 22, and a waste of a year it was. I’m so tempted to just turn 22 again in 2021.

Now for something different and completely random...

When you're having a bad day, what comfort food do you reach for? It differs per bad day and it also depends if I can afford to get whatever it is I’m craving. Though for the most part, I’ve found myself pining for samgyupsal the most often. It’s just the ultimate problem-fixer and makes-the-sad-go-away-er.

Do you have an item that is your good luck charm? I don’t really believe in those, so no. The farthest I’ve gone with a certain item and luck is how I insisted to use the same paddle that was available in our gym whenever I trained for table tennis back in high school. The reason I don’t think it has anything to do with luck is because I simply thought I had the best grip with that paddle, not because I was convinced I can win any game with it.

If so, what is it? See paddle situation aboe.

Your favorite thing about your job (or school)? It’s in the media/public relations field so there are lots of freebies and treats that come with the job that make what I do worth it, and a lot more fun. The entire team also consists of Gen Z-ers and younger Millennials, so there are practices we follow that bigger corporations might not have, like longer office shutdowns during Christmas (we don’t get back to work until Jan 4th), reminders to take mental health breaks, and a no-video-meetings rule every Friday afternoon.

Least favorite thing about your job (or school)? It’s very, very hectic so I have the tendency to get overwhelmed as early as 10 AM. There’s never any dead air and I don’t get rest for nine hours straight (my shift is technically eight hours, but I work through the allotted 1-hour lunch break as well). OT is also common, but at least I get paid for it. Demanding clients who micromanage and/or ask for too much work to be done from our end also make the job stressful.

Does global warming and the hole in the ozone truly bother you? Of course. My heart sinks every time I come across a new article saying glaciers are melting, that animals living in polar regions are suffering, that sea ice continues to drastically decrease, etc.

Do you have a "funny" toenail? I don’t think so? All my toenails look...the way they’re supposed to look like, lol.

How many times have you moved in your lifetime? The times I can remember, just twice. But my parents moved around a bit when I was still an infant.

Do you watch professional wrestling and is it real? I do watch and keep up with it, just not as much as I used to. I don’t recognize most of the new faces anymore, and I wouldn’t be able to give you a decent breakdown of the current storylines in any promotion, not even in WWE. The angles, results, belts, and characters all aren’t real, but the movesets (especially the submission holds) risks, and injuries very much are. Are we going to debate this in 2020 still? Lmao.

What's your favorite thing to microwave? Don’t microwaves just heat stuff up? I dunno if it heats a certain food better than others lol.

Could Pop-Tarts survive a nuclear attack? I doubt it.

Does anyone know where the UP (Upper Peninsula) is? Can I give you a different UP? That’s where I went to in college, heh heh.

What's the regular unleaded gas price where you are? I have no idea. I never paid attention. I usually just give the gas attendant anywhere between P300 to P700 and see how far up it would fill my tank.

Do you know someone who's been injured in Iraq? I don’t know. Probably not. None of my relatives who migrated ever signed up for the US military.

Do you remember what a Puff-A-Lump is? I’m pretty positive I’ve never heard of it before.

Least favorite TV show? Game of Thrones.

Favorite canned soup? I don’t consume that.

How far does your belly button stick out or sink in? How can I even measure this?

Do you have a particular coffee mug you drink from? Yes, but I’ve described it so many times in surveys from just this month alone.

What does that mug say/have on it? The first line reads “Seattle, WA” then “Starbucks” in big bold letters, then “Coffee Company” below it, and the last line reads. “Est. 1971.”

Your take on declawing cats? I don’t like cats a lot but this does not sound like a responsible thing to do, and it also sounds like a painful procedure for a poor cat.

Do have smoke detectors in your home? No. That’s not really a requirement or standard practice here.

Would it be easy to erase YOUR identity? I suppose it’s technically easy to hire someone who can do that (a la Breaking Bad), I just would not be willing to do it and give up who I am for anything in the world.

Do you know anyone named Sam? Lots. My cousin is named Sam; I also went to school with multiple Sams.

How many drawers do you have in your room/office? Five.

What was your favorite snuggle toy when you were a child? I was happy with a pillow. I was never into stuffed toys all that much.

Great! A few firsts then...

What was your first pet and their name? I had a goldfish that I simply named Goldy. I vividly remember this because Angela’s first pet was also a goldfish; and there was a time we did show-and-tell in first grade and she bought her pet. We had been bickering that day, as 7 year olds do, and I remember being an absolute asshole and snickering when she introduced her fish as Fishy because I thought it was a cheesy name and that Goldy was far superior. Sorry Fishy. You had a great name.

When your mind wanders, where does it go first? My biggest stressor for the day, usually.

Your first knick-knack (item you placed in your room/house)? I have no clue. I was 10 when we first moved in here, and a completely different person.

First "real" piece of jewlery? (This goes for the guys too) I’m going to forgive this survey for being a little sexist because it’s nearly 15 years old; but anyway, I’ve never had any expensive jewelry of my own. All the pricey ones I’ve ever worn are owned by mom.

What did you do on your first date? We went to a museum and had early dinner at an Italian-American restaurant. We also had coffee after, and then she slept over at my place where I let her play GTA V on our PS3 because she wasn’t allowed to play it in her house.

Who was your first best friend? Kaye. I can’t trace her down now because she has such a common name, but I hope she’s been doing well.

When did you first realize that life isn't easy and fun? I was 12, going through puberty and a generally not-nice time of my life, with everyone in the house hating and isolating me.

And lastly...

The last thing you thought about before you fell asleep last night? I briefly thought about how many hours I need to sleep to get a decent rest, but I passed out in like 10 seconds.

Your last argument? Last night my mom and I had an argument about where I last placed my phone because I had already misplaced it two times prior during the day.

Your last words to someone...? “You’re wearing black; it’s not too obvious” when my mom was complaining that she looked a bit big in her outfit for today.

The last place you'd go? I’m not very sure about the wording here. Do you mean the last place I went to (outside the house to pay for a delivery)? Or the last place I’d want to go to before I die (no clue)? Hahahaha.

The last thing you'd find yourself wearing? Again, not so sure about the grammar here.

What will be the last thing that you do today? Trying to doze off.

[meteor752]

Tilda of Mirkwood

This is the one I’ve been waiting for.

Out of the Bardlings, Tilda is easily my favorite and the one I think about the most, which is why she has a bit more info than the other two. Let’s just get into it.

Tilda was born on the hottest day Laketown had ever experienced since Smaug literally burned their city, so it should have said a lot about the ocean eyed girl.

Tilda quickly became known throughout Laketown as Bard’s troublesome child, that her siblings always could be found chasing after.

The young girl had always been a fan of climbing, and would try to literally climb anything she came across, including people. Her own da was her favorite, and he didn’t mind.

Tilda has always been a lot like her ma, assertive, stubborn, playful, and all over the place. Think five year old Yuki from Wolf Children, but spanning over the majority of her life.

Tilda was too young to remember anything about her ma, so she didn’t feel any sadness about her death, which she was happy about considering how many nights Bain has cried into Sigrid’s arms about her. It did make her feel a bit isolated from her family however, as they had something that she didn’t have.

During the battle of the five armies, this gal was hyped.

When the elves had arrived to help out the men of Dale, she basically bombarded every single one with questions, including the elven king himself.

And when her da and the king eventually fell in love and got married, she didn’t hesitate leaving dale to live in Mirkwood and get trained as an elf.

And I’m not going to talk so much about that, since I already covered that here.

But because of the fact that her da married the king of Mirkwood, it also meant that she was technically a princess of Mirkwood, and she hated that part.

Tilda is not one to just sit still and listen to when people talk. Either she will fall asleep, or she will start to babble about something irrelevant, causing quite a few problems here and there.

Legolas found her hilarious.

She’s not someone who holds her tounge while speaking with people she do not agree with, so more than once has she gotten into an argument with a council member about something, and she’s not one to hold back on the profanities.

Again, Legolas found her hilarious.

When it came to studying she was the same, mostly falling asleep during lessons or just not paying attention at all.

But when it came to more physical stuff, like hand to hand combat, or sword fighting, or archery, she was an expert.

She still stuck to her roots though, and could always be found climbing stuff, because she likes to feel tall.

It got out of hand for a while, as every time she traveled through a forest she would jump between the trees instead of walking on the path.

Because of the fact that she always stayed in Mirkwood and didn’t visit Dale much, she gained a much better relationship with Legolas than she did with her other siblings.

The two bonded over their total lack of self control, their love of nature and their archery skills.

Despite Legolas being her best friend, Tilda has other Elven friends.

There was Aria, the tailor who was a total snob but still kind enough.

Mambar, the soldier who had two daughters but no wife.

Taleki, the pretty much outcast who cuts his hair with a piece of glass so it looks jagged and spiky.

Kamarind, the fisherman that has never been clean in his life.

Vivian, the blind artist who lost her brother.

And Talalia, the kindest, most beautiful and most amazing person in middle earth.

Or, that’s at least what Tilda thinks.

Tilda is, to put it simply, a bit of a slut.

She sleeps around, she flirts with everyone, and she won’t shy to have sex with people of other races. What she’s attracted to changes every day, and she’s quite fluid in her sexuality.

And that applies to everyone except for Talalia.

Talalia is a tall, slender, pale, red haired elf, with soft freckles and a beaming smile. She works with the animals of Mirkwood, like horses, rabbits, elks, cats, and sometimes even spiders.

Tilda met her when she was about fifteen, when she’d found a small injured elk calf, and took it to Talalia for help.

Talalia helped Tilda nurse the small calf back to health, and while doing it they got talking.

Tilda ended up keeping the calf and named it Aloe, and Talalia was more than happy to help her take care of the small little fellow.

Aloe grew up beside Tilda, which made him very attached, and quite spoiled. Tilda often used to say that the only one who could rival the elks ego was Thranduil, so she always made sure not to give him to much praise or it would go to his head. She gave him plenty of treats though.

Anyways, back to Talalia.

Talalia was like Aloe’s other mom, as she was honestly the only other person he was okay with (He totally hated Legolas, always tried to bite his fingers off). She did not hold back on the praise and scratching, and Tilda always grumbled a bit when she did as she knew he would preen like hell the next few weeks.

Tilda didn’t know when she fell in love with Talalia, she just did all of a sudden, and to her own surprise she had a hard time confronting her feelings about it, but she just assumed that it would all work out fine.

It was when she received an invitation to Talalia’s wedding that she realized that it would not work out fine.

Tilda’s biggest personal problem in her life, was that she often felt coddled and felt that no one was taking her seriously.

Sure, she was a bit wild, but she was a master archer, a trained elven soldier, the daughter of a dragon slayer and a king, and one of the best climbers of middle earth, and yet people still one saw her as the family’s annoying youngest sibling.

It didn’t help that Legolas was one of the best archers in middle earth and the heir to the throne of Mirkwood, Sigrid was the queen of Dale and the best healer there was, and Bain was an excellent soldier despite his blindness and captain of the royal guard of Dale.

Meanwhile Tilda was just...okay in comparison. She was a good archer, but not as good as Legolas. She was an okay healer, but Sigrid was better. She had it easy to get along with people, but Bain was a master at it.

She could climb stuff fairly good, but that wasn’t much to boast about.

Plus, because of the fact that she was the youngest, and had a habit of getting herself injured, her family didn’t quite trust her. They didn’t want her leaving Mirkwood without an escort, and she always had to ask for permission, despite being way over an adult.

So when she was given the opportunity to follow Legolas to the council of Elrond, she turned it down just because she didn’t feel like doing something they wanted her to do.

And she regretted it ever since, because if she would have followed then she would have had the chance to really come out of the house and do stuff.

She still got Aloe and rode off when she got a message from Sigrid about coming to Gondor, without telling her da or Ada because they would have stopped her.

It was the feeling of total freedom as she rode to Gondor, that made her want to do this and never stop. Aloe was strong and quick, and only needed to stop a few times for about half an hour, so Tilda managed to arrive before Dale.

It was then that she met the hottest fucking person she’d ever met in her life, and she was just ready to go down on him right then and there.

Unfortunately, he was her brother’s loved one, so she didn’t make any moves on him. Well, she made a few, but it was just some light flirting.

Both Tilda and Aloe made it out fine, thankfully, and Tilda was already planning on letting everything go and just live in the woods with Aloe for the rest of life.

Which she did, after a long argument with both her Da and Ada and her siblings.

Tilda became known throughout small villages in Middle earth as the witch with the elk, despite not being a witch at all. She was just a weird girl with ocean blue eyes, wandering around with her elk and killing beasts that some Villages had problems with.

And one of those beasts was a Forest Dragon that had killed six people of the village, and had stolen a lot of their gold.

And Tilda didn’t even hesitate, she just grabbed the black arrow she stole from her da a long time ago and started to hunt down the dragon.

She didn’t think of The Dragon Curse for the moment, or of the consequences of her actions, she only thought of the idea of becoming a Dragon Slayer, meaning that she would actually be something other than the troublesome younger sibling of the family.

She killed the Forest Dragon, it wasn’t that hard they are pretty meek and doesn’t have too much of a defense, and Tilda didn’t think too much more of it, just that she could now brag about being a dragon slayer.

It was about three days later that she realized exactly what she’d done, in the middle of taking a step as well, so she fell to the frown in shock with a very confused Aloe beside her.

It took a few hours for Tilda to get out of the hole she’d fallen into, as she ended up having a panic attack right then and there, with Aloe just helplessly prancing around her, buffing her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

Tilda then decided to not return to Mirkwood, or Dale, or Gondor, or anything like that, as she was to ashamed of what her pride had lead her to.

Instead, she decided to set out to find other Dragonlings and Dragons, that could teach her of what would happen to her exactly, as it wasn’t really widely known.

The first she went to was of course Moln, the ice dragon in the north that was known to not kill you, as long as you didn’t try to steal from him.

Moln was ancient, with little memory of the past couple millennials, and wasn’t too much help like that, but he did recommend to find a Swamp Dragonling, as they are generally not too agressive or deadly.

It took almost two years for Tilda to find another Dragonling, an at that point scales had already started to form on her hardened neck, and she was getting a bit impatient.

The Dragonling was a former elf named Reskal, that had killed a Swamp Dragon almost a hundred years prior. He told her about the pain of the wing formation, and the behavior differences she would experience, neither of which was something that she looked forward to.

And Reskal was right, around ten years after she’d killed the Forest Dragon she had the worst year of her life, and when her wings were finally out and ready to go, she was practically just skin and bone as it hadn’t been easy to hunt while in constant pain, so the meals had been rare.

Tilda has been forced to send Aloe away, as she feared what she might have done to him if the dragon instincts kicked in.

That turned out to be a mistake in her part, but also probably the best thing she’s ever done in the long run, as Aloe was quickly to run to Gondor to find Legolas.

Aloe didn’t like Legolas at all, anyone who would try to get the attention of his mama away from him was automatically evil, but his mama was in pain and he knew that the mean elf could help her.

When Legolas saw Aloe willingly come up to him, without Tilda by his side, he immediately knew something was up and Aragorn barely had time to follow after him when his husband got on his horse and rode after the elk.

Aloe led the two to a Forest, where they at first couldn’t find Tilda. It was first when she jumped out of a tree, her wings spread out and her teeth and claws barren, that they realized why Aloe had been so stressed.

Tilda had gone into beast mode, and it took a good while for her to fully catch Legolas’ scent and calm down, as he was a part of her treasure and she wouldn’t hurt him.

It took two days for Tilda to come back to her senses, and during that time Legolas and Aragorn managed to piece together what had happened, Tilda had become a Forest Dragon Slayer.

When Tilda had finally calmed down and had returned to her less animal behavior, she was held by her brother as she cried into his arms, scared of what she’d become, and what she might do.

After the two doing their very best to calm her down, which was not easy since Tilda was not one to show any vulnerable emotions so she’s been bottling up shit for years, they helped her up and separated, as Aragorn needed to go back to Gondor while Legolas would follow his sister to Mirkwood.

Legolas tried his very best to get out what had happened out of Tilda on their journey, as she knew the consequences of killing a dragon, and why in Valars name she did it anyway. Tilda didn’t feel like talking however, she just sat on Aloe as he walked, completely trapped in her own mind.

When they arrived at Mirkwood, Legolas took her straight to her da who just a few years prior had gone through his own wing transformation, though as a wyvern they had grown out of his arms instead of his back. Very painful indeed.

Her da was more than shocked when he saw his his daughter with wings growing out of her back, and horns halfway done on her head.

Bard forced Legolas to leave and sat down with his daughter, trying to comfort her while at the same time try to make her explain why she’d killed a dragon.

It took almost half an hour for Tilda to break, and explain that she’d just wanted to be something like her siblings, and that her pride had gotten in her way.

Bard was very comforting, and he told her that he wasn’t angry, just scared for her.

Tilda stayed in Mirkwood for a few years, just to be able to fully calm down and get a grasp of what had happened. She was gifted an enchanted cloak that could hide her wings, horns, and tail, so she wouldn’t get weird or scared looks while outside.

Tilda couldn’t stay in Mirkwood forever though, as she now had gotten a taste of freedom and felt like a caged bird. She grabbed her stuff one night, left a note, and then rode off on Aloe.

And it went okay. She continued to help small villages with their issues, and even taught a few kids how to fight with a sword.

It was during winter, when Tilda and Aloe had wandered through the cold weather for three (stinkin’) days, that she fully snapped, and when she came back to her human form, all that was left of Aloe was a bloody pile of bones and mush.

That day basically only consisted of her crying and throwing up.

The next day a dagger entered her chest, and after 346 years of constant hyperactivity, she finally got to rest.

•

•

•

•

If modern, Tilda would not really have a sexuality, as it’s constantly changing. Instead she would just get a lot of small pride flags from all the sexualities and sew them into a giant flag.

Tilda hater saddles more than anything else, as she found them restricting and uncomfortable. She would never use a saddle when riding Aloe, or reins for that matter, and she would just trust him of where to go.

Legolas made it his life mission after meeting Merry and Pippin to not let them meet Tilda, as he knew that it would be the death of them all.

Tilda absolutely loved Fire, and would always sit in front of it for hours when it was lit. She’s gotten a lot of burn marks because of it.

Despite being a fire lover, her favorite season was winter, as she found the snow so fun.

Tilda and Legolas would always have something to argue about, as siblings do. The most common thing was that one of them stole the other’s hairbrush.

Tilda absolutely loved Rivendell, as they weren’t so strict about what she could and couldn’t do, plus her favorite activity was to annoy Lindir.

Because of her amazing climbing ability and the fact that she never used a saddle unless forced to, she had gained an amazing balance.

AU Masterpost

[robrpatz]

Robert Pattinson new interview in Elle Magazine ( March 2020)

ELLE: You started acting when you were 18 years old, and in 15 years you’ve made 34 movies (and won eight awards…). Why do stay so active? What moves you?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Now I have more fun making movies! The more I learn about how to do things, the more doors it opens to my mind. And the more comfortable you feel, the freer you’ll feel as well. I used to think in acting as a test, in which there was the possibility to fail. But when you stop thinking about the result…You never know if it will be good or bad, so the best thing is to enjoy it! And, as soon as you start behaving like that, everything becomes funnier.

ELLE: And, as you get older, maybe you can choose the roles you want to play and who you want to work with?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Yes. It happens when you get older and [you] do more projects. You can talk to the director. It’s more of creative collaboration. When you’re younger, you have that school mentality. Someone is telling you what to do and so you just feel like saying no all the time. But then you realize that they are all in the same boat. And that everyone wants to make a good movie!

ELLE: What would you say to the teachers who discouraged you from joining the theater club?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I’m glad they did. When I think about it now … At the time, I was so angry that I didn’t want to have anything to do with the arts at school. And then, I ended up getting an agent, which wouldn’t have happened if I had een a part of the school’s drama club. Sometimes having a little bit of resentment is pretty good. It gives you more fire [energy].”

ELLE: Do you really think that you managed to attract a more “male” audience, as some professionals in the field suggested after Cosmopolis?

ROBERT PATTINSON: To be honest, I never thought about an audience. But the first time I noticed that men accepted me better must have been with Good Time. And it was a little strange … But, again, it’s the same logic as the drama teacher. I liked it when the male audience said to me “Oh, you’re an idiot”, because it made me want to go to the fight! These things give you energy. What’s dangerous is not having enemies. We always need good enemy!

ELLE: Do you read reviews about you on the internet?

ROBERT PATTINSON: When a movie comes out? Yes.

ELLE: What about the bad ones, does it affect you or do you consider yourself strong enough to deal with it?

ROBERT PATTINSON: When I was younger, it affected me. But now … it’s a strangely addictive thing. Reading the bad reviews is more addictive than reading the good ones. You can read a hundred good ones and a bad and, I don’t know if that’s because of that, but now the bad ones don’t affect me anymore. Unless they involve someone else. If it’s just about me, I can take it.

ELLE: What if it’s about someone important to you?

ROBERT PATTINSON: It doesn’t happen much. And I think I can separate things well. It’s one of the advantages of not having an Instagram account. Access is cut off. I’ve always had a barrier and that’s why there’s no problem. It’s all just noise.

ELLE: You’re turning 34 soon and you’re going to be a part of the so-called Millennial. What does it mean to you? Do you recognize yourself as a member of that generation?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I think I’m another last stronghold of the previous generation. I don’t feel like a Millennial at all. Many of the things that people think are important, such as social networks … are not at all important to me. They annoy me. I don’t see what it is the reason to have, to publish, to take pictures of myself and put them online … It all seems crazy to me.

ELLE: You’ve made a lot of movies lately. Waiting for the Barbarians, The King (Netflix), The Devil All The Time, The Lighthouse and Tenet (currently being shot). How many scripts do you receive per month? It’s you who choose each role?

ROBERT PATTINSON: To be honest, I don’t receive that many scripts. Except when it comes to a director I really want to work with. When I’m not working, I read a lot of scripts, but right now… I find it very difficult to read a script when you’re working on another project. I cannot understand it completely. But I love to discover filmmakers that my agents don’t know about!

ELLE: And the movie you’re filming now, Tenet? Can you talk about it?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I can’t say anything about Tenet… nor about Batman! Anyways, I don’t know anything. I’m only starting Batman next year. We’re not even filming yet.

ELLE: After all the artistic films you’ve made, was it difficult for you to decide to be in a film like Batman?

ROBERT PATTINSON: No, I wanted to do it. In every new job, I’ve been trying to do the opposite of the previous one, to be able to surprise myself. And I don’t know why, but at the end of last year, I was thinking I really wanted to do a big movie. I hadn’t think about exactly what it could be, and then Chris Nolan and Tenet came in and Batman came out shortly after. I had been making small movies, I was already relatively comfortable in what I was doing for a while, I didn’t even get nervous anymore. Not even with Tenet, which is a great production. I think it was also because of the directors. I can totally trust Chris Nolan and Matt Reeves. They are very unique filmmakers to whom I would immediately say yes if I wanted to make a smaller film.

ELLE: Do you have to physically prepare to step into Batman’s shoes? Is that the reason why you’ve been running a lot lately?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Yes. As soon as I finish this job, I will immediately start intensive training. In fact, it is quite pleasant, because I have been doing so many hours in the Chris Nolan film that the idea of, for a few months, being really healthy, just doing physical exercise and sleeping seems like a real dream! I can’t wait! But yes, I’ve never been a big guy. So I have a certain curiosity about what it’s like to be.

ELLE: You’re the face of Dior Homme since five years ago. How did this colaboration started and what does it means to you?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I think it was before that. I met them in 2012. I wasn’t thinking about doing anything like this. But when I met them, I liked the team very much, the three people who talked to me at the beginning. They’re really cool. And Dior is Dior!

ELLE: That was your first ad? Is it the only one until now?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Yes. The only one! Basically, I really liked the way they presented the project to me. At the beginning, I wanted to work with Romain Gavras. And, at the first meeting, I asked: “Can we do it with Romain?” And they said “Yes, it’s a great idea!”. It’s great to work with Dior. I never went to the shows in Paris before, and I never even thought about it. But now I look forward to them every year. With Dior, I have all the glamor of acting, but without the hardest part! When you’re making a movie, you work 20 hours a day, you’re exhausted all the time. This collaboration is fast and very funny. It’s the best job ever!

ELLE: Do you like to discover underground artists? How was it to shoot the new Dior Homme campaign with the french avant-guard duo, The Blaze (Guillaume and Jonathan Alrie)? Have you met them before?

ROBERT PATTINSON: It was great! I met them in Cannes in 2017* (they were DJs at the Good Time party) and I was talking to them about making a movie together because their films are so cool. They know what performance is. And when it came to Dior, I didn’t even have anything to do with it. When I heard it, I thought, “Oh, this is great, because it’s a big ad, and they are quite unknown. something like that! Their music is great.

ELLE: There is a dance moment in the ad. It seems to be “possessed”. Any preparation?

ROBERT PATTINSON: A shot of tequila and nothing else! I was literally in the dark. I couldn’t see anyone around me.

ELLE: Do you like dancing, in real life?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I was always very shy to dance, so when I did that, my thought was,”Oh, I broke the curse. Now I can dance in front of people!” About two weeks later, I went to a party, everyone was dancing and I threw myself on the dance floor and it was like “Yes, it’s okay. You just have to dance!”

ELLE: How do you feel when you see yourself in a Dior outdoor?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Actually, I’ve never seen any! I’m always walking around airports and thinking,“ How is Johnny Deep’s here and not mine?” It’s always Johnny Depp! [Laughs] ” What beauty care do you have? A diet, a routine? “Yes, now, at 30, I really think about what I eat. I didn’t try very hard, I ate pizza at three in the morning, but… if you don’t eat well – especially when you’re always working – you can’t even survive.

ELLE: What’s the best way to turn off and relax?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Probably, running. As soon as you get used to running, I think it’s better than anything else. It clears the mind so much! But what I really like nowadays is finding ways to sleep better. I’m obsessed with sleep masks, meditation apps, essential oils… I LOVE those things!

ELLE: Do you have any sleep disorder?

ROBERT PATTINSON: A bit. I don’t take pills to sleep. But I love that moment when you fall asleep! So, I got a good sleep mask that helps me fall asleep anywhere. On set, I sit on a chair, put the sleep mask and fall asleep quickly … in front of everyone.

ELLE: Are you narcoleptic?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Maybe! [Laughs]

ELLE: And talking about music, what’s on your playlist?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I’ll see … (opens Spotify on his phone) … what have I been listening to … Oh [Message on the screen] … I didn’t pay my last bill … [Laughs] … changing my credit card … I’ve been hear a lot of Aretha Franklin and that sort of classic stuff. When I can!

ELLE: How would you define your style?

ROBERT PATTINSON: It depends. You know what? There is this thing about sneakers. I use these Adidas from a collaboration with Palace, which were made in 2015. They are no longer produced. And I use different pairs… I have about 20 pairs of these sneakers in all colors and I use them every day! And when some go bad, it’s scary, because there are only a few left. I already called the company to see if they had any extra stock they didn’t sell.

ELLE: Are you a kind maniac?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Yes, with these shoes. I wear the same pair of shoes for five weeks in a row, and I have an alert on eBay. Whenever my size appears, I buy it immediately!

ELLE: Today you’re fully dressed in black, but we’ve already seen you wearing extravagant clothes on the red carpet such as capes.

ROBERT PATTINSON: I didn’t think much about what I’m wearing today, but I like to wear crazy things, and I think that if I didn’t work with Dior, I would be a little more shy about using more extravagant pieces. With the collection created by Kim Jones, now it makes even more sense (Note: Pattinson was also the first Dior Homme ready-to-wear ambassador).

ELLE: Would you wear a colour such as pink?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Yes, I like the contrast, although a few year ago, when I shaved my hair, wore a lot more pink. When you have you hair dyed blond, long, seems like you’re in Miami Vice. But yes, if I had my hair shaved, I’d definitely wear skirts and stuff like that.

ELLE: What would you never wear?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Hum… I don’t like serious and perfect things. But I’ll probably wear then at some point of my career.

ELLE: You confessed ELLE that you obsessed with Kate Moss and Jane Fonda when you were young. Have you met them?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I met Kate Moss and was with her a couple of times, doing things for Dior. And I haven’t met Jane Fonda yet, but I’m still a huge fan of her.

ELLE: She is an activist like you, Robert. You are collaborating directly with GO Campaign. What does this NGO do?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Go Campaign improves the lives of orphans and vulnerable children worldwide by creating local partnerships and solutions. All the children have the right to have opportunities, education, medical care, food, water… Two of my friends worked for them and told me to go to an event, five years ago or so. They made an auction and built a school in Cambodja. It is a completely transparent and very efficient non-profit organization. Over the past five years, it has become much bigger than it was when I started working with them.

ELLE: And now there’s a Robert Pattinson School?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Yes! And the school has been growing every year. I’m really proud of it.

ELLE: What keeps you alive and motivated in general?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Actually, I only do things to have fun. Your body tells you how to live your life if you listen to it carefully. There were bad times. I watched Amy Winehouse’ documentary a few years ago. And Tony Bennett said something that touched me, “Life shows how to live, if you live enough”, or something like that, I can’t remember the exact quote. As you get older, the more your body tells what to eat, what to do, tells you everything. If you listen to it and pay attention! And if you’re not having fun doing a certain thing, stop. As soon as you start living like that, you start to feel always well.

ELLE: Where do you see yourself in ten years?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I would love to have a production company. There’s a part of me that would like to record an album- but I don’t know if it will ever happen. I like to make long-term plans. That is the key of happiness. That’s it and having plans for the future – everything you build is towards a goal. And you have to have those plans!”

ELLE: What was the strangest thing that happened to you?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Become an actor! The strangest thing in my entire life! I really don’t know how it happened.

ELLE: What do you like the most about your friends?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Positive attitude. I don’t like people who like to complain. It’s really boring.

ELLE: Your biggest flaw?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Pfff, none [Laugh]. Actually, how do you say it? Procrastinate. I postpone everything, really everything, until the last minute.

ELLE: Your idea of happiness?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Being in very creative places. I’m very happy in the initial stage of the work of a creative project before the problems start. When everyone is very excited.

ELLE: Your idea of unhappiness?

ROBERT PATTINSON: When people that I love are worried about something and I can’t help them. And repetitive things. Like being stuck in a circle with the same things always happening. That’s unhappiness to me. Like in that Bill Murray’s movie, Groundhog Day.

ELLE: If you weren’t Robert Pattinson, who would you like to be?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Probably a dog. I think I’ll be one in my next like, almost certainly.

ELLE: The heroes of you’re life?

ROBERT PATTINSON: As I get older, the more my parents are. But when I was younger, were a lot of rappers. They were the first people I saw who didn’t care about what people would think about them. It looked like they were showing the middle finger to everyone.

ELLE: Favourite cult movie?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Probably Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

ELLE: Favourite series?

ROBERT PATTINSON: The Wire. It is a tv series about a policeman and criminals in Baltimore.

ELLE: A director that you admire?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Claire Denis. I admire her a lot.

ELLE: Favourite book?

ROBERT PATTINSON: I’ve been reading a lot of Batman comics lately. I’ve also read a very good book by Christopher Hitchens called Mortality.

ELLE: Favourite dish?

ROBERT PATTINSON: Any type of pasta. I’m really boring when it comes to food. Maybe Spaghetti bolognese. More pasta than burgers.

ELLE: Ideal holidays?

ROBERT PATTINSON: An extreme or the other. Doing something with lots of activities, like climbing or going to the beach and do absolutely nothing, with no one around me.