#because it means that you’ve decided queerness is a special thing that has to be earned by being cool enough.

[quietwingsinthesky]

I just personally think that if you decide a character should be heterosexual or cisgender because you think they’re boring or you want to use it as an insult against them, you are probably not a very nice person.

[stardustizuku]

PART 2: What is Cinderella?

So, what exactly do I mean when I say “All Girl Dream of Cinderella”?

“Cinderella”, huh.

That’s obviously going to get some eyebrows raised. Because while, yes, Cinderella is a very popular story, it still very much is a western one, isn’t it? Why the universality of “every girl dreams of Cinderella?” How can I be so sure of “all girls”.

For starters, I’m not literally talking about the 1950 Disney’s Cinderella.

I’m more so using Cinderella as a signifier. A symbol. Something a bit bigger than Disney.

Truth is, there’s thousands of variants of the folk tale, which expand all over the world. Cinderella just happens to be the French variant.

But it exists in other countries outside of Europe: The Tale of Ye Xian, is Chinese; Tám and Cám, is Vietnamese - with the only noticeable difference being a goldfish instead of a fairy godmother and golden shoes instead of glass slippers. Korea has Kongjwi and Patjwi, which curiously enough, extends after marriage. The Iranian versions is called Moon-Forehead. The fairy tale has an extensive history and it expands far beyond western ideals. It exists in fairly different contexts.

So, I’m not literally talking about Cinderella, the Disney Movie.

I’m talking about the idea of Cinderella. What it represents.

At its core, Cinderella represents the idea of “something rightfully yours to have, being taken from you [Cinderella had a good life until her dad died], having to endure a lot of pain, but because you endured it gracefully, you gain the affection of others [enduring the abuse gets you help from animals and your fairy godmother], and because you’re such a good person you get a happily ever after [the prince]”.

If you switch around the parts and increment things here and there, you’ll find that most, if not all, cultures have something similar. For good reason.

It’s the idea that, even if something you have is taken from you, the universe will help you set everything in place. It’s the idea that good people succeed, and bad people suffer. It’s a good children’s story, that’s why you see it everywhere. The good will triumph over evil; you will get your happy ending.

But what happens when you grow up? Well, you start questioning the world, obviously.

You become a teenager.

You get sick and tired of Cinderella. I mean, who gets to decide what is good or bad? Why is my dream a man? Can’t I be an imperfect bad and messy girl, and still find a happy ending?

You’re exploring the world, so what’s the point of staying trapped in a story where the prize is a man? What’s the point of dreaming of princesses and castles, when there’s a city right outside your door?

So, you do what all teenagers do. You expand your horizons. You look at more nuanced material, you indulge in stories without happy endings, and maybe you experience some yourself. You face the world, you get heart broken, and its-

Exhausting. The world is chaotic, it’s confusing, and you’re suddenly not a wild and reckless as you were at thirteen.

You are tired.

You’ve seen pain, you’ve gotten hurt, you’ve fought, and you’ve bled, and everything is too much.

YET. You still want a happy ending.

And suddenly, you get Cinderella.

The exact same premise of, “your life was good, now it isn’t. But it should. And the universe will make sure you get a happy ending”.

But now, it hit harder. It’s much more real.

And before long, you indulge in it.

Cinderella is just that. The idea (and illusion) that there’s a clear right and wrong, a good and an evil. And, someday, the universe will reward you for being “good” by putting everything in its place.

That’s how stories like this become popular. Specially with older women and teenagers going through a rough patch in their life.

And while I say Cinderella in a very cishet view, there obviously are queer variants. (Trust me, there are plenty BL and GL Cinderella variants, but that’s an entirely different genre so we’ll put it aside for now). The flavor doesn’t really matter here. But the idea that “everything made wrong, will be put right in the end”.

It’s self indulgence, in its most raw form.

That’s why all girls dream of Cinderella.

It’s not that they dream of this Cinderella.

But they do dream about what it represents.

They dream about their rags turning into dresses. Maybe not literal dresses. But they do dream that they’ll look in the mirror and love what they see.

Maybe they don’t dream about a night at a ball, but they dream of night where they can go out and enjoy themselves. Maybe a nightclub, maybe a concert, maybe a bar, or even just an outing with a group of friends where they let loose.

And maybe they don’t dream of a Prince Charming - but they dream of love. Maybe they dream of companionship. Or the financial stability that comes with it. Or maybe they just dream of having an ending where everything feels right.

Every Girl Dreams of Cinderella - doesn’t mean every girl dreams of a cishet wedding; but they dream of a happy ever after where everything feels right. Whatever shape that takes.

Villainess stories, or in general Isekai shoujo and romance novels, are exactly that. A happy ever after, where everything works how it’s supposed to work. It functions in the way that you, as an AFAB person, were taught as a kid that the world works. Where there’s a prince, where there’s a wedding, and where there’s a dress.

While people write the story, I think it’s important to analyze what that story says. What is exactly that “dream” that was sold to us? And what does it mean that we dream of it as adult women, (and sometimes not even women, or women who like princes anymore)? That what Media is for. What is it that we find comfort in, why, and what does it say about us?

That said.

I find most disappointing, when people with the empathy of a straight white man start to talk about it this genre with contempt. Specially, romance literature aimed at older women.

Because while literature can risky, a point and deep and deconstructive - sometimes that’s not what the audience wants, or even needs.

Sometimes, tired women, want to be able to read stories where the obviously good girl wins, and the obviously bad one loses. Where a big strong man takes all your problems away, and you have the fantasy promised to you since you were a kid. Where, you get to sit back, relax and read about how the wold is okay. It’s right. About how things are working they should.

Men get a chance to do that with blockbuster movies, why can’t women have that too?

Are there things to criticize about them? Yes. That’s partially what I’m here to do.

But you also need to do this with compassion and understanding.

This is not a multimillion dollar film, so you (and I have to stress this with permanent market) CANNOT, approach them with the same cynicism you would a video essay about how the transforms franchise is sexist crap.

In normal life, no one will bat an eye about a guy liking the Fast and Furious franchise. But a woman liking Fifty Shades of Grey, or any of those raunchy pulp novels they sell at a discount bin in Barnes and Nobles - is very much mocked. Made fun of. And the same goes for shitty villainess webcomics and novels. Even a teenager liking shitty romance novels.

I mean, just look at the way people treat Twilight, Colleen Hoover books, heck, even Ali Hazelwood’s books are mocked sometimes. And if you turn to see the contempt many have for women publishing they Reylo Fanfic that, in no way affects others, it’s very obvious the scrutiny through which romance novels are put through - even when they’re meant to be thoughtless self-fulfilling fantasies.

For some reason, there’s this expectation that women have to have the moral high ground. All they consume must be perfect. Not raise eyebrows, not be provocative, and definitely not controversial. While men get to ogle at Megan Fox on 4K at a booked-out theater.

It is not an even playing field.

And you have to acknowledge it, before doing any sort of analysis.

Because the literature that women like, is always considered a lesser form of art (sometimes even compared to world war 1, in case you think I forgot about Twilight), the same criticism said, will have a different impact.

If someone points out that Sixteen Candles is kinda creepy, everyone ignores it. If someone points out Twilight is creepy, it causes media to run a hate campaign against teens who like it.

So, I wanted to make that clear.

While what I will talk about in the next few chapters is important, always bear in mind that: It’s not exclusive to the genre, and not a problem only women have to solve.

It’s also important to recognize that individual authors may not even be aware of what they create comes across. Not to say that they’re all completely blameless, but that the fault sometimes lies less in the individual and more so on the broader trends that permeate literature. Which, in turn, are a reflection of our societal expectations and constructs.

In a more digestible example: A single author writing about how the evil character is ugly, may not be bad. But if multiple authors start doing it, it may mean that we, as a society, apply moral values to beauty. And that must be examined. It’s also important to recognize what exactly makes this character “ugly”, and if that’s born out of our standards of beauty, hidden racism or ableism, and what can we do about it? How will you change based on that information?

It doesn’t mean that the author has any moral failing. They’re telling a story. But it’s our job as literature analysts, to decode what that says about us. As a society. And what it means that it became so popular.

I have this disclaimer because we will inevitably confront the ugly side of this analysis. And I have seen people get very weird about them. Rather point fingers about what author is or isn’t racist, or if their work is or isn’t sexist - to me is far more productive to look at it and ask: Hey, if this is popular, what does it say about us? Why do I like it? What ugly truth am I looking at, in this mirror I’m holding?

I do not wish to appoint moral value in what I’m looking at. Not right now. Because if you do, you throw everything into the garbage and say “it’s bad”, “it’s problematic”, or “it’s gross”. It limits your scope.

The scope I want is not to tell you, “this is good” or “this is bad”. I want to discuss the way that certain tropes originated, what this “Dream of Cinderella” means, and how it can potentially impacts us when we read it.

So, to start talking about this “Dream of Cinderella”, first we have to ask:

Well, who is Cinderella?

PREV << MASTERLIST >> NEXT

[aristocratic-otter]

Thank you, @cutestkilla, @nausikaaa, @that-disabled-princess, @youarenevertooold, @fatalfangirl and @whatevertheweather for the tags!

So, once again, no snippets from Saving Simon Snow or The Heart in the Well (still reviewing them to figure out where I want to go), but I've got double chunks of TikTok Dancer and Stars, Flowers, and Children for you (and a normal sized slice of Snow Fox. The next chapter is so close to being ready for posting!).

Then there's COBB and Erotic Gropefest coming. I've got my idea for COBB, and I've already outlined a fic for EG. Big hint...it was one of the unfinished fics I teased in a 'what are your WIPs' last year. And the one I got the most feedback saying people wanted me to write it! I reviewed my fic ideas folder and decided this one is perfect for EG.

And, I've got a question. I've got more than enough content on both TikTok Dancer and Stars, Flowers, and Children, and I know where I'm going on what's left for each, so I'll likely start posting one of them soon. Feel free to leave your vote on which one in the tags, and I'll consider it!

With no further ado, here's 12 sentences from TikTok Dancer

I frown. Surely a troop of dancers on Santa Monica pier isn’t that extraordinary. “Why wouldn’t I believe it?” I ask.

Dev’s hardly listening to me. “I mean, I knew that there was a chance we’d see celebrities in LA. I mean, this is a celebrity breeding ground, right? But right in front of our hotel? And we get to see them filming?” He turns to me as if expecting me to enthusiastically agree with him. I’m beginning to understand that I’m missing some context here.

“What celebrities?” I ask weakly. 

Dev and Niall both freeze, goggling at me in disbelief. This time, Niall recovers first. “You mean you’ve been watching them through the window and didn’t recognise Simon Snow, Agatha Wellbelove and Shepard Love?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Those sound like made-up names.”

Some young Baz yearning, from Stars, Flowers, and Children:

It’s in our fifteenth year that we both finally have growth spurts. Simon’s indignant that, even after he grows several inches, I’m still taller than him by at least three inches. But, not that I’ve got anything but memory to judge by, but I think we’re both man-high. 

But height isn’t the only thing that changes about Simon Snow. I wish it was. 

But no, Simon has now grown from the freckled street urchin with shorn hair that I first saw on board the SS Watford to a full-grown man, with everything that goes with that. He’s powerfully muscular because of all his building work, and his skin is burnished gold from hours in the sun. His bronze hair is grown out into ringlets that are also kissed by the sun. And all the stars of the universe are scattered across his skin in a host of golden-brown freckles and moles. 

Even his blue eyes, though they’re nothing special when it comes to colour, are such a contrast to his sun-darkened skin that they stand out from his face with a lambent light.

From Snow Fox (the smut is done, I just have to get Baz out of the sticky situation I've put him in).

Tarleton is a horrific bore. The arse only talks about himself–his achievements, his family background, his personal wealth. He hasn’t asked a single thing about me this entire time. When our steaks are dropped in front of us by a bellicose server, I’m grateful for a chance to look at something other than his insipid face. I eat slowly, delicately. I don’t want to get to the part of this ‘date’ where Tarleton suggests we retire to a paid room in the local hotel. 

Tags and encouraging pats on the back to the friends above (we'll make it through January) and to:

@artsyunderstudy, @angelsfalling16, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @best--dress, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @captain-aralias, @confused-bi-queer, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @skee3000, @frjsti, @facewithoutheart, @gekkoinapeartree, @giishu, @hushed-chorus, @ileadacharmedlife, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @j-nipper-95, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @messofthejess, @martsonmars, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @nightimedreamersghost, @raenestee, @rimeswithpurple, @shrekgogurt, @stardustasincocaine, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[spuffybot]

I put this together for my friends but thought some of you might enjoy!


Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin
This book will make you want to vomit but I promise you won’t be able to put it down. Following a pandemic that turns anyone with too much testosterone into a raging, murderous cannibal, two trans women try to get by amid depleting sources of hormones, a rising terf army, and the usual post apocalyptic problems. This book is witty, gruesome, and thought provoking. I loved every repulsive second. Felker-Martin is a clever writer with a knack for horror and her observations about humanity and the current state of gender politics are cutting.

Hell Followed with Us by Andrew Joseph White
I seem to have read a lot of queer pandemic horror this year but luckily for me it’s all been stellar. This expertly written YA post apocalyptic nightmare explores a world where religious extremists have decided the only way to save the planet and fulfill gods will is to wipe out the human race. The virus they unleash turns everyone it infects into a grotesque monster, one I won’t describe because you should read the book and also I don’t want to be blamed for making anyone sick. Benji is on the run from the cult responsible for the virus because they’ve selected him for a special mission he isn’t sure he wants to complete. When he stumbles upon a rag tag band of survivors hiding out at the local LGBTQIA+ Center he is forced to decide who he wants to be. I loved this book so much. YA is a tricky genre but this book managed to lean into the hallmarks while also being challenging and thought provoking. It’s also EXTREMELY gory. 

Maurice by E.M Forster
Despite thinking A Room with A View is an absolute classic, I had no idea this novel existed. Written in 1914, Maurice is about a young well off man who grapples with his sexuality and place in society. The book wasn’t actually published until 1971 because Forster feared it would damage his career. For much of the time it existed, novels that ended well for gay characters were prohibited. The Price of Salt gets a lot of recognition for similar reasons and if you’ve read that, I highly recommend reading this! This book is beautiful and flawed and a must read for anyone interested in queer lit and queer history. 

Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen
Honestly if you read anything in 2023 please read this book. Wow. This is one of those books that has the potential to unlock something in your brain and change your worldview for the better. I’d never given much thought to asexuality. Plenty of people question their sexual identity, with more young people than ever before openly rejecting heterosexuality in favor of things that feel more authentic to who they are. Less people question sexuality in general. If you’ve never felt confused about whether or not you are interested in sex, why would you? This book invites all of us to question the things we’ve been taught about sexuality: about what consent really means, what being sexual means for you as an individual, and how society has shaped our expectations around sex in relationships. Author Angela Chen does an excellent job of exposing our preconceived notions about sex and breaking down what’s truly innate versus what we’ve been taught to be true. This is absolutely a book I would recommend to everyone.


Girlhood by Melissa Febos

I lied, if you read any book in 2023, let it be this one. Idk maybe just read all of these books. How about that? elissa Febos' powerful memoir / dissection of female adolescence under the patriarchy is genuinely essential reading. It’s beautifully written, seamlessly blending complex theory with personal narrative in a way that makes convoluted subjects effortlessly readable. I suggest taking your time with this one and really sitting with some of the things she talks about. I found this book relatable, triggering, and eye opening. Febos analyzes how being sexualized transformed the way she moved through the world. The freedom and fearlessness she experienced growing up was forever changed when the world went from viewing her as a child to viewing her as a girl. Her chapters on consent are revolutionary and will change the way you think about a lifetime of sexual and non sexual encounters. This is the kind of book that opens your mind to new ideas and new ways of coping with your experiences.

[talenlee]

Gaylors, Apes, Qanon And That Person You Hate

Sometimes when I’m talking with people about the weird kind of behaviours of cults, I try to draw comparisons to things in the real world they might be familiar with. Then it turns out that actually, most people aren’t familiar with these things either because the people I explain these ideas to are typically not brain-poisoned terminally online gigaweirdoes who research online cult behaviour.

When I use the word ‘cult’ in this context, I am referring specifically to the notion of a community that has:

Claims of special revelation

Tightly patrolled social boundaries

A self-enforcing resistance to correction

I won’t go too deep into these three traits, but suffice to say anyone who’s going to try and @ me about using this term when it’s used to persecute I dunno, the Shakers, I will politely tell you to fuck all the way off to the moon. But you might notice my definition doesn’t require any kind of religious or spiritual definition, and I consider that important. Cults can form around all sorts of things, and while charismatic leaders who want to fuck their flock are an obvious lightning rod for attention, there are other ways cults can form. Sometimes, they can form around people who not only don’t know who they are, but want nothing to do with them.

Let’s start with a simple one that’s borne out of what feels like a specialised kind of internet wishful thinking, but is reasonably harmless when you set aside the actual homophobia involved. Gaylors are a community of people who believe that the billionaire pop star and most successful mid artist in the history of successful mid artists, Taylor Swift, is secretly a big ole queer, and she’s being kept from expressing herself by her wealthy handlers.

The rationale for this is through secret readings of her lyrics. It involves taking the text of a bunch of songs and then interpreting them as being about something much deeper and more intricate than they are. This seems to me to be a very natural impulse because broadly speaking Taylor Swift seems to produce songs that are as complex as I Heart You while all filtered through the persona of the most thin-skinned petty white girl you’ve ever met. Consider off her recent album:

You wouldn’t last an hour In the asylum where they raised me

Consider: Taylor Swift grew up on a Christmas Tree farm, which she described as ‘the most magical childhood.’ This isn’t about how she was raised. This is probably her describing the attention she gets and how hard it is to be the most successful artist in the world and also a billionaire. To which I say: You can fucking stop any time, Taylor.

But what if you like Taylor Swift’s perfectly tolerable music and don’t like feeling like you have the tastes of a part-time mall hairdresser? Well, you do what any other overly-invested dork does when they realise they have to share common space in media with people they disdain, and you invent wild and elaborate theories about how it’s actually deeper than that, mom, and those fans don’t get it.

To this, we have a community who recognise the social cachet of liking queer art who then decide if you don’t have interesting queer art from outsider creators, why not just pretend the stuff you already liked was actually secretly queer art! These people then spend their time combing over lyrics to share with one another the hypothetical hope that they’re dealing with an incredibly interesting person who sends them cryptic messages rather than… that.

This is an example of this kind of information cult that is, in my opinion, largely harmless except in the way that they are people being assholes about their fandom in common spaces. They are absolutely engaging in a self-confirming group delusion; I think when Taylor Swift tells you to stop speculating about her sexuality, and you respond with ‘what she really means is,’ you’re absolutely just being a dickhead and anyone not already heavily invested in the secret communal truth can tell.

Anyway, onto people who are ruining their family’s lives.

In January 2021, a Stock Market Thingy happened. There are documentaries, explainers, guides and at least one major movie about it, and the actual thing that happened is something you can spend a lot of time learning about and shouldn’t fucking bother with. It’s as complicated as you want to discover but the core of what it is is that if you invested before January 2021, you could have made a lot of money, if you got out before the money machine broke. That’s usually where the story ends, where get a load of this, a lot of normal people who aren’t The Stock Market Boys successfully did a stock market thing, hooray, capitalism has successes in it, and maybe things are great.

Anyway, a lot of those people who we talk about as having successfully manipulated the stock market didn’t, and instead were left, after the point where they could make money, as now merely ‘investors’ in a company called Gamestop that isn’t very good and isn’t going to make much money. And these people have, collectively, decided with a lot of Reddit style ‘positive vibes only’ as expressed by the kind of ‘I love science’ brain ding dongs, that in fact, that wasn’t even the real thing and the real thing is going to happen later. Any day now.

What results from this is that now there is a community of extremely hostile weirdoes who are convinced that if they just keep buying Gamestop shares, no matter what, that they are going to wind up becoming rich on the scale of the downfall of the entire economic system of the United States and maybe the world. I use the term ‘GME Apes’ for these people, because they use monkey imagery and it relates to the stock code for gamestop. They use other terms for one another that I don’t want to repeat in common conversation.

It is a cult complete with its insular secret revelation, its own socially patrolled boundaries, and its own rituals that reinforce that behaviour. And while with the Gaylors, they’re mostly being annoying on lyrics meanings sites and social media, this is people spending money, money from their jobs and family, to prop up the stock price of a company that not only doesn’t care about them but will never reward them for their hopeful behaviour.

You can go your entire life without interacting with these people. But if you work at say, a Gamestop, there’s a nonzero chance you’ve had someone walk into the business to lecture you about it. The thing that really concerns me are the members of this community who keep it hidden from their families and spend shared funds. And also there’s the way that this cult is compatible with other conspiracy cults that tend to wind up just straight up mainlining antisemitism.

Oh hi Qanon, what are you doing here?

The Qanon movement is a legitimate component of modern American political discourse that serves to manufacture and test-bed ideas that can then be laundered into ‘common wisdom’ that other more mainstream sources then repeat. Sometimes it’s old news, sometimes it’s new things – they’re responsible for catapulting ‘adrenochrome’ into the common dictionary, for example.

The idea at the heart of Qanon is this: There is a special level of clearance above all the things you’ve heard of, inside the US Government and a secret agent named Q is using an anonymous internet forum to share information that nobody has. When Q started out, it was a creative fiction, a LARP of sorts, which tried to explain that not only was Donald Trump exactly what the awful fans wanted to be, but the only reason things weren’t happening the way he wanted to wasn’t because the real world is boring and procedural and Donald Trump was a big dumb loser and liar and failure of a human just the absolute worst kind of dude, just the sheer idea of ‘America’ in the worst possible form of it, poured into a sack and made into a person. Uh where was I. Anyway, yeah, Q forwarded the fiction of a secret hidden state with a bunch of secret players and code words and so on was doing things.

The fantasy that Q offered is ‘what if things weren’t boring and disappointing, but instead interesting and exciting in the dumbest possible way.’ And there’s a conversation about the way that Q kind of restructures a modern understanding of what a cult is. After all, one of the common traits described in a cult is a charismatic leader. Under conventional models where a cult is something an individual twists around themselves, it’s easy to see that Qanon fails because the closest thing it has to a leader is the one person who isn’t involved in it: Donald Trump.

Instead, Qanon is a bubble of basically, Qinfluencers who are, I cannot stress this enough, absolute bozos and losers. They are people who inevitably have no actual things to recommend them as being actually good at or impressed with things, and they’re essentially monetising being dungeonmasters for rooms full of some of the most forgiving players ever. But Qanon doesn’t need to be good it needs to be shareable. It’s a social media cult in the purest way, where things are broken down into either shareable ideas that express disgust and rage with an outsider, or something that expresses joy and reassurance at the insider.

It is a pure meme swarm, coalescing not around what is coherent, but what complies with the immediate needs. You can watch conspiracy thinking in action through the whole mess, as each individual idea that gets expressed suddenly and immensely gets addressed with an ad-hoc excuse that may or may not actually address it and may even be explicitly contradictory of what was just said. There is nothing to this that can be true, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s supposed to feel right.

There are other examples. Consider that there are communities focused on attempting to determine some secret truth or investigating the ‘real’ genders of people, or of trying to determine the crime or fault of a streamer, and where any information that confirms or denies the conspiracy is seen as just more proof of the conspiracy.

This creates a literal cult environment; people who believe they have some special insight into their own enforced and demanded truth and where anything the subject does or doesn’t do cannot change that. You might well know the names of some people who are subjected to this kind of community. There are some people who you may only know exist thanks to the cult hating them making actual content that packages their belief to a general audience.

Maybe think about that?

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[alagaisia]

Yeah. I loved HP, obviously. And of course it became a big part of my identity. I read probably hundreds of books as a kid, but that was the book that everyone else had also read! In a social vacuum, I probably would still have loved it, but I probably wouldn’t have counted it as my favorite over Narnia or Protector of the Small or the Dark Hills Divide. It was the social aspect that made the books so impactful to so many of us, not anything inherent to the books themselves. Nobody is asking you to pretend you never liked the books, or to pretend you didn’t make lasting friendships or have foundational experiences because of them. They were popular during a long period that encompassed important adolescent development shit for, based on what I’ve seen from age-of-tumblr-user polls recently, most of the people on this site. You don’t have to deny the cultural or personal impact. I was the Harry Potter friend to almost people who knew me. I know so goddamn much in-universe trivia and useless bullshit from those books. But they weren’t anything special on their own. And now they live on the back of a shelf somewhere in my closet stuffed behind a box of old art projects and the set of china my mom bought for me at a junk store for when I someday move out. I am an adult now with other communities and other ways of connecting with people, and so are you. You don’t need them.

I am a sentimental person. I don’t get rid of things. Most of my childhood favorites are still on my bookshelf as an adult. And sure, it was tough at first to get over the idea that this wasn’t something I enjoyed anymore. I spent a long time immersed in that world, and when JKR soured it with her bigotry, it was a kind of betrayal. It took some time to work through all the internal feelings I had about losing that part of my childhood. But putting those books away? That was easy. Taking down the poster was easy. Not spending money on Harry Potter things because what the fuck why would you knowingly and on purpose send your money off to be used directly to hurt trans people is so fucking easy it is so easy NOT to do something! Inaction is the easiest thing there is! Not spending sixty dollars on a video game is WAY easier than dragging out the step stool to find space to cram those books up out of the way where I don’t have to look at them. It is 100% easier to do nothing at all than it is to choose to fund transphobic hate groups. Fuck you if you’re choosing otherwise. I can dredge up some sympathy for people still working through getting over Potter. (I mean, you’ve had a while now. Even if you only count the super super blatant out in the open shit, JKR’s been spewing hateful rhetoric since at least 2020. But I digress). I have NO sympathy, I have nothing but disgust and disdain, for people who use their lingering nostalgia as a crutch or an excuse to actively contribute to JKRs vitriol. There is no amount of nostalgia that excuses the extreme transphobia promoted by JKR or the extreme antisemitism presented by that fucking game. Quietly reread old fanfic. Keep your books on your shelf. It’s fucking weird that that’s something you’re personally comfortable with, but whatever. Do whatever you want privately in your own life. But giving money to that fucking hag is inexcusable and you know it. Anybody still doing it at this stage in the game knows exactly what they’re doing and has decided that they are okay with transphobia and racism and antisemitism, and everyone knows it. Everyone knows that that’s the choice you’re making. We are long past any plausible deniability of you just always loved the books or you didn’t know it was *that* bad. You are advertising to the world that you support transphobia and antisemitism and that you are a bad person! And your queer and Jewish friends can’t trust you to take even the smallest of steps to support them. Fuck you. Take your bullshit game and choke on it.

i'm so tired of critical takes about jkr that still take the time to reassure fans that their nostalgia for the series is still valid or whatever. i'd think your complicated feelings about a children's fantasy franchise would be an unspeakably minor priority compared to that threat of actual genocide that trans and jewish people are facing, but sure yeah it's fine that you still like butter beer and fantasize about playing quiddich

[longlivefanfic-net]

Make Her Happy

Summary: Robin has become an almost constant presence in your apartment, which isn’t a problem until you realize you’ve got a little crush. When you explain why you’re acting weird to Steve, your boyfriend, he decides to take things into his own hands. Steve/Reader and Reader/Robin.

Word count: 7.2k

Content: Mostly smut with perhaps a hint of angst?, F/F and F/M, threesome scene, female receiving head and fingering, penetrative sex, bisexual/pansexual/queer female reader, drinking. 

A/N: Robin and Steve are not sexually involved with each other. I kind of struggled with how to set this scene up so that it was very clear that Robin and Steve are 10000% not interested in each other but also like Reader gets to f*ck both of them because like. Jesus h christ they are both just so pretty. Frankly I think this…kind of hints at some queer polyamory for the female reader but ya know what. Thats what i would like to see and this is my world babes. Idk this might lead to more polycule-esque fics with nights with Robin interrupted by Steve and vice versa. Also special thanks to @thatsonezesty13 who requested bi!Reader <3

You weren’t sure when it had happened. It had been slow, gradual. Robin had always spent a lot of time at your’s and Steve’s apartment, usually bringing a VHS she wanted to watch or funny stories about the people she had talked to at work that day. One night, she had come over late, letting herself into your apartment with her spare key and a paper bag full of cheap tacos, interrupting you and Steve on the couch. When you had looked up from between his arms at her, haloed in the doorway by the glow of the hallway lights, you had blamed the adrenaline from Steve’s hands for the nervous twinge in your chest. Another time, Robin had been sitting on the floor, leaning back against your legs while you ran your fingers through her hair and she bemoaned the tragic state of the lesbian dating scene in Indiana, and when she had turned to look at you with little pieces of her hair askew from your hands all you could think was beautiful, she’s so beautiful. Now, you were basically trying to avoid her: an impossible feat considering how often she was in your apartment (she really practically lived there, as often as she had started staying the night, crashing on your couch and insisting on Steve making pancakes most mornings). 

Steve had noticed. You really didn’t want him to notice, but he was so good with people and he always picked up on the smallest things and, as he had pointed out last week, he’d have to be stupid not to notice when his two best girls were acting weird. You had tried to explain that you weren’t being weird–you just, maybe, needed some space from Robin. He had offered to kick her out, saying he’d make her stay at her own place for a few nights, and you had said no. You held his hand, chewed on your lip, and told him you liked having Robin around. When his eyes had narrowed in confusion, you had put his hand in your lap, leaning against Steve’s broad chest, and quietly–very quietly–informed him that you just had…a little “girl crush,” as you called it. It was nothing; you had had a few of them before, but you still loved Steve more than anything in the world. For you, Robin was kind of like if Phoebe Cates walked into the Family Video store one day and told Steve she wanted to hang out with him. Obviously, you knew he would still be attracted to her–how many times had he watched Fast Times now?--but, at the end of the day, you assumed he would still come home to you, even if it meant bringing Phoebe with him. Steve had looked down at you, understanding dawning over his face, and asked “She’s your Phoebe Cates? I mean–Phoebe Cates?” You had just laughed, explaining that you had meant it more metaphorical than literal as he rubbed broad, warm circles into your back. A few mornings later, after Robin had walked out your front door with a leftover chocolate chip pancake in hand, Steve had wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you tight into his chest, nipping playfully at your neck before he pulled back to look at you. “So,” he had asked, his face completely neutral, “You like me and girls? Or you like guys and girls, and me and Robin are the ones you like of those?” You had half laughed, interlocking your fingers around his neck. “I just like who I like, Steve,” you had said. “When I find someone attractive…I don’t know, I just don’t really think about if they’re a boy or a girl.” Steve had nodded, his uncombed morning hair flopping low over his forehead as he bent his neck to press a kiss to your cheek. “As long as you still like me,” he had said, pulling back with a playful grin. 

Robin had come over again tonight–not that that was a surprise–and you had moved to the other side of the couch than where you usually sat, making Steve sit on her usual end so she’d put all of her weight on him instead of you. For good measure, you drew your legs up beside you, curling them against your body as you leaned into Steve’s chest. He wrapped an arm around you, planting a kiss on the top of your head, then reached down to ruffle Robin’s hair. Something about the moment made you feel like you were in some sort of sitcom, but when Robin turned around to grin at you over her shoulder you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. Steve’s arm tightened around you at the slight change, and you looked up to see him looking at Robin with the light of an idea behind his eyes. “Robin,” he asked, tentatively. “How’d your date last weekend go?” Robin groaned theatrically, throwing her head back against Steve’s legs. “Oh my god,” she said, “Don’t even ask me about that again. I am so tired of the women in this town. They’re all either terrible and, frankly, kind of stupid, with, like, no real taste, you know, I mean the movie she wanted to see? God, it was so bad, but they’re all like her–or straight, I guess,” Robin said, turning to look at you with a grin. “See, you’re lucky Harrington. Life’s easy for you. You just asked out the prettiest girl you could find and it turned out she was incredible and smart and sexy, too.” You blush, the heat snaking over your face, at Robin’s words. Steve just nodded, looking like he had just snapped two puzzle pieces together. 

“You know what we should do tonight?” Steve asked. “Eat junk and watch TV?” Robin asked, an eyebrow cocked. She already had a half empty package of marshmallows next to her on the floor, something you and Steve kept stocked in the pantry almost exclusively for her. “We should drink,” Steve said, standing up suddenly. You fell back on to the couch, and peered up at him, confused. Steve just looked between you and Robin, his hands on his hips, and said, “Yeah. Drinks,” before disappearing into the kitchen. “I am not drinking too much tonight, Harrington,” Robin called after him. He came back in with a six pack, setting it down next to Robin as she grimaced. “Beer, Harrington? What is this, a frat party?” “Shut up, it’s what we’ve got–unless you feel like walking to the liquor store.” Robin grimaced but pulled one of the brown bottles out of the cardboard case, taking the bottle opener Steve handed her and popping the top. Without even looking at you, she passed the slightly hissing bottle over as you sat up, pulling a second one out for herself. You took a long pull from the cool glass, the taste of hops smooth over your throat as you looked at Steve, one eyebrow raised. He shrugged, smiling, and mouthed “trust me.” Blinking quickly, you looked away, and noted Robin watching the exchange between the two of you. “Everything…okay?” She asked, her voice rasping. “Never better,” Steve answered, chipper, as he took his seat back between the two of you. 

“Is there a reason you’ve got me drinking tonight, Harrington?” You asked. You didn’t usually refer to Steve by his last name–except when you put Mr. in front of it–but anytime you were around Robin, it just came out. He looked over at you, grinning, and cocked his head to the side. “I just thought my two best girls might benefit from loosening up a little,” he said, all charm as Robin snorted. “What?” He said, bumping her with his leg. “As if you’re anything other than uptight.” “I am not uptight,” Robin answered, “I am a reasonable amount of tight.” She blushed at her own word choice, then rolled her eyes, turning back to face the TV as she muttered “shut up” before Steve said anything. Steve looked at you, watching the taut skin of your neck shift as you took a deep pull from your bottle, swallowing it down. He kept his eyes flicking between you and the TV screen for the next twenty minutes, only half-heartedly watching the cheesy sitcom Robin had turned on as soon as she had come in the door. That’s how it went with Robin: walk into a room, find a friend, and turn off whatever part of her brain held her back from giving into her impulses. She had changed the TV channel while you were watching something on more than one occasion, had even walked into your home and started cooking dinner with the groceries in your fridge, but nothing topped the time she had walked into a party at one of Steve’s old friend’s house, seen a guy feeling up a girl who was passed out on the couch, and immediately lifted her booted foot up, kicked him–hard–directly in the shoulder and yanked him off the girl. The three of you had been thrown out of the party not five minutes after arriving–taking Robin’s rescue back to the front yard with you where you found someone the bleary eyed girl recognized. 

Robin’s eyes were glued to the screen, apparently unaware of the looks you were giving Steve behind her back. You had fallen back against your side of the couch instead of curling against him, suspicious of what had driven his sudden interest in drinking an entire six pack that would usually last him a week over the course of one night. Steve was adamantly avoiding your gaze, though he did occasionally turn his head to you. He seemed to be examining the bottle in your hand, and when his eyes happened to meet yours he would only pause long enough to widen his eyes, or turn up the corner of his mouth, or once–as you got close to finishing your beer–wink at you. Finally, you took one last swallow from your drink, upending the bottle into your mouth with your head tilted back against the arm of the couch as you drained the last drop. When you straightened your neck, Steve was turned to you, fully grinning now, and he reached out one of his long-fingered hands to snag the room-temperature brown glass out of your hands. Your eyebrows slid down, furrowing over your eyes as you watched him. You couldn’t be sure but, in the glow from the TV, it looked like he had only had maybe half of his own drink; you looked at Steve, your earlier interest in his actions starting to form a knot in your stomach as you pulled the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. The TV suddenly played out the sharp notes of the closing theme for Robin’s show, and she set her own empty glass bottle on the floor next to her before pulling another out of the pack. She turned around, glancing at you before turning to Steve. You could almost swear you saw the slightest shade of pink cross under her freckles when she saw you already looking at her, but the light in the room was so dim you couldn’t be sure. “What’s the plan, Harrington?” Robin asked. “Should I open another?” Steve nods, and asks her to hand you one as well. When she does, your fingers brush and you swear Robin pulls her fingers back just a second too fast, almost letting the bottle drop. 

“Let’s do something fun,” Steve says, looking at you. The knot in your stomach constricts and you’re sure that whatever he’s about to spring on you is what he’s been working up to all night. “What would be fun for you right now, Steve?” You ask. You’re on high alert–but you’re also fascinated. Steve’s never done something like this before, keeping something from you (though he’s not doing a particularly good job of hiding whatever it is), and you’re anxious to see what, exactly, has motivated this within him. “I want to play a game,” he says. He stands up suddenly, reaching out for your hand and, when you put your fingers in his, he yanks you to your feet. “Sit,” he says, and you sink to the floor next to Robin. He sits down on the chill ground as well, crossing his denim-clad legs as he settles across from the two of you. Reaching out, he grabs you by the hips and slides you, just barely, to move you between him and Robin, making a clear triangle between the three of you. He reaches over to Robin, grabbing her empty beer bottle from beside her and placing it in the middle of the three of you. “Spin the bottle!” He exclaims, gesturing widely with his outstretched palms. “Gross, Harrington,” Robin says, taking another pull from her bottle. “I don’t want to kiss you.” “Oh, get over yourself, Buckley,” Steve groans, rolling his eyes. “I need something harder than beer to be willing to kiss you.” “The only point to this game, then, is for you and your girlfriend to kiss, and I’m sure the two of you do plenty of that, unless you want–” Robin goes silent, cutting herself off in the middle of her sentence. Steve’s eyes flicker towards you and Robin’s faces in  turns. The flush is slower in it’s creeping over your skin as a result of the alcohol, but it’s definitely still under there. It builds, burning brighter as you say in feigned casualness, “It might be fun.” 

Robin swallows, her throat bobbing with the pressure of her forcing her obvious nerves down. “Do you…want to play, Robin?” You ask quietly. She looks at Steve, and his eyebrows lift slightly. “Yeah,” she says, her voice hushed. “As long as I don’t have to kiss Harrington, I want to play.” Steve smiles, reaching out his long, pale hand for the bottle. The sound of glass spinning over the floor is entrancing, and the three of you fall silent to listen to it echo in the stillness. When it lands on Robin, she groans loudly. “See, I knew it, oh, don’t you dare, Harrington–” Robin growls as Steve moves towards her. “Hold on, just be still for, like, one second, you little–” Steve presses a quick, chaste kiss to Robin’s cheek and she yowls like a stray cat fighting for dumpster scraps as she wipes her wrist over her cheek dramatically. “That’s it! That’s it, I swear!” Steve protests, sitting back with his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Disgusting,” Robin mutters. “Yeah, well, mutual,” Steve says, and his eyes betray that he’s on the verge of a laugh–likely at Robin’s dramatic reaction. The kiss had been like something shared on Christmas days and, frankly, you had seen Steve kiss Robin’s forehead with more passion last year on New Year’s Eve. Your own lips were right on the edge of a grin, actually; Robin and Steve, together, always brought out a sense of family that just felt joyful to you. “Anyway,” Steve says, “You get to spin now.” Robin sniffs, rolling her eyes in return, and her hand reaches for the bottle. You’ve never noticed before how smooth her hands are, how soft the skin looks. The polish over her clipped nails is chipping slightly, and you can see what you think must be a small scar on one of her knuckles. When the bottle stops spinning, pointing at Steve, you burst into giggles, drunk on either the alcohol of the budding euphoria in your stomach.

“See,” Robin says, “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to play your stupid little kid game, Harrington!” “Yeah,” Steve replies, pushing his fingers up through his hair, “That doesn’t count. Spin again.” Robin looks at you, quickly, then spins the bottle. She’s spun it harder this time, and it seems like the three of you are waiting forever for the glass to stop grinding gently over your floors. When it does come to a stop, pointing vaguely in your direction, the two of you look at each other. “What do you think?” She asks. “Is it close enough?” “Close enough,” you say, and you use your hands to shift your weight forward, coming closer to her on all fours. When you can touch her, you duck your head slightly, pressing your lips to hers gently. Her lips are smooth and they feel damp, like she’s applied her favorite chapstick before coming over. You start to pull back–worried you’re going to make her uncomfortable–when she finally leans into the kiss as well, using one of her hands to cradle the back of your neck and hold your mouth to hers. When her hand loosens, you pull back and look at her. This close, you can tell that there is a definite blush spreading over her cheeks, and her eyes seem wider than usual. Her lips are rosy, the delicate cupid’s bow seeming almost to quiver as she breathes quickly through the small gap between her top and lower lip. Almost in unison, the two of you turn to look at Steve. His pupils are wide, his eyes darker, and he’s got a faint blush running up his own neck. You start to sit back, immediately prepared to apologize, when you notice the slight bulge in his jeans. “Steve,” you whisper, your head tilting slightly. “Are you enjoying yourself, babygirl?” He asks. You turn, looking back at Robin, who’s blush darkens, and nod. “I want to see you happy,” Steve says from behind you, and you look at Robin’s eyes. She’s watching your mouth, her pupils dilated when she makes eye contact with you. 

“Robin?” You whisper. She blinks quickly, her long lashes blowing her eyes clear. “Is this okay?” You ask her. Her face is still only inches from yours, the heat radiating off her body beating against your face like a warm summer breeze across your skin. Robin’s lower lip disappears into her mouth, gnawing it between her teeth like she does when she knows she’s said something really stupid, and she turns to look at Steve. You hear his smooth voice across the silence of your living room: “It’s okay with me.” Without ever answering your question, Robin wraps her delicate fingers around the nape of your neck, pulling your face to hers as she pushes her lips against yours fiercely. The electricity between the two of you is instant, is chemical–maybe pushed to the surface by the beer, which you can taste in Robin’s mouth as her lips open and her tongue slides over yours. You tilt your head, pressing your nose into her face as you kiss her aggressively–there’s a delicate balance to kissing Robin, one that’s wholly different from your experiences with Steve. She feels gentle, almost timid under your fingers as they slide over her throat, pinching slightly as you desperately try to find a place to hold her. Robin’s movements are quick, rapid in their lightness, like she knows you’ll pull back soon. You push your weight into her; she leans back, slightly, as you use your body to press her against the couch. You sit back, suddenly, and she freezes. For a second, you just look at her: the dim lights in your apartment are glowing against her collarbone, her cheekbones, and her eyelids are drooping hazily. Her mouth is still puckered, slowly pulling short breaths that raise her shoulders and make her chest heave. You slide closer to her, closing the last of the distance between the two of you as you touch your mouth to hers and place your hand over her heartbeat, letting it’s rapid pulse echo through your own body.

When you finally pull back, head dizzy and hands shaking, you sit back on your heels and truly, deeply stare at Robin. There’s a lot to be said for the way it feels to live out your fantasies: kissing Robin was different than you had ever dreamed, but already you were eyeing her body, looking for the next place you could press your mouth to. When you turned on your knees, bumping the forgotten brown bottle and sending it rolling under the couch, Steve was staring at you. You tucked your chin slightly, locking your jaw, and traced your eyes up, over his body as he sat cross-legged. When your eyes got to his face, you were prepared to see anger, mistrust, maybe even a smirk; what you saw instead shocked you. Steve’s eyes were wide, his jaw loose, and the look in his eyes was the kind you usually only saw when you had him under your thighs, pinning him down to your shared bed. You blinked at him, once, slowly, and he immediately held his arms open to you. “Come here, baby,” he half growled, and you closed the gap between the two of you while Robin panted behind you. Settling yourself over Steve, you straddle his hips with your thighs, snaking your fingers up over his neck and into his long hair. He tilts his head up slightly, and his lips move as he silently begs you to touch him. Slowly, making him wait for it, you dip your head to his mouth. You kiss him more gently than you kissed Robin–where kissing Robin was fast and hard, kissing Steve is slow and soft. His lips are wide, settling against yours patiently as you administer feather light touches to his skin. Your lips slide, slowly, down to his chin and over his jawline, and you go as slow as you can stand to. He moans under you, quietly, and you can feel him aching against the seam of his jeans as you draw out each second away from his skin. 

“Um,” Robin’s voice is hushed from behind you. “Should I–I mean, I should leave, I think.” You pull your mouth back from where you’re sucking Steve’s throat, whipping your head back towards Robin quickly. “Don’t,” you say before you have time to consider the word. “Look,” Robin says, raising her hands to chest level, palms out–a classic Steve Harrington, peace bringer, move. “I don’t know what, um, foreplay this is that you two are, like, in to or whatever, but I just–” “It’s not foreplay,” Steve says, his voice quiet. “I want her happy.” He’s staring at Robin as he says this, and you feel a blush snake over your body as you bite your lip. “Well, I’m not just here to teach you how to–I don’t know, fucking get your girlfriend off or whatev–” “Hey,” Steve says, a note of offense in his voice. “I don’t need you to teach me anything. She just–I mean, she–” “I have a crush on you, Robin,” you say, your voice small. It’s embarrassing to admit, even though her bottom lip had just been between your teeth minutes ago. Robin looks at you, her sharp eyebrows narrowing together. “But you’re with Steve,” she says, her voice thick with confusion. “You’re not the first girl who’s picked Harrington over me, but I just–” You shake your head at her. “Steve and I got together before I knew I liked you,” you say. “So…you like Harrington. And you like me.” You nod, slowly, watching her eyes narrow as she tries to make sense of what you’ve said. “Steve. You knew she liked me?” He shrugs, nodding slightly. “And you wanted her to kiss me?” You turn back to Steve at Robin’s question, interested in hearing his answer yourself. He reaches out, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone as his fingers settle under your jawbone. “Like I said,” he murmurs, eyes on yours. “I want my babygirl to be happy.”

“Okay,” Robin says, a note of skepticism in her voice. “I still feel like I should leave. You got to kiss me and Steve got to kiss you and everybody’s happy now, so I’m going to–” “You could stay,” you interrupt her. You turn back to Steve, and he’s looking at you with his eyebrows slightly raised. You widen your eyes at him in question and he nods. “Stay the night with us, Robin,” you say, turning back to her. “But I’m…I mean. I’m not like you,” she says. “I don’t want Steve and you, I just want you and I just–” You grin as her words flow out, her mouth moving faster than her brain as usual so she doesn’t even realize she’s said she wants you. “I don’t want you either,” Steve says, half grimacing as he shakes his head at Robin. “I’m not going to touch you; I just want to touch her,” he says, wrapping his thick fingers around your waist at his words. You can’t help the hot feeling of desire that snakes it’s way up from between your thighs at his words, and you feel your breath hitch slightly at his words, causing Steve to squeeze his fingers into your skin slightly. Robin’s eyes flick to his hands on your skin, and the desire in her eyes is palpable. “So, what?” She asks, her voice hushed, eyes on the floor. “I spend the night with the two of you, and then we spend the rest of our lives with the two of you happy and me as some sort of third-wheel?” The pain in her face makes your heart physically feel like it’s breaking, and you can’t stop the way your jaw drops as a tiny hitch of breath breaks out of her throat. “Robin,” you say, gently, watching tears build in her almond-shaped eyes. “You’re always going to be a part of our family.” She raises her face, eyes hopeful as one tear shines it’s way down her cheek, splattering a dark stain on her top; you don’t even decide to reach out her, but suddenly your fingers are waiting in the dim light, a link between her and you, and you and Steve, if she wants to take it. When her fingers slip across yours, you feel a breath loose from your chest that you didn’t know you were holding. You gently tug her wrist, pulling her body to yours, as you turn back to Steve. He looks up at you again, grinning, and whispers, “Happy?” Instead of replying, you just press your grinning mouth against his. 

When Robin wraps her arms around your waist from behind, bringing her hands up to cup your breasts as you lean forward over Steve’s lap, you feel your heart racing through all of your skin, the pulse beating like the thin skin between you and Steve, between you and Robin, is too much separation. Your core is hot, already aching with a soft, slow need for something, someone. You rub your hips against Steve’s lap, delighting in the sensation of your body over his and the way Robin’s arms squeeze you slightly tighter to keep her torso pressed to your back as you move. Her head lowers to the space between your shoulder and neck, sliding her lips down over your pulse dancing along the side of your throat, and she nips at you softly. The gasp she elicits breaks through your mouth right as Steve’s fingers come up under your jaw, pulling your chin to angle your mouth to his. His lips are soft against yours, and the wide, flat of his palm snakes up your side to your breast, sliding his fingers between Robin’s to squeeze your soft skin. You feel grateful, suddenly, that you had thought this was a casual night-in originally, as Steve’s thick fingers pinch and roll your nipple unhindered by a bra. You gasp into his mouth, and Robin’s hand on your other breast quickly begins mimicking Steve’s actions. It it almost overwhelming, this feeling of two sets of hands sliding over you, tickling your skin, teasing and pinching you, and you have to break your mouth away from Steve’s just long enough to gasp, trying to force as much air as you can down your throat. 

“You okay, baby?” Steve asks, burrowing his head along the side of your neck Robin has left untouched so far. His hair brushes against your jaw, tickling slightly, as Robin presses her teeth into your skin on the other side. You want to tell them, both, that you feel incredible, that your body feels like it’s got the sun tethered under your skin, that you want both of them to touch you like this for the rest of your life, but all that comes out of your mouth is a slight whimper. Robin pulls her head back, and you feel her turn to look at Steve. “Is she okay?” She asks, a note of panic in her voice as the same sound comes out of you a second time. “She will be,” Steve says, and you can hear the sadistic tone to his voice that means he’s going to give you exactly what you’re already begging for. He runs his tongue over your throat, pausing with his lips lightly against your ear. “Want us to take you to the bedroom, baby girl?” Your fingers tighten, knotting in his hair, and the other hand reaches behind you for Robin, sliding up her neck to tighten in her long strands of hair as well. Steve sits back, slightly, and slips you off his lap on to the floor. You would whine, but he’s pressed you directly against Robin and you take the opportunity to tighten your hand on her neck and bend her head down to kiss you. Your mouth is hungry against hers, hard and desperate as you seek her touch. You sense Steve standing up in front of you, and you pull your mouth away from Robin’s to look at him as he leans down, slipping his arms around your thighs and lifting you, wrapping your thighs around his waist. He looks over his shoulder at Robin still panting on the floor. “You coming?” You turn to look at her just in time to see her flush at his words before giving a tense nod. She stands quickly, following Steve as he carries you back to the bedroom. 

He sets you down in the center edge of the mattress, the soft comforter tickling the back of your knees as his fingers wrap around the hem of your shirt, pulling it directly over your head and exposing your breasts. The air is cool against your skin, and your nipples harden again. Steve can’t stop himself from letting his tongue wet his lips and, when he sees you smile in return, he drops his head, his hair tickling your collarbones as his tongue slides over your soft skin. You gasp, wrapping your hands around the back of his head to keep him there as his fingers slide down, hooking in the sides of your shorts and underwear. He pulls back suddenly, his large hands on your shoulders as he pushes you down to the mattress before hooking them back against your hips to push the fabric there off of your skin. Standing in between your legs, your flushed skin making the air feel cooler and forcing you to be overly aware of your nudity, Steve strips his own shirt off, unbuckles his jeans, and lets them slide to the floor. He’s staring at you, his boxers tight in the center where his erection is bulging. You turn your head to the side, however, looking for Robin. She stands, uncertain, at the edge of the room. Her eyes are wide, and you can’t help but notice that the fingers of one of her hands are resting over her own breast, squeezing slightly. “Come here,” you whisper, your voice rasping almost like hers does. Robin’s eyes flick to Steve again, and he nods at her, smiling slightly. With this permission granted, Robin crosses her hands over her waist, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it up; she tosses it on the floor, next to your own, and slips her pants off to leave in a puddle of fabric on the floor. In her underwear, she walks to the mattress you’re sprawled on and climbs up, her knees coming slowly closer to your torso. 

Robin places one arm over your torso, and the fingers of the other slip down your skin. Your skin pebbles under her touch, and the heat of your blush can’t bring the gooseflesh back down. You bring your hand up to her small hip, sliding your fingers against her skin as you loop them under her the sides of her underwear. You look up at Robin’s face over you, and she nods slightly. Your fingers pull the fabric down slightly and her own hands help you, bringing the fabric between her knees before she manipulates them over her legs to toss on the floor behind her. She leans down over you, pressing her mouth against yours again, as Steve rubs slow circles with his thick fingers over your thighs. Your hand slips from Robin’s hips, lower down to her soft skin, pressing into her sex with the pads of your fingers and she moans into your mouth, the sound low and angelic. You take this as permission, and slide your middle finger along her slit, feeling the thick moisture there as she stifles a groan against your mouth. You run your fingers against her again, taking delight in the way her hips roll over your hand. Before either of you can think about it, you slide your middle and ring fingers into her entrance, a slight push allowing you to glide inside of her to your knuckles. She gasps, her open mouth on yours, and you take the opportunity to snag her lower lip between your teeth and bite gently. The moan she lets out reminds you of all the other sounds you’ve heard her make before, but it’s gentler. Usually, she sounds like a cat, one frequently on the verge of scratching, but now, here, on your fingers, she has turned to a kitten who cries out gently as your thumb brushes over her swollen clit. 

You continue to pump your hand in and out of her tight warmth, using your thumb to circle her clit as you do, and she rolls her hips, fucking herself on your fingers. Her head shifts back, slightly and she whimpers softly, a honeyed “fuck” dropping off her tongue as you feel the first of her tightenings around your digits; Steve takes this moment to dig his thumbs into the inside of your thighs, using his fingers to stroke faster circles over your skin. You have to stop yourself from increasing the pace of your hand, desperate to bring her to her edge and send her over, desperate to watch Robin’s face contort as her body does. You increase the pressure of your thumb just slightly, knowing you’ve done the right thing when a high pitched moan snakes out of her mouth. Finally, she tosses her head back completely, the sounds coming out of her mouth completely animalistic as her eyebrows slide together and her mouth drops open. Her chest is heaving, and her fingers claw into the comforter around you. You feel a moment of satisfaction despite your own need, but it is cut short by the distraction of Steve’s mouth against your inner thigh. You gasp, still shifting your fingers inside of Robin as her aftershocks subside, and Steve runs his tongue up your center. “Fuck,” you exhale, and he stands up, placing himself in between your thighs with a self-satisfied grin at capturing your attention. His boxers have disappeared while you were distracted by Robin, and his hand is wrapped around his erection, pumping slowly as he watches your face. With a slight smile, you nod at him and Steve buries himself in you to his base. You brush your thumb over Robin’s clit again at the same time, and for a moment the room is filled with the sound of all three of you gasping at the same time. 

Steve waits, placing his fingers around your hips as you adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. “Okay, babygirl?” He asks, quietly, his hair slipping over his forehead. You nod and he begins shifting his hips, pushing himself in and out of you as his thumbs press into your skin. Despite the pressure of his hands, you still roll your hips against him, desperate for more friction–he feels good inside of you, filling you perfectly, but you need more somehow, more contact. He takes the hint, bringing one of his hands down to place his palm over your mound as his thumb slips in between your folds to rub long, languid strokes against the sensitive bundle of nerves above where the two of you are joined. You gasp, your head rolling back into the soft mattress, but it still somehow isn’t enough. You turn your head, looking at Robin as she watches your face contort with the sounds working their way out of your chest, and you whimper. “What is it, baby?” Steve asks, his pace faltering slightly. “What do you need from me?” You shake your head, eyes still on Robin. “Do you need Robin?” You nod, jaw clamped together against the sounds trying to burst out of your mouth. Steve slows his movement inside of you, starting to pull out, and you whip your head back to look at him. “No,” you practically growl, and he stills. “I want you inside me,” you say, and the side of his mouth tilts up as he slides back into you again. He runs his hands under your thighs, lifting you slightly and pulling you down just an inch or two to settle your body farther down on his length while he stands at the edge of the bed. You moan, softly, and look back at Robin. “What do you want from me, babygirl?” Robin’s use of Steve’s pet name for you makes your heart flutter in your chest, and you know he’s feeling a sense of pride right now. “I want you,” you say, and it comes out as a whine. She blushes slightly, turning her head to share a grin with Steve at the end of the bed. “Tell me exactly what you want,” she says, reaching a hand out to brush her fingers over a strand of your hair that has stuck to your forehead as you sweat. “I want you on my mouth,” you blurt out, and her eyes go wide with desire. You turn back to look at Steve, whose eyebrows are raised as he fails to bite back a grin. 

“Anything for you, babygirl,” Robin says, and she lifts herself up, settling her hips over your face. Steve slowly begins to pick up his pace again, thrusting in to your molten core as your tongue slowly slides in between Robin’s lips. She sighs quietly, settling more of her weight around you as your hands slide up her torso to squeeze her breasts over your head. Steve is moaning slightly, his fingers tightening around your thighs, and you decide to skip the foreplay with Robin’s body, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking. She gasps, and when you lightly graze your teeth against her you can feel her thighs shake around your face. The combined pressure of her earlier orgasm and watching you get fucked by Steve has kept her close to a second orgasm, and you can feel her core tense over you as you run your tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves in between your lips. With Robin’s orgasm so close already and the feeling of Steve filling you, you feel your own muscles start to tighten. Steve takes his signal from your body, bringing one of his hands up to press lightly against your stomach, and you are suddenly moaning into Robin’s warmth, still desperately working your tongue against her as your muscles hitch inside your body, bringing you crashing over the edge Steve has spent hours working you towards since he first suggested drinking, and you almost worry you’re going to go blind as your legs shake and white pinpoints of light flicker over your vision. Robin moans as well, and you feel her come over your face, dripping down your chin as she bucks her hips against your hands still desperately holding her in place. Steve is the last to finish, his soft grunts turning into low moans of “fuck, babygirl, fuck” as his fingers bruise your skin and he buries himself in you, letting his orgasm fill the deep need inside of your core. His cum is thick as he twitches inside of you and his hands claw at your skin desperately as your aftershocks quiver around him, pulling his cock further into you as he fucks you through his orgasm, pushing the heavy mixture of his seed and your arousal back out of your body with each thrust. 

Finally, there is quiet in the bedroom except for the sounds of the three of you panting. Robin lifts her legs from around your face, sliding over to one side of the bed before she leans down to kiss you again, moving her tongue in between your lips to taste the mixture of your mouth and her orgasm and wiping your chin softly with her fingers. You sit up, just enough to slide your body back more fully on to the mattress, and lay back down, feeling the plush come up behind every pulse point of your skin. Robin settles down next to you, turning on her side so her face is tilted to yours and you can watch the flush slowly recede under her skin as her breathing slows. She gently puts one hand over your breastbone, watching her own fingers move as you inhale. Steve is the last to join you on the bed, still breathing heavy as he settles himself on his side next to you. He buries his head in the skin of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent as he presses his lips to the spot under your ear. “Are you happy, baby girl?” He asks. Your eyelids feel heavy, your body spent and satiated, and your heart–your heart feels like, if they could see it right now, it would be shining a nearly blinding golden light of joy. You nod, and he sighs. Robin, quietly, says “That’s a yes, right?” and you almost laugh at her, but you just turn your head to her and smile before nodding again. She smiles and then purrs almost as she settles herself closer to you. Steve wraps an arm around your ribs, slipping his fingers around the top of your stomach as he pushes his torso closer to yours. “Harrington,” Robin rasps, voice thick with sleep already. “You’re touching me.” “Then move over,” Steve says, yawning, but she stays where she is, already asleep. “We’re going to need a bigger bed,” Steve mutters, and the room fills with the sound of their quiet breathing. 

[hakasims]

The Most Important Review of Every Single Marwan Kenzari Film

If you’ve seen this one about Luca, you know the drill.

Now, Marwan’s brand is a little less defined than Luca’s but I managed to find similar tropes in a lot of his films. Also, rather than copy myself and give you a redundant Marwanmeter, I decided instead to recommend which Luca character best pairs with each Marwan character for your crossover pleasure. Let’s see if we ship the same things! Some of them are crack. You’re welcome.

(all gifs again by the awesomely amazing @weardes​ who did not ask to be my gif factory but life’s a bitch)

Het zusje van Katia (2008)

Will you miss him if you blink? Kinda. They talk about him a lot but his actual screen time is like 43.7 seconds. Also can I just say... he’s supposed to be from Italy?? The boy says literally one (1) Italian word, and you’ll never guess what it is. (Obviously, it’s “bella” like there’s a chance he could’ve said anything else.)

Is he hot? Painfully hot.

Is he naked? There’s this one scene where he’s wearing the sluttiest pair of speedos I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Does his hair look great? Actually, yes. Perfect hair, perfect beard, he looks amazing.

Does he fuck? Yes, a lot - off screen, including an M/M/F threesome he presumably, probably, most definitely initiated.

Best paired with? From what I’ve gathered, this hoe ain’t loyal, so the best course of action is to find him a Luca that would benefit from a one night stand with no strings attached and wouldn’t fall in love with him. The obvious choice here is Valerio from Slam - Tutto per una ragazza. They meet, they fuck, then Giac makes his 4-hour drive back to Pisa, and they don’t see each other again until the next time he’s in Rome. Everybody’s happy, especially the two sluts in question.

De laatste dagen van Emma Blank (2009)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, absolutely.

Is he hot? Very.

Is he naked? Almost constantly.

Does his hair look great? He’s got those cute short curls, he looks so good.

Does he fuck? That’s literally why he’s there: to fuck and to die.

Best paired with? Man, I wish I had something to work with here. The only thing we know about him besides his sexual prowess is his affinity for white suits and toy helicopters. And as far as I know, those might be the exact things Fabrizio from Nina finds hot in guys. So like, why not?

Loft (2010)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character.

Is he hot? Yeah, sure.

Is he naked? There’s a scene where he’s wearing underwear and a tank top but it somehow makes him look like a kindergartener.

Does his hair look great? It looks quite nice.

Does he fuck? Yes, though I wish he didn’t.

Best paired with? Tom is a very violent person and a drug addict. He does messed up stuff to his sexual partners I’d rather he didn’t do to any of Luca’s characters. Feel free to use him for your sadistic fantasies or as a villain or whatever.

Rabat (2011)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s one of the three leads.

Is he hot? Oh yes! And cute!

Is he naked? He’s at the beach wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

Does his hair look great? He’s got this extreme undercut thing that would look ridiculous on anyone less pretty, so like no, he doesn’t have great hair, but also like it’s Marwan, you know what I mean?

Does he fuck? Before he embarks on a road trip with his friends, he has an offscreen threesome with two girls he picked up at a wedding. Slut.

Best paired with? Gabriele from Waves. They’re both sweet guys who could meet in some Tunisian port and decide to sail the Mediterranean Sea together.

Black Out (2012)

Will you miss him if you blink? Not unless your blinking is very deliberate.

Is he hot? Not really. He’s a dirty cop with a shitty moustache and oral fixation.

Is he naked? No, but I wish he was: his clothes are awful. Marwan is 29 in this movie and he looks 50!

Does his hair look great? Nope. They took Marwan’s usual short hair and made it not work somehow.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? The one thing Luca’s characters all have in common is that none of them come off as bootlickers. All of them are either too soft for such a relationship or wouldn’t waste their spit on a cop.

Wolf (2013)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? *gestures wildly at the gif*

Is he naked? He’s got quite a few shirtless scenes.

Does his hair look great? It’s nothing special but suits his character well.

Does he fuck? Oh yes.

Best paired with? Hear me out. I know that some people ship him with Fabio, but in my opinion that pair, while hot, doesn’t work. Here’s my pitch: Cesare from Non essere cattivo. The drug connection is still there, but in this case Majid’s problem-solving skills won’t fall on deaf ears. Cesare needs a daddy, ok? Majid can be a daddy when he needs to, especially when he has a soft boyfriend to care for. And Majid needs soft, not psycho.

Hartenstraat (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist once again.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? There’s that iconic scene where he’s wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and boots while carrying a tray...

Does his hair look great? He’s got Joe-like curls and looks like what every male romantic lead should aspire to look like and then cry because they all fail.

Does he fuck? There’s one very unfortunate sex scene played for laughs. I’m pretty sure he’ll need therapy afterwards. I certainly do.

Best paired with? Paolo from Il padre d’Italia. Paolo deserves the best boyfriend, and who’s better than Daan, an extremely hot man who cooks? They both have daughters, so they can talk about that, I guess, and Paolo can finally have a family. Honestly, this is so wholesome I just made myself cry.

Lucia de B. (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? For sure.

Is he hot? He’s a cop. Again. But he looks good.

Is he naked? Fully dressed, but man are his clothes ugly. Is that a cop thing?

Does his hair look great? He has slightly longer curls, which is fine and the best thing about this character.

Does he fuck? ACAB. (I know this doesn’t answer the question, I just wanted to make it clear.)

Best paired with? See my bootlicker comment from earlier. While Detective *checks notes* Ron Leeflang isn’t explicitly corrupt, he’s obviously a dick, so the best I can do here is recommend any Luca character that has ever been in trouble with the law for any fics about power imbalance you want to write but aren’t comfortable with a nice Marwan playing the villain.

Bloedlink (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Oh no, he’s there the entire time.

Is he hot? In a weird way, yes.

Is he naked? So, so, so naked. Like, leave nothing to the imagination naked.

Does his hair look great? I’d say that little rat tail is the exact opposite of great.

Does he fuck? Probably more than is good for him. I should also add that he’s canonically queer in this.

Best paired with? Rico is a pathetic loser in need of someone who’s got his life together and has a lot of experience dealing with fuckups. Enter Loris from Il mondo fino in fondo. He has a stable job and a savior complex, and with his little bro gaying it up in Chile and not needing him anymore, all he wants right now is someone to fix. I should be a fucking matchmaker in real life, for real.

Pak van mijn hart (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Undoubtedly.

Is he hot? No. The whole point of his character is to be the lesser choice compared to a guy who looks like a completely ordinary bland white dude...

Is he naked? ...so of course he isn’t naked! What, are they gonna take this poor woman, show her Marwan Kenzari’s post-Wolf body and expect her to choose her deeply mediocre ex? Please! They’re gonna dress him in the dorkiest clothes possible...

Does his hair look great? ...and make him wear the most awful wig that was clearly run over by a truck.

Does he fuck? No. As you can observe, they tried really hard to make him unfuckable, but honestly, he seems like a perfectly nice guy.

Best paired with? You know what? Mattia from La solitudine dei numeri primi is in desperate need of some sweetness and normalcy. I’m sure Richard will treat him with kindness and respect.

Collide (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character. Out of five.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? Not for a second! What’s up with American movies where people aren’t just casually walking around naked without any plot necessity???

Does his hair look great? His curls are so cute you guys! Look at them!

Does he fuck? Not explicitly.

Best paired with? Fabio from Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot. Again, the drug connection is there, but Matthias is soft enough not to butt heads with Fabio and, by the end of the movie, rich enough to satisfy his cravings for good living and fame. Also look at how good their color coordination is with those dark wine red clothes! Sometimes planets just align, okay?

Ben-Hur (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, especially if you aren’t watching the background.

Is he hot? Your usual Marwan hot.

Is he naked? No.

Does his hair look great? His typical short curls with a twist. I think the forehead area is supposed to invoke the Caesar cut? I don’t know. It looks fine when not hidden under that dumb helmet.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? A better script and a much better director. (Seriously, what is this blocking?)

The Promise (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there a decent amount in the first half of the movie and then almost completely disappears in the second half.

Is he hot? Very much, yes.

Is he naked? Unfortunately, no.

Does his hair look great? He’s got short curls again, but this time they’re fashionably styled, it’s magnificent.

Does he fuck? Oh yeah! And there’s no way he isn’t bi or pan in this. No way.

Best paired with? Roberta from L’ultimo terrestre. Listen, Emre Ogan may be a slut but he’s a gentleman, okay? He’d treat Roberta right and he’s got daddy’s cash to spare on hundreds of gorgeous white dresses for her.

The Mummy (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there, but barely.

Is he hot? Dangerously hot.

Is he naked? Not once! Instead we get a naked Tom Cruise literally no one asked for.

Does his hair look great? It’s your basic professional short hairdo.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Malik is a member of an organization tracking and destroying various monsters and historical artefacts related to them. Guido from Tutti i santi giorni speaks four languages, including Latin, and is a literature and ancient history nerd which makes him a valuable asset. Malik can fight and protect; Guido is bumbling and in need of saving. Guys, this writes itself.

What Happened to Monday (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, especially not in the third act.

Is he hot? He’s okay.

Is he naked? Very naked.

Does his hair look great? They shouldn’t have greased his curls back. He looks like another victim of Fabio Cannizzaro’s stylist. Also I wish he’d either shaved or finished growing out that beard.

Does he fuck? He fucks and he fucks good. He’ll go down on you, he’ll deflower you slowly and gently, he’ll choke you if you want him to, he’ll spoon you all night, he’ll give you emotional support, he’ll murder people for you - he’s down for whatever.

Best paired with? There’s one Luca character who needs a lot of sex and even more emotional support. Alright, most of them do, but I’m thinking of Ettore from Lasciate andare. He needs it, okay? Good dicking, good spooning, a good ear, a fine piece of ass to cry into - you get the gist. Most importantly: someone who’d love him for who he is and with whom he could relax and be himself. (Also, I see you, people comparing him to Fabio. Shame on you for sleeping on this soft boy and judging him based on his appearance.)

Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s kinda always present, being very French.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? No, but I’m willing to forgive that because he looks so good in his conductor uniform.

Does his hair look great? He never takes off his hat.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Mickey Miranda. They’re both murderers morally dubious characters who would look hot together. What else do you need? (Again, I see you, people who want Pierre for Roberta because he’s a “nice guy”, and I know for a fact you didn’t watch the movie. Spoilers, I guess.)

The Angel (2018)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? Oh yes.

Is he naked? Not once, but you won’t regret it because he’s wearing excellently stylish 1970s clothes.

Does his hair look great? It looks fantastic. The sideburns (not yet seen here) are a good touch.

Does he fuck? He can definitely get it, but he’s loyal to his wife.

Best paired with? As the most aesthetically coherent and fashionably hot pair in this post, Ashraf and Primo are a no-brainer. Can you imagine Primo calling him “Angel” in different contexts? When he’s being intimidating, not realizing how palpable the sexual tension between them is, and later not even hiding his arousal? Sometimes things just work because they’re hot. That’s all, folks.

Aladdin (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the main villain.

Is he hot? It’s not like he went viral for being the “hot Jafar” or anything.

Is he naked? No! Fucking thanks a lot, Disney.

Does his hair look great? He has a buzz cut under that turban but he looks good in the turban, so that’s something.

Does he fuck? It’s a Disney movie, so he doesn’t fuck - explicitly or otherwise - but he still comes off as a thirsty bitch.

Best paired with? Jafar ends the movie as a genie who’s obligated to grant his master three wishes but is enough of a petty bitch to exploit the hell out of the “gray area” and screw them over Wishmaster style. My unconventional pair for him is Lui from Ricordi? So many scenarios with distorted memories and magic-induced mindfuck. So many possibilities for awesome and messed up crossover gifsets! Don’t say I never give you guys anything.

Instinct (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s very prominent.

Is he hot? I hate myself for finding him hot but I do.

Is he naked? He’s playing basketball shirtless in one scene, shaking his sweaty boobs everywhere.

Does his hair look great? His weird mohawk-like thing is honestly terrible, but if anything can make it work, it’s Marwan’s bone structure.

Does he fuck? Um, I’m pleading the Fifth on this one for the sake of good taste.

Best paired with? Prison. A very lonely, Luca-less prison.

The Old Guard (2020)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, unless blinking in your case means sleeping through the gloriousness that is the first ever canonically gay couple in an American action film.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? Shirtless in one scene.

Does his hair look great? Soft curls courtesy of Luca Marinelli’s tireless lobbying.

Does he fuck? Not on screen, but you can just tell by the way he looks at his husband and reads impromptu poetry right to his face. And everybody knows nothing kindles the fires of passion quite like murdering homophobes together.

Best paired with? If you have to ask, you’re clearly reading this by mistake. In which case, kudos for finishing such a long and confusing post, now go watch The Old Guard and cry at the beauty that is The Immortal Marriage.

[tearsofgrace]

endings are hard... but they aren’t impossible

tldr; the good place fucking nailed the finale, supernatural completely and utterly bombed it.

tags: wc--4.5k, gif heavy, spn meta, the good place, supernatural finale, spn wank, all gifs are mine, if you read til the end there’s a pretty gif

so i recently finished the good place (i was watching w my family and we finally had time to sit down and watch the last season) and god fucking dammit that ending is FLAWLESS. literally flawless. 

and because i’m, well, me… i spent most of the time during that hour long finale thinking about how supernatural could have had even a fraction of that and avoided so much heartbreak. 

anyways. i decided to compare them. to REALLY compare them. to get into the nitty gritty of why the fuck the good place ending left me feeling, as the finale is all about, sated and complete. and why the spn ending left me confused, lost, broken, betrayed, unable to even enjoy my comfort show at all until a dear friend finally just watched an episode (8.08) start to finish with me. 

so without further ado (always wanted to say that) here’s the good place/supernatural finale meta that no one asked for

comedy

we’ll start small. both these shows have excellent comedy. in extremely different ways… but still

in the good place finale, the comedy was perfect. whether it was jason reappearing in the forest, michael trying to get through The Door, tahani reversing the “hot bod” bit on eleanor, every comedic moment was actually pretty emotional and added something to the show. they deepened characters’ meanings, added to their relationships, and made the audience think as much as they made the audience laugh.

in the spn finale… the comedy was the pie gag. the whole sam shoving pie into dean’s face. beyond this being… like meta as hell (the whole prank thing) it doesn’t have any depth to it.

and to add salt to the wound, this “hilarious” thing happens RIGHT AFTER salmondean have a conversation about missing jack and cas that is equal parts flat and infuriating. the brothers, in particular sam about jack and dean about cas, should care more. this is their family. and family is everything to them. but, no, by all means pie dean in the face.

last lines

this one IRKS me. okay. 

the last line of the good place  "I'll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe: Take it sleazy.” “All right.”  is ICONIC. okay?

it’s a reference to season 1 that doesn’t feel fan-servicey. it’s kinda honestly emotional cuz it’s like a message to us, the audience. it perfectly completes michael’s arc. it captures the light-hearted vibe of the show while also somehow managing to be poignant. you can see it coming like the second before it happens but it’s also not the obvious choice. it’s just. goddamn it’s good.

the last line of supernatural…. is… “and cut.” not even said by one of j2. i mean i know it’s a meta show but COME ON ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??????????

now i hear you shouting wait but that’s just the end of the thank you message. okay fine whatever. in that case the last lines are “Hey, Sammy.” “Dean.” (i couldn’t bring myself to gif that moment)

i’m sorry but. that’s predictable. that’s obvious. that’s boring. that’s flat. sure, it celebrates the bond between the brothers. but like… that’s not what this show is about anymore. it’s not just about sam and dean winchester it’s about what they’ve created. it’s about the world they’ve saved, the family they’ve made, about how they always keep fighting but nope we get bland, boring, coulda seen ‘em coming from miles away lines for the very end. that’s fine.

montages

the spn finale is like 50% montages that don’t make sense and are poorly done and not emotional

the good place has a montage of michael being human that brought me to tears

timing

here’s another short section. the good place finale was 53 minutes long as opposed to the usual 20 minute long runtime of every episode. granted, the fandom of the good place is very different, but STILL there was no documentary telling the fans things they ALREADY knew (there was a short special after the ep, but the episode itself was still far longer than normal). it was 53 minutes of plot. of really fucking good not rushed plot. 

the supernatural finale was… what 36 minutes long?? as opposed to the normal 40 minute runtime?? granted, we did get an hour long documentary of things we’ve all heard in cons and interviews a billion times so hey. take what you can get i guess.

character arcs

this is most of the meat of this meta. one thing we’ve all been harping on a TON is how they RUINED character arcs. soooo let’s go through and juxtapose some character arcs shall we

eleanor

eleanor shellstrop starts the show completely self-obsessed. she died getting hit by shopping carts while picking up margarita mix and let’s be real she’s a total icon. love her to death. she grows a ton, becomes one of the most selfless characters on the show, and starts to actually (jack forbid) CARE about things. it’s one of the most satisfying and relatable character arcs i’ve ever seen. 

it’s not just her selfishness either, her character is super multi-faceted and complex, and i feel like even in the end we’re getting to know her better. she’s afraid of commitment, always worried about what others’ actions will do to her, loves the trivial side of life, is queer as fuck (as acknowledged by the show in a way that’s not harmful at all but also isn’t explicitly bi/pan/unlabeled/omni etc, allowing queer fans to see their own identity in her), and is all around a HUMAN BEING. her ending at the beginning of the show was her death. her stupid, trivial, meaningless death where she was, as she puts it, all alone. and her final ending ISNT that. yes, everyone goes before her. and i think that’s purposeful. to show that she’s grown enough that being alone in some sense is okay.

but she’s never TRULY alone. and in the end. the REAL end. janet is there. the whole time. because eleanor asked her to be!! she got over her crazy need for independence and simply asked for help. and eleanor dies an amazing person that has become selfless, has found joy in philosophy while still enjoying trashy content, has fixed her relationship with her mother, and has found a sense of completion. eleanor’s life ends on her terms, and it’s beautiful.

dean

alright. now just as you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy let’s look at dean winchester’s ending. you’ve heard it a million times, so i’ll be brief. dean was raised to be a hunter, a soldier, a killing machine with no feelings and no purpose. he was raised to die scared on a hunt, his life over because of some mistake he made because he will NEVER measure up. at least that’s what john and everyone else told him with the exceptions of some of his family (and family don’t end in blood). he started to accept that he didn’t have to have this. he started to realize that he could CHOOSE what his ending was. 

the beautiful thing is, we never truly got to see what that was. i personally like to think it’s similar to the roadhouse michael locked him in while he was trapped in his own mind. a safe place for hunters, somewhere he (and cas in my opinion, but that’s not important) could settle down and still be in the life. it would be an amazing tribute to jo and ellen, and just all around a great ending. he wouldn’t have to be scared, but he wouldn’t have to conform to some apple pie facade of normalcy. and ya know what?? say that he died so he could have peace i dare you. because dean doesn’t find peace until sam is there anyway so i beg of you WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT. 

dean winchester died scared. dean winchester died on a hunt. dean winchester died on one of john’s old hunts. dean winchester died not directly at the hands of a monster, but at the hands of a mistake. his mistake. dean winchester died without ever working through the trauma of his best friend in the entire world confessing his love in a final act of self-sacrifice. dean winchester died in a way that leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does not at all show the audience what he’s been through and how much he’s grown. dean winchester did not die on his terms, and he deserved better.

chidi

okay back to happy. chidi anagonye. by far my personal favorite good place character (don’t tell anyone i always say jason cuz he and i are very similar). chidi in the last few episodes is SO DRASTICALLY different than the chidi we meet at the beginning. he’s decisive, confident, self-assured, and it’s amazing to see. he’s not afraid of life anymore. he’s not afraid to make the wrong decision and forever alter his reality, because he’s okay with failure. 

at the beginning, chidi was so petrified of life that… it killed him. and in the end, he’s completely at peace with every decision he makes, even the final one. yes, he considered staying for eleanor, but that just shows how his moral code and his compassion for others is still very much still intact. it shows the audience that you can be confident and decisive without being a selfish asshole. 

chidi leaves the good place knowing that it’s the right thing to do. knowing without a doubt that his time has come. the old chidi never would have been able to fathom being that sure about something. it’s beautiful. it’s a development that can give the audience peace, can show them that this drastic of change is possible, and that chidi became a better person for all of it. chidi went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

sam

… this one might be controversial… but sam winchester. god i hated sam’s ending. at first i was kinda okay with it. like, okay fine he got his normal life. but, really, in the end that’s not what sam wanted. he started to realize that he didn’t need that apple pie, white picket fence life. he didn’t need the wife and the kids and the backyard and the barbecues because that is NOT sam’s personality and i will throw hands on that. 

that’s not to say he doesn’t want some sort of romance, maybe even kids, but not in that way. he lets himself see that he doesn’t need to be defined by his rebellion to john. doesn’t need to be defined by going to college or any of those “normal” smart kid things because it doesn’t fit him. and that’s okay! but how does sam’s story end? it ends with a wife (that isn’t even important enough to show her face). with kids. with a goddamn white picket fence. we think he’s still hunting to some extent… but it’s not the arc we were led to believe would happen. it’s not this amazing leader sam that we see in season 12-14, uniting hunters and organizing them. 

he had SO MUCH potential and they throw it away on a vanilla ending that shows only surface level pain at losing his brother. he doesn’t even invite the rest of their family to the wake for fuck’s sake. jared did an incredible job. pls don’t think i’m saying he didn’t. but that script…. sam winchester’s arc was cut short. he didn’t go on his terms, and he deserved better.

jason

jason mandoza. the only character that has ever embodied my complete dumbass energy to the insane extent that it exists. he went to hell for his impulsivity. he never thought before a decision. i aspire to be as reckless as jason while on earth. but he LEARNED. he got better, just like they all did. and by the end of the show, jason doesn’t need to be impulsive anymore. much like eleanor being left “alone,” the show does a masterful job with making him be the first one to go, capturing his old impulsiveness. but he chooses to leave. he takes his time in deliberation, waiting until a feeling of peace, of completion, of well, ‘true happiness’ (sorry cas stans, i’m right there with you) has settled over him. 

the ending of his story is one of growth, just like all these characters have been. and the best part? the show makes it comedic in the most poignant and beautiful way, because it’s jason, it had to be funny. we learn that jason has been in the woods for like, eons, just waiting to go through the door because he wants to give janet a necklace. he’s learned to simply wait. to be at peace with… nothing. his torture was being a monk, but in the end, jason embodies those ideals. his arc comes to fruition in an extremely satisfying way. jason goes on his own terms, and it’s beautiful.

castiel

this one is gonna hurt like a bitch. castiel is my comfort character. he’s my role model. he’s me in a lot of ways. i love him. so fucking much. so excuse me if this is slightly incoherent. i’m actually okay with cas’ ending… in a way. because his actual ending as an on-screen character? perfect. self-sacrifice while coming out and professing his love to dean winchester. a little bit bury the gays, but let’s be real, it’s supernatural. and “happiness is in just saying it” has to be the most powerful way to think of coming out. it takes away the fear, it takes away so much of the pain that can follow. because the joy is in just saying the words.

it’s how this was treated on the show that makes cas’ character arc terrible (and we haven’t even gotten to 15.20). YOU CANNOT JUST IGNORE A LOVE CONFESSION. that is god awful writing and i will never change my mind on that. cas deserved his family to care about him. to at least address and be sad about the fact he was gone. jesus fucking christ after everything castiel deserved at least that. and then we go to 15.20. cas is in heaven. cas is serving god. cas is right back where he started. now, i’m coming off a little strong. 

if the show had decided to show us cas and jack in heaven makin’ the world a better place… i woulda come around to it. i woulda realized that that’s not REALLY erasing 12 years of character development and cas realizing that his whole identity isn’t just him serving heaven and isn’t just him being an angel and that he’s so much more than all of that and he could still be happy as a human… because really he’s with his son. but they didn’t show us that. they barely even mentioned him. and to me. that counts as a bad character arc. and i’m sorry if you disagree. castiel may have gone on his own terms, but they treated that beautiful sacrifice with disrespect and disdain, plus resolved his arc by putting him back where he started. he deserved better.

tahani

*deep breaths guys this is a long post i’m sorry* anywayyyy tahani!!! we love tahani obviously. let’s talk about her arc, because it always kinda bothered me. throughout the show, we see all the other character’s growing and expanding their knowledge of right and wrong. and, don’t get me wrong. we see tahani grow a lot. but she makes a lot of the same types of comments and shit like that. but it’s how she treats the reactions to those comments. by the end of the show, she laughs at the caricature of herself that the others see. she isn’t looking for vindication in name-dropping, she just does it. she is far less self-absorbed, and is genuinely interested in those around her. she fixes her relationships with her sister and her parents in a way that doesn’t feel forced and actually feels like a beautiful, healthy family reunion. 

she has a list and she does everything on it. it’s worth noting, that the things on her list are not at all what they would have been at the beginning of the show. most of them are humble “labor” type tasks, and all of them are in self improvement. tahani’s end on the show is not the same as everyone else’s. she realizes that she doesn’t need to be done. that there doesn’t have to be an end to self-improvement. and she becomes an architect. the writers perfectly embody her transformation from a self-obsessed rich girl who has never done a thing for herself and laughs at the lower-class to a down-to-earth worker that simply doesn’t want the journey to end. 

it’s incredible how perfectly the writers were able to close off these character arc’s without it feeling forced, and without ignoring their character development. imagine that. tahani chooses her own way, and it’s beautiful.

jack

jack’s ending may be the only one that i’ve actually somewhat come to terms with. it’s not terrible. it’s not great. but it’s not nearly as bad. because ignoring that awful monologue about every drop of rain and shit, jack really does end up helping people. he ends up doing something that he loves and that makes the world a better place. and he doesn’t lose his personality in it. but. i dunno, that’s still his destiny, right? to create paradise. and this is a show about ripping up the rule book, about choosing free will above all else… so to have every single character just fulfill their destiny is cheap. 

still… i’ll try to be unbiased. because really at the beginning of jack’s time on the show, he’s unsure what he wants. and at least, in the end, he’s sure. he has a wisdom that he’s always had but he’s now using. and i’m good with that. but what’s NOT okay about jack’s ending is the lack of on-screen family. jack learns that family is important. sam, cas, dean those are the people he cares about. and you’re telling me he would just NEVER see them again? and be okay with that? i know he rebuilds heaven with cas, but we don’t even get a story about him rescuing cas from the empty. and he seems in 15.19 to not be that concerned about it (after the amazing emotional scene at the beginning). jack should have cared about his family. he did. but they ruined that for him. so jack kline deserved better.

michael

oh man where do i start. michael’s growth is the biggest on the show. i mean. he starts as a literal demon and ends a human. he gets better, he falls in love with humanity (*castiel fan in me sobbing again*) and he chooses over and over to be good instead of bad. his whole arc is a classic redemption arc, and every single beat just gets better. he chooses selfishly to side with humans but in the end it turns out to be the best decision he could have made. because he develops emotions, he develops compassion, he develops a moral compass. 

and his end reflects that. because to complete this arc of a demon becoming more human… he literally becomes human!!!! it fits so well. and he’s allowed to make mistakes and be happy and gain all that humanity has to offer. this just shows that human!endgame for cosmic beings that become more human WORKS SO WELL (and it shoulda happened for cas and jack that’s all i’m saying). michael went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

eileen

oh boy… this one stings. because they brought her back, used her up, and we never saw her again. eileen was one of the best side characters on the show, and they rarely addressed her arc. she comes onto the show as a hunter seeking revenge, and gets that revenge in the same episode. her s15 arc is focused on what’s real and what’s not, with her relationship to sam admittedly being a central part of her character because… it’s supernatural and women can’t exist without that. but still! eileen grows throughout the show and in the end… we don’t even know what happens to her. it’s as if her arc wasn’t important enough to even glance at. 

it’s as if the connections the boys make outside of each other mean nothing when in reality they mean everything. they prove that the co-dependency is behind them and that family doesn’t end with blood and that real connections can be formed between people that last a lifetime. eileen was a disabled hunter that was shown to still be one of the best in the business, and they didn’t even give her the courtesy of a goodbye. eileen didn’t go on her own terms, and she deserved better.

janet

this is gonna unbalance my list but goddammit janet’s ending was perfect. she was a not-robot, not-girl that should have been incapable of feelings. but throughout the series we get to watch as she learns first-hand about human emotions and processes them. she cares about the humans in her charge and fights for them on multiple counts. 

in the end, we see janet come to terms with both her cosmic being side, and her human side. she never stops being with the “cockroaches.” she sees them all leave, she’s there for them while they’re there, and she also continues to speak her mind and live autonomously. janet was a non-human character done right. she lived on her own terms, and it was beautiful.

some honorable mentions

spn ignored (in the finale) chuck, amara, stevie, charlie, jody, donna, garth, bess, the other angels, claire, kaia, patience, alex, and the list goes ON in favor of focusing on JUST sam and dean. did none of those characters at least deserve a quick goodbye??????

the good place wrapped up multiple arcs i had completely forgotten about in a totally natural and not forced way. mindy, doug forester, (the mushroom guy, i know, it took me a second), pillboy, donkey doug, kamilah, tahani’s parents, eleanor’s mother, eleanor’s friends, chidi’s best friend, vicki, shawn, glenn, simone and so many that i’m forgetting all got satisfying ends that they totally deserved. 

they even fucking resolved FROG GUY’S arc and gave him a real frog. that’s right. frog guy (jeff) had a better character arc resolution than dean motherfucking winchester. 

heaven and hell

obviously in very different vehicles, both shows explore in depth the realities of the afterlife. and lemme tell ya, at the end of the day, one sits a whole lot better than the other. 

the good place finale ends this quest for the perfect afterlife by saying that everyone can improve and that an eternal paradise shouldn’t keep you from eternal rest. they pretty much make me wish that this is what our afterlife looked like. they handle everything with care so it’s balanced precariously in a way that doesn’t give you anxiety looking at it but instead fills you with peace and faith in humanity. 

supernatural addresses this series long battle between heaven and hell by creating a heaven where you drive for forty years without seeing the people (cough cough cas and jack not his parents) that matter to you and drink beer that tastes like shit. a place you can’t be happy or find any sense of peace until your brother has died and he’s there too.

and hell… well they barely even address it. there’s a new queen of hell i guess? but so what. it’s still very much heaven and hell in a way that’s the worst and hey plus to them… makes me wanna stay alive thank you very much. oh and purgatory is in shambles and not functioning properly cuz all that eve bullshit.

loose ends

whenever something is ending, you gotta tie up the loose ends. not in a “oh, we must wrap everything up and leave no stone unturned” kinda way but in a “wow, we should probably try to make this unambiguous because this is the last time we will ever see these characters” kinda way. 

the good place does that. so fucking masterfully. all these side plots with all these different characters were taken care of all while focusing on the main six characters. we get to see how their intervention has changed everyone else. for example, mindy’s arc is wrapped up perfectly, with eleanor going to save her.

plus different running jokes like “take it sleazy” are wrapped up, we revisit really old callbacks like the original neighborhood, and all of it feels natural and in the moment. it feels like full circle in a way that doesn’t erase growth. 

supernatural, on the other hand, left a million loose ends open. what happened to the boys they saved? where the fuck are jody, donna, etc.? did eileen make it back? cuz sam was pretty upset about that. what happened to it “being loud” in the empty? hell, what happened to the empty? what happened to hell? what about chuck? it woulda been nice to see just for a second what became of him. did charlie and stevie make it (i’m very invested in that relationship)? if we’re taking the original ending… why the fuck is jimmy there? did kansas just all,,, die? 

i’m not saying they needed to address everything… but god a few wrapped up storylines besides the brothers wouldn’t have hurt

coloring

can i just… real quick… as a giffer lodge a complaint

the good place has beautiful vibrant coloring in the finale

spn has like bland washed out whatever the fuck that is coloring. it’s not even the dark early aesthetic cuz they dropped that it’s just… ew. so. do with that what you will. 

conclusion

first… while writing this i realized just HOW MUCH it’s not about destiel… like believe me. i knew i wasn’t just pissed about destiel. but holy shit it’s not destiel at all like did i even mention destiel that much???? this was never about a ship. this was just a trash finale. 

in the end. the good place writers knew what they were doing. they knew their fans, they knew their characters, they knew their world, and they knew how to wrap it up in a way that was satisfying and sad and perfectly fit the tone of the whole show. it wasn’t out of character or rushed, basically every loose end was tied up without the audience even realizing that’s what they were doing, and i feel happy and complete having watched it. 

the supernatural ending was a betrayal. flat out. to the audience that has stuck by it in a way bigger way than the good place fandom. to the characters that have helped so many people. to the actors that have given so much of their lives. to the other members of the crew, to certain writers… all of it was just a slap in the face.

we deserved better guys. there are better endings possible. so i’m sorry. i really am. but i guess… that’s what fanfic is for, right?

[hargrove-mayfields]

the tags on your football Billy story about autistic kids not being allowed to play sports, gave me the idea of Steve with autism not being allowed on the basketball team and how Billy and maybe Tommy if you want since you write kegboys sometimes would react

It doesn’t take Billy long to notice him, the benchwarmer boy who sits on the sidelines, never getting his shot in a single game, just riding the bench with a smile on his face.

At first he sort of pegs it to mean the kid is just really not good, maybe riding the tails of his daddy’s sportsmanship legacy, but then Billy realizes something, that this kid doesn’t even get to play at practice.

He shows up and he sits there like being excluded is the happiest he’s ever been, and the only time he ever has the ball in his hands at all is if it’s to toss it to one of the boys on the court when it rolls to him.

Despite this though, he has his very own jersey. Number zero. Harrington.

Billy asks Tommy after practice once who this mysterious jersey kid is, and he smiles sort of tight, like maybe Billy shouldn’t have asked him that, and tells him, “I’ll introduce you.”

Tommy walks over to the kid and tells him something that makes him light up, jump to his feet and follow Tommy back over, “Billy, this is my best friend, Steve Harrington.”

Steve just sort of waves, so Billy jumps straight into it. This kid intrigues him and he wants to know more, “There a reason you don’t play, Harrington?”

In response he shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of his way too big basketball shorts, “I’m not allowed.”

“Why not? You fail some test or something?” Billy tries to ask lightly, not noticing the way Tommy’s face scrunches up before Steve drops a bombshell on him instead, “They don’t let special ed kids on the basketball team.”

And if that’s not bad enough, Tommy then adds, though significantly more bitter than even Steve is, “Or on any team for that matter, whether it’s sports or clubs or debate, you name it. School board denies every last application.”

“Oh.” Billy frowns, totally dumbfounded, his school in California never had any issues with that, “Oh that- that’s bullshit.”

“I know.” They say at the same time, prompting Billy to ask, “They don’t even have like, a separate team?”

“Not enough kids would do it.” Tommy says, and he gets a sharp look from Steve, who corrects him quickly, “Not enough kids could get permission to do it.”

“But that’s such bullshit.” Billy repeats, not very helpfully.

“Nothing we can do about it. We’ve tried everything. Not even momma Harrington could convince the school board, and let me tell you, that woman is scary.”

Steve elbows Tommy for that one, and Tommy laughs softly, throws an arm around his shoulder, but Billy is thinking, biting the corner of his nail in concentration, “Why don’t we start our own team?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s face scrunches up, and he turns to Tommy, like he doesn’t trust what Billy says, so Billy continues, “No, I’m serious. School says you can’t play for them, so fuck ‘em. There’s courts in the park, I have a ball, and I’m out there half the time watching my little sister anyways. Let’s start our own team.”

Tommy answers for him, “Practice takes up too much time. We’re not gonna be much of a team unless we’re going to be playing at night or in the winter.”

“Then we quit the tigers.” Billy shrugs, like it’s obvious.

Instantly Tommy narrows his eyes, “Very funny, man.”

On the other hand though, Steve looks at him with awe written all over his face, eyes wide and spelling, “You’d really quit for me?”

And Billy, he plays it off like that look doesn’t make his heart melt, claiming, “For you and for Max who’s been talking my ear off about how much she wants to play soccer and whose heart is going to break when she finds out she can’t.”

Convinced, Tommy looks over at Steve, “If you’re in Stevie, I’m in too.”

Steve seems like he’s considering his options, drumming his fingers on the outside of his thigh, occasionally humming softly in thought, and it’s making Billy impatient.

“So?” He asks, to which Steve nods a confirmation to his offer, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Tommy cracks a crooked smile, holds out a hand for Billy to shake, seal the deal, “You’ve got yourself a team, Hargrove.”

They decide not to give their little team a name, the idea of being called something feels too exclusive, which was the reason they’d all quit the school's team in the first place. Billy had gotten in big trouble when his dad found out he quit for wasting their time and money on basketball, but that was all bullshit anyways, games were only usually a half hour long and were free to get into for the players family, and the school paid for the uniforms.

But that was what he said and what he’d been going to punish Billy for until they found out about the reasoning behind quitting, after which Susan was flattered he cared so much about his little sister, and he got his permission to freely go down to the park and play with the “special” kid.

Neil of course didn’t care about him doing it for Max, he was just concerned with Billy’s public image. Playing ball with the richest family in town's dopey son did nothing but good things for the way their neighbors saw him, so he’d allow it.

A few weeks into their games though, which are mostly just playing HORSE or teaching Steve how to do trickier shots since no coach ever would, Billy has to bring Max along because nobody was going to be home and she wasn’t allowed to be by herself. It’s a dreary day so there aren’t many people around at all, so he decides he’s going to loosen her leash, and walks her over to the playground (that they can see clearly from the courts, he’s not that irresponsible.)

He teasingly offers to push Max on the swings or lift her up to the monkey bars, making her roll her eyes and proudly declare that she’s not a baby anymore, so he chuckles and leaves her be, walking back to the basketball hoops.

Tommy and Steve are just sitting on the old wooden bench just off to the side of the court, waiting for Billy to get back because he’s their little impromptu coach and they can’t start without him, but he notices that they’re sitting awful close together, and between them, Tommy’s hand sits slightly on top of Steve’s, pinky fingers linked together.

Now he knows these two are affectionate, he couldn’t even count how many times Tommy picked Steve up after he made a good shot or ruffled his hair and smiled at him when he messed up, but that was all just friendly affection.

This was different though, he could tell it was from the way Tommy’s eyes snap up and he pulls his hand away, the both of them looking away from each other guiltily.

He feels a little something like jealousy in his chest, or maybe it was just anxiety at the fact that they’d been so obviously holding hands in the public park, but either way, he just kind of freezes up, looking between their two terrified faces until Tommy’s turns angry, standing from the bench so fast the old rusty things creaks loudly and Steve has to cover his ears.

He grabs the front of the baggy jersey Billy wears from his old school's team, the bears, and gets right up in his face, sneering, “You gonna say something, Hargrove?”

And Billy’s not afraid of Tommy, he might be mean, but he’s on his toes to threaten him, and he’s pretty sure they both know Billy would win the fight anyways. He’s not going to fight him though, and he makes that clear, putting his hands up as a clear sign of not going to sock Tommy for yelling at him, “Secrets safe with me, dudes. You go down, I’m going down with you.”

Tommy doesn’t get it though, because he growls, “Right. ‘Cause all that matters is what will happen to your reputation after giving up your precious sport just to hang with a couple of fags, right?”

“Tom.” Steve snaps, but he gets ignored, Billy arguing over him, “Actually, no. You know all that talk about queer kids flocking together without even knowing? That doesn’t come from nothing. I out you, it’s putting a target on my back, and from there it won’t be not long before a little birdie tells the wrong person the right rumor and we’re all dead.”

“Oh.” Tommy says softly, his face falling.

Billy nods sarcastically in response, “Yeah, oh. So let go of my damn shirt before I find a reason to punch you in the face.”

“Can we just play basketball?” Comes a timid request from behind them, so Tommy lets go, wipes his hands on his shorts, and answers him, “‘Course we can, Stevie.”

It doesn’t take long for them to get bored though, none of them are really in the mood to play after that. They play a small game that’s pretty much just Tommy blocking Billy the whole time, but after he shoots the ball they all just let it roll, none of them caring enough to keep the play going. So instead, Tommy offers up his place to hang out there.

It sounds at least better than this, so Billy drops Max off back at home, making her promise not to do anything stupid to get them in trouble until he gets back later that night, and heads straight to Tommy’s like they planned.

The whole drive he’s worrying that they’re gonna pissed at him and beating himself up for not just pretending like he didn’t notice, to the point where he almost just drives right past, but Steve waves at his car from the front window, and he can’t do all this petty angry shit to him.

Tommy’s house is empty for the night, so that means two things, that they’re free to drink as much as they want, (smoking’s a no go though, the smell is too strong and makes Steve upset), and that Steve sits right on Tommy’s lap like it’s nothing.

Which, it is nothing. Billy just told them he was gay too, and now they don’t have to hide from their best friend, so it’s common sense that they wouldn’t.

But Billy, well, he wouldn’t say he’s jealous watching the two of them together, it just makes his chest burn every time they touch or laugh at some joke and whisper amongst themselves like he isn’t even there, or when Steve kisses Tommy’s cheek.

Yeah no, there’s no pretending, Billy is totally jealous. He’s had a thing for Tommy since like, day one of practice when he bounced a basketball back in his own face trying to show off, and Steve for just as long, yearning to know more about the pretty faced mystery kid who turned out to be a total sweetheart and won him over. It’s tearing him to shreds watching them just being happy together without being a part of that.

He wonders if these small town boys have ever even heard of having more than one partner other than like, mormons, and if they haven’t, how is he supposed to bring it up without sounding like a total weirdo. Maybe he could claim that he was just trying not to be left out since they were probably the only queer kids in Hawkins. Or maybe not and Tommy would try to kick his ass again for even trying.

He doesn’t have to do much wondering though, because as pointedly as he’s trying to ignore them, Steve keeps getting closer to Billy on the couch until he’s sitting in his lap, and Billy has to ask, blue eyes going a little wide, cheeks flushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the sunburn he’d gotten at the park earlier, “What’re you doing Steve?”

“You included me. Now I’m including you.” Steve hums and leans his head on Billy’s shoulder, holding eye contact with Tommy.

To say that Billy is flustered and doesn’t know what to do with himself is more than an understatement. He'd like to say he’s not the most inexperienced one here, but it’s not looking good, because he’s flushed as red as a tomato, and the only thing he can think to say is just, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy says and smiles that big goofy smile of his, a playful imitation of their little argument from before, “And I’d much rather you kiss me than punch me.”

[yandere-dark-cupid]

Yandere alastor from hazbin hotel if that is ok?

It's okay, T.Angel.💜❤💜

Yandere Alastor:

Yandere type: Charming, Possessive, Violent, Manipulative, and Sadistic

How you guys met can end in many different scenarios. Maybe you're a citizen of hell that caught wind of Charlie's hotel; and decided to go there for the false humanity that's called "redemption", Maybe you're a desperate human that's facing the harsh, ugly hardships of life and made a foolish decision to summon the all powerful 'Radio Demon' since you heard he can make deals and can be of assistance for your rather tough life, or maybe you're some type of poor creature that was chosen ( by the man himself ) to be a certain Deer demon's prey. Whatever it is,...Babe..Honey..Sweetie, Darling, ANGEL....Please do understand..you are Totally, Royally FUCKED the moment he's noticed you.

Like I said, the moment Alastor has met you; it's all over. But you don't know that yet. He's already twisting gears in his mind to make you HIS. That being said; Alastor is going to put his Smooth, Charming persona on, to sway you to him. So at first instinct you're gonna fear him ( believe you're gonna, it's natural ), but to me I believe you're going to be drawn to him in away. And Alastor knows he has that affect on people ( he's also smug about it because it'll be easier on his part/ but harder on your part ). So he knows you're going to be his in no time. All he has to do is use his natural charm on you and it won't be long before you fall for him, but if you are hesitant or resist his charm he'll have to amp up his charm even more ( and possibly intimidate you even more ) to get you to comply to him.

Then after that, the outcome all depends on you. If you fell for him then, congratulations you just saved your self from a kidnapping ( but the kidnapping will be used later though ). If you didn't fall for him by now ( which is kind of weird since you should have, he made sure of it ) and you're still hesitant and is still too afraid to acknowledge only other feeling other than fear..well...all I just got to say is....I hope you like getting chased down and kidnapped by a psychotic, homicidal bambi. Just to get this straight T.Angels; even if you do fall in love with him and pledge yourself as a loyal partner, he's still going to kidnap you. It's just going to take longer ( but that's if you do fall for him ). Never forget Alastor is naturally a possessive creature, and as a yandere it only gets worse.

Once Alastor has kidnapped you, escaping is the equivalent of the impossible. A little reminder that Alastor is an Overlord from Hell, a powerful one at that. It shouldn't be to no surprise that he has connections, many of them. But if you do some how managed to escape his heavy secured manor ( I believe he owns a manor, it's my own little headcanon ), then ooooh booy I hope you like games; because ready or not here he comes, because Alastor has came out to play. It's like a sick game of hide n go seek with a murderous deer, Cat and mouse, Predator and prey. Yes he has connections, but he's one of the small handful of yanderes that won't use his connections(... Yet ). No, Alastor wants you to think you got away or has a chance of getting away. He thinks it's so cute on how you are holding to that little bit of hope, so he can rip it away and tease you after towards. Then after that the real "fun" will begin.

By "fun" I mean punishments. Takes great joy and pleasure in that you think you could escape him. But he takes even greater joy and pleasure into giving you the penalty afterwards for attempting to escape. At first he'll go easy on you ( this was your first escape attempt after all ), he'll chip away at your confidence and self-esteem. And it will hurt you mentally and maybe emotionally, and when pain ( from you or anyone, but mostly you ) comes pleasure to Alastor. We all know Alastor is a Sadist ( EVERYONE KNOWS ALASTOR IS A SADIST ), so while he's punishing he'll with most disturbing "happy" smile on his face ( No wait, he always has that smile on his face ). Now if you escape a second time, expect to be not only talked down but to be smacked around too. Now first escape attempt he went "easy" ( if being easy means having your confidence and self-esteem being cut down to nothing in a slow painful process, then yeah Alastor has been going easy on you ) on you, so on your second escape attempt he will get physical with you ( and not in away you want it ). If you're bold and try to escape the third time, you will be hit around radio/ microphone cane ( thing ???) and talked dow too. Now if you're still bold and still think that you have a chance of escaping.. Oh... Oh Angel, May the Lord above have you in his good graces and may he have mercy on you, because Alastor on the other hand; will NOT in 6 rings of hell will have mercy on you. You see on your fourth FAILED escape attempt, Alastor will get.... crafty. It'll be like your first failed escape attempt all over again, but instead of him just searching for you by himself; Alastor will use his Demonic powers too ( and at that moment... You.Are.Fucked Angel ). Now to those that know, Alastor powers revolves around shadows, portals, tendrils, and deals ( or as we know of right now ). So when When Alastor puts that out to play, it's basically the equivalent of one man hide n seek ( If you know what that is, give yourself a pat on the back ). But this time Alastor will give you a 1-2 hours head start. Once your time is up, he and his shadows will come looking for you. And It's hella scary. But like I said before Alastor likes to take his sweet time and make you think you got away or have a chance of getting away. And as time pass by agonizingly slow, you know Alastor is still out there looking for you and like to take his sweet time. And since you've been with Alastor for a while or at least for some time to know him, you know Alastor will take his time and get himself railed up. So basically the more time you spend away from Alastor from escape, the more eager Alastor is to punish you. So Once Alastor has found you and like I said he's getting crafty with with this punishment; Your mind will be broken down into nothing, you'll be tossed around by his tendrils, and thrown into a portal and Alastor will let his shadows handle you. Not only that but He ordered them to leave a few marks, as a reminder to never cross him and never leave him.....

So after all the failed escape attempts and being mind broken and having your spirit broken, the molding process will begin. It was fun; having you run away, hunt you down, and break you down to nothing. It was truly adrenaline filled and it kept Alastor's blood pumpin. But in the end every yandere would want a seemingly docile submissive darling. And surprisingly Alastor is no different. And now that you know that you are his and only his and your place is only by his side; Alastor is going to praise you. You're finally being the good little Darling your supposed to be. Not only that but Alastor is going to shower you with love and take you places. Ooooh he can't wait to take you to his radio station, or to go out dancing, or OR maybe he'll take you to the hotel to see his friends and colleagues. But beware, you may have this new found "freedom"; but Alastor has a sharp eye on you. And to be completely honest with you, part of the reason why Alastor has given you this "freedom" is to mock you and wave it in your face. So in hindsight, you're still trapped with him. And if you are not truly broken and take this new found "freedom" as an option to escape, the game will start up again and Alastor will happily break you for REAL this time. You are his after all, ain't ya?........

Bonus ✨✨✨:

Since Alastor is both Aromatic and Asexual, that won't stop you from being in a relationship. In fact, the both you will be in a queer platonic relationship. So you guys can still be together. Alastor will love to plant kisses on your hands, hug you ( though he'll have you in a possessive, and almost bruising grip ), and over all be close to you. ( Since I don't know where Alastor is on the Aromatic and Asexual spectrum, I'm playing it safe and trying to keep it as platonic as possible. )💜💚💜💚

Like I said before Alastor would to take you out dancing, and will love to do the swing with you. So if you're a darling that specializes in dancing or just like dancing, saying Alastor will be happy is an understatement. He'll be absolutely ecstatic! He'll just love to dance the night away with you ❤💃❤

Another thing I said, Alastor will take you to his Radio station. And with him being a Radio host he'll ask you opinions and sometimes questions. Alastor will like to have a talkative darling or a darling that likes to ramble on certain topics. To some it may come of as weird or annoying, but to Alastor he sees it as cute and charming ❤📻❤

We all know Alastor is a Overlord from hell, and one of of the most powerful out there. So if you think someone will help you, you are dead wrong. Once everyone knows your the property of the Radio Demon, no one will much even look at you. If anything they'll avoid you like the plague, So they know your off limits and knows what's good for them. So no one would dare or has the balls to go against Alastor, anyone with a brain would know what's coming to them if they do. But If someone was brave and kind enough to help you ( more like ignorant and naive ), they are the equivalent of a dead man/ woman/ person. If you watched the pilot episode, you saw what happened to Sir Pentions the same thing will happen to them; just far more worse. So you might as well kiss that help good bye Angel( that's if you get help that is ), because it won't last long. 💀💀💀

Sorry your ask took so long T.Angel. But I hope it's to your liking. Well until next time my Little Tainted Angels, see you soon ~💜❤💜

[thotsforvillainrights]

Howdy! I would like a Match-Up? 👀

•I'm queer, genderqueer (though I also use the label "gendervoid" interchangeably) and my pronouns are fluer/void/it (not in ordered of preference). My fashion leans towards androgynous and masculine.

•I am 5'0" and fat. I am blond and have blue eyes. I wear glasses.

•I am kindhearted, shy, introverted, and heavily procrastinate. I am also overly-empathic, though I don't forgive easily and can be petty at times. I am easily amused and will laugh at most things. I struggle with reading people's emotions and can be extremely dense with stuff like crushes.

•Enjoyer of cuddles and physical affection as long as I am aware of it before it happens (suprise touches can be a bit overwhelming most of the time).

•Lover of reading. Favorite book series of all time is Percy Jackson and I'm currently reading Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo.

•Favorite animated series at the moment is The Owl House (highly upset at the cancellation of it).

•Lover of cats. Though I also really like insects (and spiders), snakes, and bats as well as other creepy crawlies.

•Knowledgable of music theory. Current favorite music artists are Mitski and The Arcadian Wild.

•Lover of writing though I have a nasty habit of starting a story, abandoning it, and then starting another story. I do get frustrated at myself for this though.

•My favorite video games are Red Dead Redemption 2, Minecraft, and Unpacking. Though while I have never played it, Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch has a special place in my heart. I also enjoy watching people play video games.

•I occasionally struggle with derealization and moments of paranoia. Most of the time I can ground myself, but sometimes I do need assistance.

•I highly suspect that I have ADHD.

•When someone tells me about their struggles my immediate instinct is to give them advice/solutions on to fix their struggles even if it might not be the right call.

•I heavily dislike unexpected change or change that isn't caused by me. Lover of routine and the constant everyday.

•Comfort food is spicy chicken sandwiches. Comfort drink is water.

•The cryptid I only actually care about is Mothman, but I don't believe he is real (unfortunately).

Hopefully this enough info!

(Got it all down!)

Match-Up #16

-I match you with Geten-

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-The two of you really wanted nothing to do with each other when you met. It was because of Re Destro that you two are a thing today. When it first began, the old man had upset the both of you. You were working for Detnerat for about 2 years and Geten…well I’m sure we know the length. You’ve interacted but ONCE or twice the entire time you’d been there. The both of you displayed your own versions of shyness and introversion. Re Destro noticed how calm Geten was with you on both of those occasions compared to his usual demeanor with the others. You were very kindhearted and he knew that would do a world of good for Geten in the long run. And wouldn’t you know it? That old man got a lightbulb in his head and decided right away that he could play cupid. He basically forced you to be with Geten on work projects for both Detnerat and the Liberation Army as a whole. You were already upset considering it was a change in your usual routine, and Geten was upset having someone teamed up with him. He said he didn’t want to be seen as weak or having needed any help with what he was doing. You can imagine the delight in Re Destro’s eyes when you two had finally fallen for each other. It only took about a year or more lol.

-He’s really hot and cold in the relationship. He says one thing but really means something entirely different. You suspect that he’d be a God at opposite day! Although he claims he wants nothing to do with silly romantic gestures, the ice gremlin is lying. He’s capable of giving you a wide variety of space but he tends to get lonely. Although he won’t speak on it, he’ll definitely show it when he trudges into the room and silently demands cuddles with you. If it were up to him, he’d cuddle with you 24 hours straight really. It’s not like you’d mind considering you tend to procrastinate. Don’t worry, he’s good at helping you manage that...in a mean way sometimes but don’t take it personally if he tells you to get off your ass and work. This might happen with your writing if you choose to abandon it and he finds out. I swear it’s only coming from a place of love with him.

-Night and Day with the two of you. Your overly empathic personality was fully different from him. Where you wanted to pour yourself out to help others, he often gave an ‘every man for himself’ speech. Even during arguments you displayed your kindness to him, which made him guilty and apologize first (it’s up to you if you forgive him). Sometimes when he was too stubborn to apologize, you got petty with him. He told you multiple times that being too soft could make someone see you as a target. That boy probably did nothing good when it came to your paranoia. At the same time, he liked it when you were soft with only him. He often caught himself smiling when he watched you laughing at some dumb joke he would’ve otherwise deemed not funny. He finds himself smiling when he watches you enjoying your favorite media whether it be books, music, or video games. (If you’re lucky, you might be able to get him into a few) In fact lately he’s found himself smiling a lot more with you than he’s ever done in his life. 

-He’s clumsy at love and you’re his first so please be patient with him. He still learning to navigate the waters raging and crashing around within his heart and mind when he’s with you. He may not know how to or when to romance you on a surprise date or when to late out roses with lit candles for you. However, he does know when to make you feel seen/heard when you gush about a cute cat or insect or something! He knows to pirate those episodes of your favorite show for you (fuck you HB*M*x). He knows how to give you peace while you focus on your gaming or when you’re watching your favorite content creators play said games. He knows when to put on your favorite songs while the two of you take on household chores together. He knows how to clean your glasses when they get a little dusty, and he knows when to gift you your favorite snack when you’re upset with the day. He knows exactly how to love you, and for anyone that should be enough.💗

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Pro-variation vs. pro-selection culture

Evolution requires three things: some form of information that’s inheritable, some way to create variation from that information, and some way to select what information will be passed on to future generations. In biological evolution, of, course, we all know what these three things are: genes (information) can mutate (variation) -- well, it’s more complicated than just mutation, but this isn’t a biology lesson -- and those that are worse at surviving and reproducing themselves are of course naturally weeded out through cause and effect (selection). But other things -- art, culture, language, science, technology -- evolve as well, and they all need the same three things.

When it comes to variation and selection in things like culture and politics, there’s a sliding scale of which one people think is most important -- whether they’re more pro-variation, or pro-selection.

People on the pro-variation end of the spectrum tend to view diversity as a positive thing and selection as something that will take care of itself, or even something to be actively suspicious of because of its tendency to cause harm -- a rainbow queer community, an education system available to people of all cultures and economic backgrounds, country borders that are as open as practical, and embracing a diverse array of art make a community stronger, and things like gatekeeping, means testing and heirarchies on ‘what counts as art’ should be abandoned unless there’s a really good reason for the selective process to exist, in which case it’s grudgingly tolerated. To pro-variation people, exclusion and oppression within a community are threatening. Pro-variation people recognise that yes, you’re going to get some freeloading drains on resources and obvious money laundering schemes masquerading as terrible art and a few people pretending to be gay for a few years to look more interesting to their straight friends, and this is largely a non-issue, a perfectly acceptable price to pay for a diverse and fair world.

People on the pro-selection end of the scale tend to view selection as the main means of advancing or healing a society, and see diversity as something that will take care of itself and as something to be deeply suspicious of. Gatekeeping, unequal opportunities and financial heirarchies are needed to sort the what from the chaff and make sure everyone does their best (”capitalism breeds innovation”); initiatives to redress inequality and give minorities or poor people an ‘unfair’ advantage or make it easier for outsiders to enter the country should be abandoned unless there’s a really good reason for their existence, as they’re dragging down the ‘deserving’ and polluting the culture. To pro-selection people, contamination or invasion from outsiders is threatening. Pro-selection people recognise that yes, you’re going to lose some talented geniuses in sweatshops and stop some deserving people from achieving success and bully some LGBT people out of the community to face abuse and oppression alone, but this is largely a non-issue, a perfectly acceptable price to pay for an advanced and fair world.

“Oh, Derin, you’re just talking about left-wing vs. right-wing philosophies.” Sort of, but not really. It fits the stereotypes and common arguments to a T, but one can’t assume that all righties are pro-selection or all lefties are pro-variation. I have met pro-variation righties, although I’m not really sure how. And there are leftie TERFs out there, despite TERFism being an undeniably pro-selection philosophy. I find determining where people sit on the variation-to-selection scale to be a lot more useful for communication than left-to-right.

I say this because often I’ll see pro-selection and pro-variation people talking to each other, and notice that they’re having fundamentally different conversations. For example, let’s look at the issue of meritocracy. Most modern people would say that meritocracy is a good thing, but ’meritocracy’ means a fundamentally different thing to pro-selectionists than pro-variationists.

A pro-selectionist, when conceiving of meritocracy, tends to think in terms of, well, selection; devising a system where the strongest (those that excel in whatever the thinker thinks is important; innovation or determination or whatever) rise to the top and gain special privileges and power over others, that they can use to determine the rules and make life better for themselves and their children, elevating society as a side effect. To the pro-variationist, this is absolutely not a meritocracy. “You’ve built a system whereby those who don’t start out with more, those who are born poor or disabled or underprivileged in some way, have to work way harder and be lucky in order to get anywhere than those born lucky. People don’t get ahead on merit in this system because the playing field becomes drastically uneven after a couple of generations. This is not a meritocracy.”

A pro-variationist, on the other hand, would concentrate on making sure that everyone has a fair chance at exercising their skills and getting ahead. They’d focus on making sure that people had the space and security to exercise their skills and that, when it came to supporting the society to make that happen, those with more contributed more. To a pro-selectionist, this is absurd. “So those who have pulled ahead and succeeded are being penalised by having to give more? That’s the opposite of a meritocracy! That’s a system designed to drag the best down!”

I find this framework useful in explaining a lot of weird political quirks of certain subcultures. TERFs and tradwives, for example, are theoretically political opposites, but in practice their logic sounds almost identical to outsiders, sounding rather a lot like standard right-wing talking points and Fascism Lite. This is because they’re all using pro-selection arguments. To a pro-selectionist, the arguments of these groups look very different -- “we’re saying that X kind of people are good/virtuous/victims, and Y kind of people are bad/oppressors/sinners, which is the exact opposite of what the other group is saying!” To a pro-variationist, the fact that they are making literally the same argument makes them identical -- “you’re still putting people in your little ‘keep or cull’ boxes for exactly the same reasons, you just wrote different names on the boxes to keep or cull according to your personal taste.”

I think a lot of the things associated with right-wingers could be more accurately associated with people on the pro-selection end of the spectrum in general. It’s known, for example, that right-wingers tend to have a more sensitive disgust reflex and, as a consequence, be generally more xenophobic. You can see this in the way xenophobes talk of making room for outsiders; they talk of invasion, contamination, infection, hygeine, purity. LGBT exclusionists, lefties and righties, talk in the same sort of language. So do antis.

It’s also notable in the sorts of innocuous-seeming things that such people get really angry about. Right-wingers and authoritarians are known for their trend of an almost comical hatred of modern art. The idea that anything can be art, or that art can be measured on any level that isn’t strict complexity and realism of paint and sculpture, causes a surprising level of dislike in such groups. (See also arguments like ‘what is a video game’, ‘does this even count as a game’, althoughpeople thankfully seem to be bored of that now). Exclusionists are equally renowned for campaigns against inclusive terms like ‘queer’, and TERFs get obsessively nitpicky about people’s genitals to a really creepy degree and get very uncomfortable when you mention the ‘grey area’ in biological sex. This is normally assumed to be just dislike at people challenging their arguments, but I think it’s deeper. I think it’s like the modern art thing. Any kind of radical inclusivity is threatening to pro-selection thinkers, not because it’s a challenge to their rules and definitions -- they can have those arguments perfectly comfortably -- but because it is an attack on the very concept of meaning. “Words mean things! Groups exist! You can’t just... just get rid of groups and open up categories to include more people without putting them through a serious, rigorous proving ground first! You can’t just call anything you want to ‘art’, you can’t just call anyone outside cisheteronormative expectations part of the LGBT community, you can’t just call people men or women based on how they feel! That’s chaos! How can any progress be made if we just decide words don’t mean anything??”

(I also think this is a much-overlooked aspect of the same-sex marriage debate. Yes, most of that was garden-variety homophobia, but I’ve known a lot of people who were perfectly fine with ‘the gays having equal rights’, they just didn’t want it called marriage. To a pro-variationist, having the same legal language for partnerships regardless of the sex or gender of the participants is really important -- it’s a shield against future discrimination as the laws relating to either marriages or civil partnerships change over time. To a pro-selectionist, changing the definition of words related to fundamental cultural activities is a huge deal. “They’re eroding the very meaning of marriage! Chaos! How much more will the word change? Can people marry animals or cars next?!”)

As I said, this is a spectrum. I’ve met very few people who are on either extreme end -- even the most pro-equality liberal anarchist acknowledges that some standards of behaviour, community responses to inappropriate action and definitions of different communities do have to exist, to protect people, and the most hardocre fascist admits that there needs to be some measure of generating diversity to avoid stagnation and extinction. And people’s default reaction isn’t necessarily their position on all issues -- somebody who’s generally pro-variation might feel specifically threatened by immigration and think a strict proving ground for immigrants is necessary, or someone who is generally pro-selectionist might think that a robust social system is necessary because one’s economic status at birth has no bearing on one’s merit or value. But I’ve always found it to be a very useful general model.

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet uglies, sternclay 60 sfw? OwO

Here you go!

60 Sterncly SFW. we’re both on a reality show (like the queer bachelor) where we’re told to be friends but the first time we met, you were incredibly rude and judgmental and I don’t know if I can do this for the damn cameras

“So, Barclay, now that we’re a few days in, what’s your impression of the other contestants?”

“They, uh, they all seem like great guys. We come from a lot of different backgrounds, so that’s kind of interesting to be around but, uh, I live in a place that’s like a big, chosen family, so being in a house with a bunch of types of personalities is kinda, uh, homey.”

“There’s no one you think you’ll struggle with?”

“Uh. Well. I, uh, I don’t like Joseph too much. He came in and he’s so, like, phony from all the years in the FBI. It’s like he’s trying to be polite and charming but really he thinks we’re all idiots for being here. Which, like, buddy, last I checked you signed up for this the same as the rest of us.”

------------------------------------------------------

“Joseph, any worries about the other contestants?”

“No. I mean, we’re competitors on a dating show, not enemies. I think we’re all trying to show Vincent the best versions of ourselves.”

“There’s no one you’ve had conflicts with?”

“........I, um, Barclay and I got into a small argument earlier about the house rules. But I’m sure if we both stick around long enough we’ll come to an understanding.”

----------------------------------------------------

“Gentlemen, this cannot continue.” Ned, the producer, sits on the couch across from them. Barclay glares at Joseph, but the other man keeps a cool demeanor. Great, he’s making Barclay look like the big, angry mountain even off camera.

“I thought reality shows needed conflict to thrive.” Joseph cocks an eyebrow.

“They do, but about big things, like love and rivalry. Not how to properly load a dishwasher.”

“I’m just trying to be efficient.”

“My way is perfectly fine.” Barclay snaps, “jesus, I worked in kitchens for years, I know how to get clean plates.”

“That doesn’t make it optimal.”

“Do you have to be right about everything?”

“Gentlemen, you recall we have a housekeeping staff, right?”

“It doesn’t matter” Barclay doesn’t take his eyes off Ned, “we’re supposed to all get along, not all try and prove we’re the smartest guy in the room.”

“See, this is your problem, you need everyone to like you, to see you like a big brother, but you’re missing the fact that at least three of them have decided your gentle giant persona is a threat and they’re trying to oust you.”

“It’s not a persona, it’s just how I am. We aren’t all government shams disguised as men.”

Joseph’s facade cracks for a moment, blue eyes trying to light Barclay on fire.

“Enough.” Ned shakes his head, “you may despise each other as much as you please behind the scenes. In front of the cameras, please try to act as if you’re not ten seconds away from coming to blows. Agreed?”

They trade a final, furious look.

“Agreed.”

------------------------------------------------------

They’re a little over three weeks in; Vincent is still doing lots and lots of short, individual dates between the group outings, so the contestants have ample time to hang around the house and get on each others nerves.

Case in point: Joseph was right when he warned Barclay that others saw him as a threat. Chad, Alex, Nico, and Rich have all decided to go after him. Just this morning he’s been told he’s not man enough for Vincent (he shooed a wolf spider out of the kitchen with a broom instead of squishing it), too girly (he offered to make cupcakes if people wanted), and too big (who'd want to fuck a six foot tall puppy).

His mood is not helped by Joseph chatting away on the couch about his former job with the FBI. Barclay swears it’s all the asshole knows how to talk about. Maybe it’s time for Barclay to play a game of his own.

“Hey, Joseph.”

The other man turns, black hair perfectly slicked back like he thinks he’s some kind of movie star.

“I bet you ten bucks you can’t make it until eight tonight without talking about your job.”

The other contestants in the room snicker, several even giving Barclay a thumbs up.

Joseph adjusts his shirt sleeves, “You’re on.”

Ten hours later, Barclay is forced to get his wallet. The other man never mentioned the FBI once. In fact, he did Barclay an even bigger favor; he didn’t talk at all.

He finds the agent sitting on the back steps leading into the garden. Stays standing as he holds out the cash, “you win fair and square.”

Joseph looks at the money, then looks away, “I did it to show I could, not for the bet.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to go, uh, quite so hard on the silence thing.”

“I didn’t mean to. But, um, every time I was going to open my mouth, I realized it was somehow related to work. So I kept quiet.” He sighs, stretches out his legs. He’s in slacks, because of course he is, “I must have been so tedious to listen to, no wonder I was driving you up the wall.”

“Joseph-”

“I really am married to my career. I guess it’s not surprising my last chance for love is on a T.V show.”

“Hey, I get it.” Barclay sits down next to him, “when I was first working in commercial kitchens my hours were crazy; I barely saw my apartment, my friends, my boyfriend who pretty quickly became my ex. But it was what I needed to do to build the career I wanted for myself. To do what I loved.”

Only the crickets and the distant waves reply. Then, “You said you were a private chef now, right? Along with writing cookbooks?”

“Yeah. Kinda surprised you remembered.”

“Listening is a major skill in my profession. Besides, it’s polite to pay attention to what people tell you.”

“What’s your job now? You only ever talk about the FBI stuff?”

“Paranormal investigation. I never bring it up because people assume I’m out chasing Bigfoot with a shaky-cam or trying to communicate with haunted dolls.”

“So...what is it instead?”

“Helping people figure out they’re homes aren’t haunted or the monster on their property is just some owls. I like the challenge of solving the mystery, and I like helping people feel safe in they’re homes.”

Loud voices form inside; the caterers must have refilled the bar. He doesn’t really want to go in. It’s too nice out here.

“You wanna hear about the restaurant my coworkers swore was haunted?”

Joseph perks up, turning to face him, “Yes, please.”

-----------------------------------------------------

He’d been really looking forward to beach day. Six guys are already gone, and Vincent has taken his fleet of suitors to the sunny San Diego shores. Barclay is dismayed to find all but three of the other guys have waxed their chests. Joseph hasn’t, but his happy trail is nothing compared to fucking black forest on Barclays torso. Nico’s gotten half the guys to call Barclay “bigfoot.”It makes him feel like he’s back in high school P.E freshman year, and his body image is rapidly sliding into that of a shy fourteen year old.

“Barclay!” Joseph comes jogging out of the surf towards the towels they lay down side by side when they arrived, “you should come in, it’s really the perfect weather for swimming.” He drops onto his towel, black hair a bit mussed. The swim-shorts that he thought were blue with green spots turn out to have not dots, but tiny UFOs on them.

“I, uh, I’m good. I, uh, I burn easily and I don’t think anyone wants to rub sunscreen on my hairy back.”

“Hey, Bigfoot, what’s wrong? Scared of what’ll happen if the cameras get a load of your gut?”

Barclay growls, stares at his toes. Joseph tracks Nico as he finishes jogging by. Then he calmly picks up a frisbee, aims a throw, and knocks his snapback off his head. He’s sitting down before the other man can work out who threw it. Barclay chuckles, but doesn’t get up.

“Bigfoot’s my favorite cryptid.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“And who gives a shit if you have a stomach.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re cut.”

Joseph grabs his sunglasses, “because I like that for my body. I happen to like yours just as much. Um I, I mean, it seems like Vincent likes it.” He tips his head towards the Bachelor, who gives them both a long once-over.

“...Will you do my back?”

“Of course, big guy.” The nickname sounds so right on his tongue it makes Barclay want to set his head in his lap and ask him to pet it.

It’s late afternoon when Ned herds them all onto a boat which promptly steers towards some cliffs. Joseph stays close to Barclay, pleasant expression noticeably tightening the closer they get to the rocks.

“I’ve been dreading this. Cliff diving is not something I’d pick to do on my own.”

“Heights?”

He shakes his head, “Deep water. I know it’s not rational, and I even checked to be sure there hadn’t been large shark sightings in the area, but I can never shake the feeling there’s something waiting just out of sight, ready to surge up and eat me.”

They all climb up together, Vincent staying on the boat to watch them jump (this is technically a friendly competition to show off how brave they are). As they’re turns get closer, Barclay sees Joseph doing deep breathing exercises.

They hit the edge. The agent freezes.

“Shit. I don’t think I can do this.”

“C’mon, where’s my daring special agent?”

Joseph still doesn’t move.

“You, uh, you wanna jump together? Maybe the megaladon or whatever will eat me instead.”

“Megalodons are extinct; we’d know if they weren’t, same as we know Whale Sharks aren’t.”

“They you are.” Barclay murmurs, smiling.

Joseph manages a smile back, “On three?”

“Yep. One, two” he grabs Joseph’s hand “three”

The water rises to swallow them with terrifying speed, but nothing is waiting for them except one very startled fish. They surface together, Joseph laughing triumphantly, hair plaster to his head and sun shining in his ocean eyes.

If Vincent doesn’t pick him, he’s out of his mind.

--------------------------------------------------------

“Ohmylord, we have to play this.” Joseph cannot believe his luck; he figured the barcade group date would mean a lot of solo time, but here’s his favorite game in the whole wide world.

“Monster Hunt?” Barclay laughs as he lets himself be lovingly shoved down into the seat of a cut-out Jeep, “very on brand.”

“They had this at the bowling alley near my house. I’d play when my parents had league night but couldn't get a sitter. I never could beat the Mothman level without a player two.”

He doesn’t have that problem tonight, even with Barclay distractingly delighted and handsome in the seat beside him. After that, they make it their mission to find every two-player game in the thrum of flashing colors and tinny music. He finds they both like the Bowser Bourbon Smash, and somewhere around their fourth, heated game of air hockey they each polish of one too many of them to stay upright without the support of a game, a helpful show staff member, or each other.

When they get back to the house (their fellow contestants all in a similar state to themselves) they manage to make it to Joseph’s room before collapsing into a giggling heap on the bed.

“That, hic, that was fun. Games are, hic, fun.” Barclay blinks at him, “what’re you laughing, hic, at.”

“You, you got the hiccups. S’funny because you’re so big, like, like watching a, a pitbull with a, um, a” he makes a squeezing motion that his sober self would recognize as “squeaky toy.”

“M’not big” Barclay pouts, “I, hic, maybe everyone else is, hic, just small. Ever think of th--hic--at.”

“S’not a bad thing.” Joseph shifts so they’re facing each other, “like how big you are. Makes you sexy.”

Barclay blushes, “you’re, hic, one to, to talk. You’re hot, so, hic, so fucking out. Got, got those eyes. That, hic, that face” He touches Joseph’s cheek, “love your face.”

“Love yours too.” Joseph says, stroking his beard. Then they’re moving in inelegant tandem, grabbing at each others shoulders and faces as their mouths find each other. Barclay is so warm, whimpering when Joseph rolls him on top, nipping his lips and pawing at him like a puppy hoping for a treat. Joseph is going to hold him close and let him have it.

A clatter from below, one of the other men knocking something over in the kitchen, breaks the spell.

“Wait, wait” Joseph reluctantly slides his hands of Barclays ass, “we, drunk, we’re drunk, too drunk.”

Barclay blinks down at him, pouting a little even as he groans “fuck, you’re, you’re right. Wanna, gotta remember this. Don’t wanna” he yawns, “regret it.” The instant he flops onto his back Joseph climbs into his arms and falls asleep to the slow rhythm of his breathing.

-----------------------------------------------

After that night, they agree to be more careful; they’re here for Vincent, to see if one of them is his true love. That’s what the contract they signed says.

“More careful” turns out to mean watching their alcohol intake around each other and only touching platonically (including falling asleep on the couch together. They wake up to cameras recording their nap. Barclay isn’t sure what Joseph threatens Ned with, but the footage never sees the light of day).

But unless they’re on a solo date with Vincent, they’re by each others side. Barclay teaches Joseph dominoes and how to make biscuits. Joseph introduces him to terrible old horror movies that they watch on his laptop and compliments his cooking every chance he gets.

They must be doing something right, because they move to the next round week after week, Vincent clearly enamored with both of them. Barclay certainly understands the feeling. Just not for the person who he’s supposed to.

“Joseph? If, uh, if neither of us win, what are you gonna do after this.”

“Go back to work. Maybe pitch my book about U.S cryptids.” Joseph’s smile goes shy for a moment before recovering, “but I wouldn’t worry, big guy; I think you’re the front runner for sure.”

Barclay knows for a fact that Joseph is a fan favorite and the suitor most people think will win. Which is why, when Vincent selects his final four, he’s not surprised Joseph gets the first rose. Then everyone but Barclay is holding one and Vincent is touching his shoulder.

“Barclay, please don’t take this as a sign I’m not deeply fond of you. This wasn’t an easy choice but I, well, I feel like your heart may not be in this anymore.”

He takes Vincent’s hand and squeezes it, “It’s okay. It was wonderful just to get to know you. All of you.” He looks at the final four, at Joseph’s calm, polite expression. He meets blue eyes as he says, “I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that he turns, all too aware of the cameras tracking his exit, his face, how he’ll have to do a final interview and not reveal that he’ll hate Vincent forever but not blame him in the slightest if he marries Joseph.

“Wait!”

Every eye, lensed or no, turns back to the gazebo. Joseph is at the edge of the steps, poised to run. When he sees Barclay stop, he turns to Vincent.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.” He hands the bachelor the rose, “I hope you understand.”

There’s no soundtrack on set, but strings swell in his ears all the same as Joseph descends the stairs and leaps into his arms, kissing him so hard he still has stars in his eyes when he opens them.

“It’s not a marriage proposal” Joseph whispers, kissing his cheek, “but I do have a question for you.” He pulls back, all cameras on them but his attention for Barclay alone, “would you like to be my boyfriend, big guy?”

Barclay rests their foreheads together, “Yeah, babe, I really, really would.”

[gunterfan1992]

Interview with Half Shy (the songwriter of “Monster”)

For the last few months, I’ve been collecting information for a second edition of Exploring the Land of Ooo that will also cover the production of Distant Lands. This means that I’ve started to look into the new songs that we have been graced with this year, and this of course includes “Monster,” the beautiful track from the masterpiece that is “Obsidian”. And so I reached out to the song’s writer, Half Shy, who was kind enough to chat with me via email about the songwriting process!

(Photo courtesy of Half Shy)

In many ways, Half Shy is living the creative Adventure Time fan’s dream: She got asked by Adam Muto himself to write a song for “Obsidian” after he heard her music through Bandcamp! (I’ve dabbled in fan music before, and the fact that someone from the show might listen to it just blows my mind.) What an opportunity; I am so excited for her!

Since a second edition of my book won’t be coming out until after all the Distant Lands episodes air, I thought it would be best to share my Half Shy interview now. Read on for the fascinating behind the scenes story of how Half Shy and “Monster” came to be..

GunterFan: What is your origin story? How did you get involved in music, and how did the Half Shy project come to be?

Half Shy: I’ve been making music pretty quietly since I was in high school with a keyboard and guitar. I played one or two shows a year after college when I could find a friend or my brother to get up on stage with me, but I don’t really have that performer gene in me naturally. I get too much in my head and forget what the lyrics are to the song I wrote, or what the next chord is. Total brain freeze. So that whole experience is a bit of a mental drain. It’s something I think I’d like to dig into and figure out, but right now I’m really enjoying the time writing.

Even playing a song for my friends I still get pretty nervous. That’s where the name Half Shy comes from. I’ve always been interested in making things that by their nature draw a bit of a spotlight, but at the same time, I am just really quite nervous about the attention.

I recorded my first songs under my old name Hey V Kay in my bedroom and started putting them up online one at a time. When I got enough I thought about packaging it up into an album, but then got really distracted by learning how to fix up motorcycles and going to automotive tech school. When I eventually got back around to it I named the album Gut Wrenching.

After a few years I realized that I didn’t want the day-in-day-out life of a mechanic, I just wanted to know how to fix cars for myself and to have that knowledge in my back pocket. I got back into making music but grew frustrated at the process of writing and recording songs. I felt like I wasn’t able to capture the ideas I had in my head. Like trying to draw on your computer with a mouse. Doable, but it’s not going to come out like you’d hoped.

So these last couple of years I’ve focused more on learning the technical aspect of it, from the initial ideas and lyrics, to the recording and mixing. During that process I put out Bedroom Visionaries, and while writing I happened upon the name Half Shy in an old Thesaurus which felt instantly right. Learning all of that has been fun, I even went as far as to create my own book to solidify a daily writing routine (lyricworkbook.com). All that has been a bit of a tangent from actually making much music though. I should be getting my books in December from the press so I’m really looking forward to getting back into making more music instead of dealing with printing presses, setting up websites, and sourcing ribbon suppliers.

GF: What is the story behind "Monster"? How did the show get in contact with you?

HS: I keep a log of “Song Starters” with neat things I’ve heard in the world, and I would look through it every now and then and notice just how many came from Adventure Time. Eventually I thought well, I have to make a song about this show that just keeps breaking my heart. It was around the time I was nearly done with the first [Adventure Time-inspired] song “In My Element” that I got an email from Bandcamp saying “someone bought your album (Bedroom Visionaries).”

I get maybe one or two of these a month at most so I love to go in and say hi to the person and say thanks, be curious about who they are, [and] what they’re all about. Turns out it was Adam Muto, the executive producer of the show. (I asked and he has no idea how he happened upon my stuff. He guessed that I must have tagged something #adventuretime and he just happened to see it.) So I sent him an email saying, “Hey wow thanks for checking out my tunes. Also... holy crap you’ve made the best show I have ever seen in my life.” [I] played it real cool like. After finishing up writing my second [Adventure Time-inspired] song “Betty” I couldn’t help but fangirl real hard [and I sent him another message saying], “I’m sorry this is probably awkward, but I really love your show and I wrote these songs about it.” He was incredibly kind and shared them with his Twitter Universe, and a while after that I got a random email from him saying basically, “Hey, I’m working on this thing I can’t talk about, would you be interested?” I was like… well you know I’m pretty busy working at a sign shop so I’m gonna have to pass on this once in a lifetime opportunity (J/K. Obviously I fan-girl squealed and said yes immediately).

We chatted a bit about what the project was going to be and the direction. He mentioned there [would be] two Marceline songs in the special, [and he asked if I] would I be interested in giving the love song a try? Trying real hard to suppress my instant imposter syndrome I was like, “Yea, totally I’d be into giving that a shot!” So I read through the story and loved the idea of the dragon mirrored in Marceline, thinking through how they’ve both built up a protective shell, how she grew tough for a reason, but now she can open up and be vulnerable with PB.

From there I wrote the initial demo with the first two verses mostly intact and we went back and forth a few times editing it down into the final version. I recorded the final parts for the show in my little home studio in Seattle.

GS: When you were writing the song, what emotions, thoughts, or ideas were you channeling? Was there any sort of memory of event that you were trying to artistically "catch" or "recreate" with the lyrics or music?

HS: As far as channeling an emotion, generally I’d say just the experience of existing as a human. It can be so hard to open up and be vulnerable. I can remember that feeling even as a young kid—getting really excited about something and having someone completely trash it or look at you like, “Why are you so interested in that? It’s dumb.” [It causes us to grow] a little more weary to share ourselves because we know that hurt and embarrassment. The pain of being misunderstood is something I think a lot of us can relate to. Then having to decide whether to keep sharing those vulnerable parts of yourself or think, “They’re just not going to get it, I’m going to get hurt, so why bother?” and then stop putting yourself out there. You lose a lot with that thick armor though. You might feel protected, but you’re not feeling a whole lot of anything else other than the weight and chafing of it (I had a whole lot of armor-related metaphors that I didn't end up using.).

I struggle with this in songwriting too. I’m not the bolt-of-lightning type. There are pages and pages of cliches, total garbage, bad jokes, and cheesy lines that I have to get through in order to get to something that I am excited to put out there into the world: “Here I did this thing, I know it’s a little (this or that), but I made it... What do you think?” It’s hard to open yourself up to hearing the other end of that question.

I filled about 5 little pocket notebooks just thinking through the story, ideas, and trying to get this song right. I wanted it to feel familiar and honor the past songs of the show ([e.g.,] using the ukulele and referencing a few of the familiar chords from “I’m Just Your Problem”) but also be pretty open and vulnerable and different for [Marceline]. [I wanted to] show that she’s going through some tough emotions but also figuring herself out and growing.

GF: I feel like “Monster” is, at its core, an ode to the “Bubbline” ship. How do you feel about your song being intimately connected to one of the most famous LGBTQ+ relationships in animation? Do you have any general thoughts on Marcy and PB, Bubbline, etc.?

HS: Oh, I’m a total fan girl of Bubbline. The whole story of how Rebecca Sugar and Muto slowly morphed it into this deeper relationship is just great. As a part of the LGBTQ community myself it really means so much to see the representation of characters like yourself portrayed in an intelligent way. Growing up I was too young to fully understand what was going on but I saw Ellen getting cancelled, and [I] heard people around me saying they’d never watch her show again after she came out. That stuff sinks in as a kid and so to have these characters who are not only intelligent, but funny, complex, and unapologetically strong who also happen to be queer is really great. I love that the story here isn’t about their orientation, but that they’re people struggling with how to be open and vulnerable in a relationship.

It feels like something sci-fi and animated shows do so well—to show that ridiculousness of limiting who a person should and shouldn’t love. Marceline is a 1000+ year old half-demon/vampire and PB was born from the Mothergum of an apocalyptic radioactive world, but you’re going to get hung up on them loving each other? It sort of brings it into perspective in a really interesting way.

GF: Do you have any other thoughts about the experience that you'd like to share?

HS: Just how lucky, thankful, and honored I feel to be a part of my favorite show, writing a song for one of my favorite characters. It’s also incredibly cool how the people on the show are so willing to connect and collaborate with their fandom. Everyone [on the production crew] was very open and a real joy to work with.

I’d like to give a huge “Thank you!” to Half Shy for agreeing to participate in this interview; she really was quite amiable! If you’d like to hear more of her music, check out her website and her Bandcamp. You can also follow her on Instragram here and on Twitter here. And of course, here is Half Shy’s awesome video of “Monster”.

[that-stone-butch]

Hi can I ask for some general advice? I’m femme and single and every day that I don’t have a lovely butch in a leather jacket smooching me is another day wasted. I just want a older butch to call me sweetheart, change my oil, and roll us a joint while I make them dinner while wearing a pretty dress so when I bend over they can see I’m not wearing anything underneath! Is that so much to ask!! Where are they?? How do I flirt with butches when my friend turns into Silly Putty around hot women?

Or, more specially, how would YOU like a femme to approach you/ask you out/express interest? Granted, most of it is online at the beginning, cause there aren’t very many if any queer spaces in my area that are open, and even then they were 97% gay men anyway. I’m very much a bottom and a sub so being the one to break the ice and get the ball rolling is very strange and difficult for me, but I also know that a lot of butches can be shy at first so I gotta Just Do It. Help me Jasper, you’re my only hope….. to get laid.

I'M your only hope? oh NO! i'll do my best! obviously i'm not every butch but i'll do my best to bring my perspective into this. i've never participated in hookups and casual sex, all of my flirting experiences have been geared towards building a relationship. but for the most part, i'd wager the 'showing someone you're interested' credits transfer. on that note, if anyone has input on more casual experiences, i genuinely invite them to add on to this post.

okay so it seems like we should separate the advice into online flirting, and irl flirting. let's start with online.

it's always better to make a good first impression rather than come on too strong, in my experience. start with a compliment, keep it light and respectful. in general, i find that the best compliments are things that someone *chose*. as someone who gets constant online 'compliments' (spoiler alert it's actually catcalling), i'm NEVER flattered when someone opens with talking about my body. 'your jawline is incredible' isn't the ice breaker it sounds like; maybe i'm self-conscious about my jawline! you don't know, you're literally introducing yourself with this. like so many people compare me to men and male actors, and they think i'm going to take it as a compliment? the very POINT of opening with a compliment is that you DON'T know what people do and don't like about themselves. maybe you like tall girls, but just because you do doesn't mean the person you're interested in is proud of the fact they're tall. ESPECIALLY in trans and gnc spaces, you just don't know what relationship strangers are going to have with their own bodies, and opening with that is just going to display a level of entitlement that is a bit of a turn-off, personally. so compliment people on things they chose, like their attire or aesthetic or tastes. it's really flattering to hear someone say 'hey, i also like that thing you *chose* to make part of your whole deal.' from there it might be the case that someone likes and enjoys hearing compliments about things they didn't necessarily choose, but you really should test the waters first.

additionally, compliments like this break the ice because it's also a thing you would say to a friend? it's my experience that good relationships always grow from good friendships. even if your conversations don't end up in a relationship, or casual sex or whatever, you can still end up with a friend which is a great thing (butch/femme friendships are something we don't talk about a whole lot as a community, because we focus a LOT on sex, but they're life-changing like my femme friends make my fucking day). it can be difficult online to make your intentions known; you don't have the subtext, body language, all the things that help you further communicate your intentions in person. that's why, online, it's good to make your intentions known after you've built up a good rapport with someone. strike up conversation, find things in common, and after a little bit it's perfectly respectful and okay to tell someone you're interested in them. however, and i cannot stress this enough, do NOT be vague about your intentions online. at least in my case, it's very easy to misinterpret people over text. (who am i kidding, tumblr is the internet capital of people misinterpreting each other). be plain about your intentions. from there you might talk logistics, trade phone numbers (use encryption! use signal!), agree to focus on building a friendship together, part ways, etc. get to know people, ask them questions about themselves, show them you're engaged and interested.

i want to take a second here, especially for younger people reading this, just because someone is gay and/or you're into them doesn't mean you should be unsafe with your information. play it close to the chest, if you're going to meet up meet up in a neutral location. DON'T meet people from the internet in your home, or theirs. exchanging addresses is something to do well after you know you're in a safe situation. ALWAYS be ready to bail. be safe.

as for in-person, i'm sorry to say but in my experience you ARE likely going to have to make the first move. for a lot of butches (and femmes) being out and about is kind of a gender battleground. the LAST thing i want to do is make someone uncomfortable, especially as a masc woman. a misread signal can be dangerous. additionally, i want to say you should NEVER hit on someone who can't leave the situation. never hit on someone just doing their job (unless they're stating very clear intentions toward you from their position. it's sometimes okay to flirt *back* with people on the clock, but still give them space to back off) because you're putting them in a VERY uncomfortable situation.

in-person flirting for wlw is kind of fraught with some difficulty in that you need to signal that you're gay. for me, as a butch, if someone hits on me and they don't signal very hard that they're gay, i'm left wondering if they even knew i was a woman. i've had straight girls hit on me, it's the weirdest fucking thing. now, i'm not equating femme presentation with looking plausibly straight or whatever femmephobic brainrot is floating around out there, femmes ARE gnc and do so in a unique and beautiful way. but being wlw, especially what feels often like a 'gender outlaw,' you're often plagued with self-doubt. sometimes it's easier to believe you're misreading someone as gay and they were just being friendly (or just being friendly AND are gay, as i said earlier that happens and that's a GOOD thing).

i find, in person, it's a good idea to open with a compliment that specifically recognizes someone's butch presentation. if someone says 'i love your hair, by the way' i'm IMMEDIATELY in blush mode. it feels so good to be recognized when i'm out and about, when so many people just decide i'm a man to validate their own worldview, or think they have to compensate for my presentation, assure me no i'm pretty i look very feminine, to validate me as a woman. meeting someone in-person, that you're interested in, it's validating and refreshing to just be seen and shown that someone's interested in the way i'm putting a lot of effort into presenting.

that said, never push people. if you see someone at a coffee shop, campus diner, bookstore, etc. that you're interested in, as with online it's a good idea to aim to leave a good impression. chances are, you might see that person again. i'd rather have someone see me, flirt a little, and then approach me *again* the next time they see me, then go all-in intense the first time. obviously it's smart to play it by ear but if you feel like you're coming on too strong, it's a good idea to back up a little. but that's just me.

above all, remember to have fun with it! flirting is fun, and if you're trying to tactically align your flirting with someone too hard toward a relationship, it kind of loses a little something? i find it's usually a good idea to approach people with the genuine intention of making a connection, and seeing where that takes the two of you, rather than trying to *get* someone to reciprocate. keep it fun! keep it light!

i hope that helps! i'm sorry i don't have more experience, if anyone has something to add, they're welcome to!