#but if we're going to discuss 'realism'

[bangtide]

everyone that makes fun of fans writing yoongi in fics as a bacheloresque disaster 20-25 y/o subsisting on cursed eating habits as if it's "unrealistic" owes me $300, and here's payday

[metamatar]

communist from the periphery here. i think insisting upon defeatism from imperial core communists is silly. "israel will fall" is not "manifesting" it is a statement of support of the resistance, especially the palestinian resistance. it is an acknowledgement of the inherent contradictions of the occupation. it's clear you tumblrites have not spoken to a single palestinian the way you cast this glib cynical outlook on all discussion of the matter. praxis and hope are not mutually exclusive, and i challenge you to mobilize people for a cause that you are loudly proclaiming is dead in the water

realism and hope are not mutually exclusive, and im sick of this pretence that we should not acknowledge the fact that it has been a year of losses – from hospitals to the destruction of rafah border crossing to the expansion of the front to lebanon.

this ask going on about just talking to a palestinian and a childish challenge to actually mobilise blah blah is genuinely like detached from reality. i challenge you to keep people organised for a year while you do not acknowledge the obvious fact that your movement has neither the numbers nor the plans and has a long way to go. nobody, not even iran who has after months of eating israeli aggression finally thrown a missile barrage at airbases and hit nothing has stopped us from watching a genocide for a year in our homes. even when mobilization succeeds the actions it is directed toward do nothing to move the war machine. the left in both the core and periphery has been damnably disorganised and ineffectual. communism requires recognising where we are in this particular moment, this is not the time to acknowlege the inevitable end of israel due its inherent contradictions and letting it soothe you. israel must be stopped by us. israel will fall lets us disclaim that responsibility. the palestinian resistance needs more than our statements of support and urgently. and if we're competing for aphorisms, this is my pessimism of the intellect. my optimism of the will is not packing it in regardless of how dire it has gotten.

[mactiir]

sword misconceptions pt 1: longsword

Post series: shortsword | rapier | buckler | dagger | spear

so as I'm getting back into fantasy lit as a historical fencer, there are a lot of things I am noticing cropping up in swordfights that are inaccurate or flat out wrong. So i wanted to write a post for my fellow writers putting down a few things I've learned in 2.5 years of swinging the actual weapons around!

Disclaimer: i am not an expert. Additionally, many of the historical terms for weapons were not standardized (there was no "one" longsword/rapier/shortsword etc when we're talking about a weapon that existed for hundreds of years across an entire continent) so what I'm discussing under the cut is specific to the late medieval/early Renaissance European two-handed weapon with a simple hilt/crossguard and with a blade length around 3 feet -- what D&D calls the longsword, or in older editions the bastard sword (although if we want to get picky about it, bastard swords should have shorter handles than longswords -- but I wrote this post as a writing reference so names are beside the point. you can call the swords whatever you want in your story, anyway).

Misconception 1: longswords are heavy.

Older editions of D&D had these weapons at 6 pounds, which is about 2x too heavy. 5e has them at 3 pounds, which is exactly right. Your average longsword is between 2 and 4 pounds, and a well-made one will be balanced such that you barely feel it. Pound for pound, they are heavier than almost all one handed weapons (except some rapiers but we'll talk about that later), but between their balance and the fact you wield them in both hands, their weight is likely not going to be a prohibiting factor for most characters. Everyone who can pick up a wooden baseball bat can pick a longsword up and swing it. A weak or out of shape character will struggle for wielding it for lengths of time, though.

Misconception 2: longswords are slow.

You're 1) thinking of a zweihander and 2)zweihanders aren't slow, either, but we'll get to that later. Longswords, wielded properly in both hands, are lightning fast, with a skilled fencer that's opened their opponent's defense often able to land 2-4 hits before a director even registers the first hit and calls "halt". And there are two components to speed: actual velocity, and distance. Longswords are -- well, long. Even if you can't swing it as fast as a little knife, the fact that it's three feet long means you're closing to target much faster compared with a shorter weapon, because you don't have to do as much footwork to get into, or out of, striking range.

Misconception 3: you can wield a longsword in one or both hands.

I mean, you could. But a one-handed wield robs a longsword of a lot of its dexterity, grace, precision, and yes -- power. You want two hands on this thing. Your dominant hand goes closer to the crossguard and it's what generates your power and edge alignment. Your offhand on or near the pommel is where your dexterity and fine steering is. Switching or removing either of these hands feels weird and you are also way more likely to get disarmed just by trying to parry with one hand.

Misconception 4: swordfights are about dodging.

You have two realistic options when someone is swinging a longsword at you: parry or step out of range. You do not duck. You do not jump. You do not sway, roll, or do backbends. All of these things will 1) rob you of necessary structure to riposte, 2) leave you wide open for a renewed attack or remise, and 3) leave your most important tool for not getting hit -- your SWORD -- too far off target to help you. Yes, all of these things look super cool and may fit depending on your style and setting. But if you're going for realism, YOU PARRY.

Misconception 5: you can be fast or strong but not both.

Ok, this is more a pet peeve about martial arts in general but: you cannot be fast without a certain base amount of muscle. You CANNOT. Small people with no muscle are slow. They have to take huge, looping cuts to compensate for their lack of muscle and leave huge openings while they do it. Small people who do well at the sport are often very quick because they have to train the heck out of footwork to outwork bigger opponents, but that only comes with TRAINING. It's not a "small people are automatically dex builds" thing. And while big muscly guys are often slower, they also 1) have less distance to move to close to target, which makes them "faster" even if they are moving a tad slower and 2) they're also often fast as balls, so you can judge virtually nothing about an opponent based on their body type except for their reach. A good, big longsword fencer will often have really fast handwork because most don't do well in longsword fencing without speed.

Let me know if there are any lingering questions I missed! I may think of more later, but I hope this was helpful for now :)

[deconstructivesurgery]

I saw someone online recently discuss the reality of Wesker not killing Chris or Jill permanently in any of the RE games because

A) as per usual, long-running series hate to kill their darlings, even when it would occasionally be a believable or satisfying death (plot armor, because people would get mad and mald if their faves were killed by the Villain(tm) they're supposed to shoot dead)

and

B) "well REALISTICALLY it would be SO easy for wesker to kill them because of how strong/fast/etc. he is so point A is the only believable and acceptable answer because obviously they couldn't have killed Chris or Jill off"

and like no dude I get it totally you are right. I can't even argue that you're incorrect you 100% are. I could rightfully argue that realism doesn't matter when it's far more enjoyable to NOT have Chris or Jill dead, especially when their deaths would serve no real compelling narrative purpose except (:() HOWEVER

If you're willing to hear me out, there's an explanation for Wesker never entirely killing either of them for reasons that turn plot armor into something as simple as believable characterization.

Nostalgia. Literally. Just. Nostalgia.

He avoids killing them outright because once upon a time, these people meant something to him. He saw WORTH in them, valued them, possibly even to the extent of finding it difficult to try and sacrifice them initially (something I am going to go ON about in another long ass post soon enough). TLDR: He was attached.

Long ass post underneath if you want to hear me blather on about why I think this :)

After his initial failed attempt to have them all killed because Umbrella commanded it, I'm not surprised he simply settled for toying with them for the most part. He doesn't need to, and more importantly- doesn't want to. He can never have their allyship back, but he can still see them in action. He can best them, sure- but why would he kill them when he still savors those interactions, when they clash? Why would he destroy the last pieces of a past he's attached to to the point of bringing it up constantly up until his death?

I've always found it funny how many lines Wesker actually has referencing the past. You were my best man, your 'partner' (said snidely in reference to an era where they were in the same squad) is in danger, I should've killed you years ago, etc.

And just the line. The fucking line. From the Umbrella chronicles. I'm not even going to retype it I'm just putting it here.

I understand, by the way, that he's being sarcastic, but I do genuinely believe there's a grain of truth in this. I think he does in fact want to see them survive.

Side note: What with his appraisal of their skills and his direct use of Jill's own blood later to temper Uroboros to make it less fatal, I love to make the mental stretch here that somewhere in his little ape brain he was hoping if infected with uroboros both would be "quality" enough to become like him. I think his ideal future still has them kicking around in it, viable hosts for uroboros mutation so they could join him in his new Minecraft server for cool people.

ANYWAYS tangent aside back to the nostalgia argument, on an individual basis this time. We're starting with Jill, because even though Wesker isn't an obsessive freak over her like he is with Chris, I still firmly believe he's attached to her as well.

Why else would he do what he did to her, after her presumed death via falling-off-a-cliff? Sure, you could argue it was simply a calculated decision based on the fact that he knew her blood would be useful, but I like to think of it a bit differently.

You crash into the rocky water below a tall, tall bluff, battered beyond belief- but quickly repairing yourself- and the body of another (probably also fucked up by that impact, and not capable of immediately fixing that) next to you. I don't think even Wesker would be doing mental math in his head at that very moment, considering the precise reasons why Valentine might be valuable to him down the line. I think he just automatically assumes he needs to take her with him because it's her. She gets dragged out of the water and slapped into medical care as quickly as he can manage it simply because she's an important part of that past he refuses to move on from. A part of the team. Then, she's a useful source of antibodies to help with the transformation of uroboros- but she's also a brainwashed bodyguard, something of a sidekick. Why? He could hire someone. He could use anyone. If she was useful for samples alone, he could've kept her in a cell for years to intermittently steal a few ounces of blood. But of course he wouldn't, and he wouldn't kill her or dispose of her otherwise, either- because Jill Valentine was skilled and strong and a dedicated team member, and maybe- just maybe- it's nothing short of satisfying to have her fighting at his side again, even if it's a facsimile of their old team dynamic. Plus, you know: bonus points that it'd horrify Chris to see his best friend and beloved work partner of many years through thick and thin working for him, when they inevitably clash again.

And then, of course, there's Chris. He beats him senseless only to piss off over very mild retaliations, promising to meet him again. You've probably heard a lot about that before. I could go on about that. But what I'd rather go on about instead is the one time he clearly determines that killing Chris for good is necessary, and that's in RE5.

...And look at how he talks during that. He brings up the "should've killed you years ago" thing- and fails to explain why he didn't. It wasn't due to any failure on his part, truly. He's beat Chris in combat several times, he's had the chance before and refused to take it. He asks Chris why he can't *understand his plans*, as if somehow expecting that there'd be a chance that he WOULD understand- and then what? He wouldn't need to kill him? Could get him to be a part of this new world he has planned, even?

Going over the times he could've killed Chris and didn't is fun, but I don't think anything illustrates my point of unwilling attachment and nostalgia for the past more than his gambit of literally asking "why can't you understand this" to the man he's actively attempting to bludgeon upside the head with virus tentacles, because he'd much prefer it if he didn't feel compelled to do that.

...so yes. At the end of the day, it's plot armor that prevented Chris from getting snapped like a stick during one of their brawls, or from Jill being dead after her cliff stunt, probably. But it's always going to be more fun- to me at least- to see it as the product of Albert Wesker genuinely not knowing how to let go of those "lovely stars members" (a line I think about way more than I should).

[0809sysblings]

Amane, indoctrination, and gaslighting

and why voting Amane innocent would be the best course of action

I've been wanting to write a big post on Amane talking about indoctrination and such. Because I see takes sometimes that make it clear the person doesn't really... Get It.

Most of what I'll be explaining comes from my personal experiences growing up.

Additionally, most of what I say when it comes to outcomes (i.e. "If x happens, Amane will do y") will be based on the assumption that realism, not entertainment, is prioritized in the writing and that there are no major holes in our knowledge of what's going on. Theoretically anything could happen since this is a fictional scenario and we don't know everything when it comes to the world, the cases, and the characters. Not to mention my situation was nowhere near as extreme as hers. So although I probably have a better understanding of it than most people, I definitely can't claim that I know what she's gone through.

Personal anecdotes I add to better support my points will be in the small font (this!) since I don't want them to distract from the main text and so that they can be easily skipped for those who may be worried about being triggered. But if anyone needs plain text descriptions, I'll happily provide them!

!! TW for child abuse, religious abuse, and cults !!

I recommend skipping my personal anecdotes if more detailed discussions about these topics are a trigger for you.

At the heart of "good" (read: successful) indoctrination is gaslighting.

Since gaslighting has been one of the many psychology terms completely watered down and distorted by the internet, I will define it just so we're all on the same page!

Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation used to make the victim question their own sanity, sense of reality, or power of reasoning.

Basically, you can't trust yourself. You can't trust your thoughts, your feelings, your interpretations, etc. You become completely reliant on other people (usually specific people who are the ones doing the gaslighting) to figure out what's real/true or not.

Toxic/extremist religious groups like to take gaslighting a step further though. Not only do they make it so you cannot trust yourself to judge what is right or not, they may also teach you that what feels wrong is actually right. You can see where this can start to cause some issues lol.

Anything your gut may tell you that contradicts what the group/cult leaders tell you—"this is wrong!", "this is bad!", "I don't want to do this..."—must be ignored. Because those feelings and thoughts, according to the leaders, are actually the sinful part of you trying to lead the good and faithful part of you astray. They make you question yourself to make sure you never question them.

They will figuratively or literally beat this into you until your first instinct is no longer to listen to your gut and do what it says, but to dismiss it and do what it's telling you not to do. Existing becomes a chronic power struggle between your unconscious mind and your conscious mind. Unfortunately, the fact that you're struggling often then gets used against you as proof that you need to follow their teachings. Because if you're unhappy, then you must be doing something wrong. You just need to have a little more faith, dedicate a little more time to the religion/group, go a little harder into your duties... Only then will you feel better—feel more enlightened.

An integral part in making all this work is isolation. If you don't somehow isolate the members, they may figure out that they're being manipulated and abused.

Now, isolation doesn't always mean purely physical isolation (though Amane is being isolated physically to at least some capacity). Psychological isolation is almost just as powerful. An almost universal psychological isolation tactic used by extremist groups and cults is the "Us vs Them" mentality. We can see this being very prominent with Amane. A lot of things she talks about with regard to the cult involves an Us-vs-Them dynamic. There is "Us", the cult, and "Them", everyone else.

Personally, we were taught that those who weren't believers of our religion were out to get us or will, at the very least, get us hurt/killed somehow. We were told many people wanted us dead just for being believers. You had to be careful and watch out when interacting with non-believers; you couldn't trust them. God was constantly testing you via others, and you had to make sure you stayed faithful.

This in particular is why no matter if you vote guilty or innocent, that itself will not actually do anything to change her beliefs. Voting her guilty will not make her start to feel bad and then question her beliefs. Voting her innocent will not make her listen to us and then question her beliefs. If we make her have any doubt about the cult, that's just proof to her that what we're telling her is wrong and is just another "trial" from God for her to overcome. So, changing her beliefs should not be a factor considered when voting since it's completely irrelevant. Everything can be twisted to support the cult. That's just how it works.

I don't think any amount of punishment will make Amane "come to her senses". I mean... what could we possibly do to her that she hasn't already had to endure? Punishment will likely only escalate things even more. Not to mention that having a bit of a fascination with martyrdom isn't all that uncommon in those who have been religiously abused and indoctrinated. The threat of punishment may only serve to motivate her to double down on her beliefs and behavior. Not to say she wants and likes punishment. It's obvious she's both scared of punishment and wants it to stop. After all, that's most likely the motive behind the murder.

Even prior to Amane's age, I was already fantasizing about being a martyr. A part of me almost wanted to be killed for my religion and community. It was seen as something extremely admirable. The ultimate sacrifice, if you will. We were taught that if given the choice between saving yourself by denying your faith or letting yourself be hurt/killed by standing your ground, you should choose the latter. Of course, I also did not want that to happen at all. It scared me shitless. But we weren't allowed to be scared about that stuff. It was seen as questioning God and the religious authorities, which was completely taboo. So I had no choice but to "want" it.

Isolating Amane is the worst possible thing we could do to her. No one gets better from being isolated, and this goes double for people living in abusive environments. She's been isolated her whole life. The best thing for her would be spending time with the other prisoners without restrictions. The more time she spends around people who have no connection to the cult, the better. Trying to argue with those in cults about why they're wrong and why they are in a cult (because most don't even recognize they're in a cult due to the gaslighting, indoctrination, and stigma) will almost always backfire. The best thing to do is to just be there for them to have someone to interact with who is not a cult member.

The only reason I left the extremist religious community I grew up in was because I made a friend who was not affiliated with it. I don't think I would've been able to see that the conditions I was living in were Not Very Good without that friend. He didn't even really do anything to actively help me. Just learning more about the real world through him was enough to make me start looking closer at my life.

To vote her guilty would be to continue isolating her. Not just physically as the guilty prisoners get restrictions put on them, but it's also an inescapable psychological isolation. Innocent vs Guilty is just another Us vs Them dynamic.

I fear that, if she ends up guilty this trial, she will likely be voted guilty again in trial 3. Her aggression will probably only escalate as she feels herself becoming more and more cornered. And since I know many people are voting her guilty solely to make sure she doesn't hurt Shidou or other prisoners, I can only imagine what the voting will look like for her in trial 3 once she's forced to become even more aggressive to protect herself.

And tbh... I can't imagine that having a prisoner with 3 guilty verdicts will make for all that interesting of a story for them. Not that it would be boring, per se. But having variety would, in my opinion, be the most interesting and entertaining! So, if nothing else I've said has been able to sway those who vote her guilty, then think about the entertainment factor!

Please vote this severely traumatized 12 y/o girl innocent. We can give her so many secret cakes to eat.

[cipheramnesia]

hi :) i know youve already answered recs for queer horror movies, but do you know of any more trans horror movies, specifically?

Trans horror films by and staring trans people is pretty thin. I'm not versed enough in the small and indie short film world where I think most of these are likely to be found. The closest I know to a mainstream horror movie with a trans protagonist played by a trans actor is Bit, which is a movie so bad I would have not finished it otherwise. Not recommended.

My most controversial pick is probably going to be Sleepaway Camp 2+3. I've talked about this series at length and it's probably going to in the trans movie discussion for as long as humanity exists. That said, I find trans woman slasher Angela Baker delightful fun. The first movie is a different animal and it's um something.

The Wild Boys is honestly amazing. I don't know if there's a right way to go describing this, but the basic premise is a group of murderous juvenile delinquent boys are shipwrecked on an island which slowly transforms them into women. Women all play the roles of the delinquent boys, creating a strong sense of realism. It's a strange, violent, queer, surreal French film and I would call it a queer horror essential.

Titane wasn't intended as a trans movie by its director, but its also hard not to interpret trans elements in a movie where a woman disguises herself as a man including breaking her own nose to radically alter her face, eventually is sort of taken on as an adoptive son, and never really wholly returns to any feminine roles. Much like The Wild Boys, it's a glorious and surreal movie and another movie I'd consider required viewing.

Boarding School is a whole lot. I'd say it needs some trigger warnings for child abuse, child death, and nazi / holocaust trauma at least. Boarding School is a strange and highly distressing mixture of revenge, ghost story, and child abandonment, all wrapped around a young trans child exploring gender. It's a stunning, gorgeous and dreamlike movie. Not precisely surreal, but paralogical in places.

We're All Going To The World's Fair is by a trans filmmaker! Fuck yes! I wouldn't call it mainstream, and it's clearly on the experimental end of the film spectrum, but it's widely critically acclaimed and has a lot of trans feeling put into. I'd also recommend it for atmosphere and a sort of quiet sense of emotional unrest. Filmmaker Jane Schoenbrun's next film, I Saw The TV Glow has been picked up by A24, so keep an eye out for it.

Bad Things is sort of the inverse of World's Fair, a queer movie staring queer and trans actors, it's, well, fine. For a film with a banger of an idea (The Shining but all queer) and so much queerness in the production, it's shockingly flat, listless even, as if no one wants to be on the set. But, well it exists I guess.

Der Samurai is hard to say if it's intentionally trans, but features a strange gender ambiguous figure in a gorgeous flowing dress who terrorizes a small German town with a samurai sword and seems to be seducing a young, lone policeman through the night. Ultimately tragic in its conclusion, still a beautiful film and dear to my heart.

Lastly, I want to give a shout out to the Chucky movie series. Starting with Seed Of Chucky and going through at least season two, it gets very weird with gender and is very queer.

[topazadine]

Wheatfield With Crows by Vincent Van Gogh

What Painting Style Is Your Writing?

Here's a fun little thing I've been thinking about lately based on a conversation with a friend. While it's not one-to-one, I do think that painting styles can have a bit of a parallel to writing styles, especially when it comes to descriptions.

As a note, these are my own personal categorizations based on writing style. Would the authors themselves agree with these categorizations? Probably not, but that's okay, we're not doing this for them.

I also haven't captured every single painting style in the world here; these definitions are focused primarily on European art, and there are subgenres within each of these. If I tried to do that, we'd be here forever.

Consider this an introduction to the concept of matching your writing style to art movements, a jumping-off point to look deeper and find your perfect match.

Realism

A Village in the Snow by Peder Mørk Mønsted

Key features: Very specific descriptions meant to evoke precise images. May include what seems like irrelevant inclusions in order to give a full sense of place. Real-world settings are often dizzingly specific, whether that is a tiny cafe in Paris or the exact field that's being visited. "Gross" things are depicted with great factualism and an almost dispassionate narration. Dialogue is sharp, and characters are not always likable, but feel very real.

Example text:

His cheerfulness increased, like the creaking of an ill-greased pulley, and ended by degenerating into a terrible spasm of coughing. The fire basket now clearly lit up his large head, with its scanty white hair and flat, livid face, spotted with bluish patches. He was short, with an enormous neck, projecting calves and heels, and long arms, with massive hands falling to his knees. For the rest, like his horse, which stood immovable, without suffering from the wind, he seemed to be made of stone; he had no appearance of feeling either the cold or the gusts that whistled at his ears. When he coughed his throat was torn by a deep rasping; he spat at the foot of the basket and the earth was blackened. Germinal by Emile Zola

Strengths: Creates a very strong sense of place and evokes powerful imagery in the reader's mind, to the point that they feel as if they are actually there. With good realist texts that are based on careful research, the reader gets a strong understanding of the given era or issue being discussed. Great for infusing a text with political, social, or philosophical themes.

Drawbacks: Many times, deep characterization takes a back seat to depiction, leaving readers feeling distant from the characters. There's little internal dialogue. Exhaustive explanations of sociopolitical issues can be offputting to some, as can the careful analysis of things like machinery or history.

Good for: Historical fiction, crime writing, literary fiction

Photorealism

Double Self Portrait by Richard Estes

Key features: Extremely specific descriptions that go deep, capturing every nuance of the scene. This can get even more detailed than realism, to things like the exact models of cars, the street corners, even tiny imperfections of a person's face. Actions are precise and narrated play-by-play. Dialogue is precise and crisp, and characters are very action-oriented.

Example text:

Almost automatically, Bond went into the 'Parry Defence against Underhand Thrust' out of the book. His right arm cut across, his body swivelling with it. The two forearms met mid-way between the two bodies, banging the Mexican's knife arm off target and opening his guard for a crashing short-arm chin jab with Bond's left. Bond's stiff, locked wrist had not travelled far, perhaps two feet, but the heel of his palm, with fingers spread for rigidity, had come up and under the man's chin with terrific force. The blow almost lifted the man off the sidewalk. Goldfinger by Ian Fleming

Strengths: The precision with which the writer narrates things can be incredibly instructive to the reader when used correctly, making them feel as if they are gaining a tutorial in the given subject. It's also great for stories when tiny details really matter, like mysteries.

Drawbacks: If not done correctly, photorealism can feel procedural and boring. Too much focus on the wrong things makes readers zone out. Plots and characterization can get lost in the need for specificity, though they are generally very plot-oriented.

Good for: Mysteries, adventures, crime novels, historical fiction

Expressionism

The Dessert: Harmony in Red by Henri Matisse

Key features: Strong, slashing impressions of an entire area that are focused primarily on the emotion evoked by the setting rather than specific details. Twines feelings with descriptions to make the reader envision their own landscape, as well as how it would make them feel. Characterization is often very strong, giving the reader a very powerful connection to the characters.

Example text:

I had been sleeping, curled up in a red plush seat, for a long while when we reached Black Hawk. Jake roused me and took me by the hand. We stumbled down from the train to a wooden siding, where men were running about with lanterns. I couldn't see any town, or even distant lights; we were surrounded by utter darkness. The engine was panting heavily after its long run. In the red glow from the fire-box, a group of people stood huddled together on the platform, encumbered by bundles and boxes. I knew this must be the immigrant family the conductor had told us about. The woman wore a fringed shawl tied over her head, and she carried a little tin trunk in her arms, hugging it as if it were a baby. My Antonia by Willa Cather

Strengths: With such a good focus on characterization, the reader often feels deeply for the characters. Readers may enjoy the freedom provided to make their own assumptions about the scenes and will leave the text with a feeling of motion, as if they have gone through the same trials as the characters. Great for summoning images of wild landscapes without going too far into the details.

Drawbacks: When done badly, the lack of specificity can make it feel like the writer is bullshitting and lazy. Some readers can feel frustrated by the lack of details. The writer may rely on common knowledge that the reader doesn't have, making them confused.

Good for: Romance, adventure, fantasy

Impressionism

Waterloo Bridge, London, 1903 by Claude Monet

Key features: Similar to expressionism, the writer focuses on a few key details to represent the whole, giving a "blurry" impression that ultimately allows the reader to fill in the details on their own. There is more freedom given to the viewer (or reader) than in other styles, and there's a strong focus given on the feeling evoked rather than the details.

Example text:

So some random light directing them with its pale footfall upon stair and mat, from some uncovered star, or wandering ship, or the Lighthouse even, with its pale footfall upon stair and mat, the little airs mounted the staircase and nosed round bedroom doors. But here surely, they must cease. Whatever else may perish and disappear, what lies here is steadfast. Here one might say to those sliding lights, those fumbling airs that breathe and bend over the bed itself, here you can neither touch nor destroy.  To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

Strengths: Great for infusing symbolism into a story by zooming in on specifics while leaving the rest vague. Often used for philosophical discussions, and may include many asides that ponder the nature of life. Often flows beautifully and is very lyrical. Can leave readers feeling 'haunted' by the questions posed and force them to look differently at the small things that make up their own life.

Drawbacks: Can be longwinded and feel more like a list of details rather than a real story. May feel self-indulgent to the reader, especially if they were expected a strongly plot-driven story. Characters may feel more like props for thought experiments.

Great for: literary fiction, flash fiction, poetry

Surrealism

Ulu's Pants by Leonora Carrington

Key features: Grand focus on unusual settings, with interesting details that make it clear what a strange place this is. Often interspersed with tongue-in-cheek asides from the narrator. Characters are whimsical, vibrant, and distinct, described in bold, sometimes unflattering terms.

Example text:

Great A’Tuin the star turtle, shell frosted with frozen methane, pitted with meteor craters, and scoured with asteroidal dust. Great A’Tuin, with eyes like ancient seas and a brain the size of a continent through which thoughts moved like little glittering glaciers. Great A’Tuin of the great slow sad flippers and star-polished carapace, labouring through the galactic night under the weight of the Disc. As large as worlds. As old as Time. As patient as a brick. Actually, the philosophers have got it all wrong. Great A’Tuin is in fact having a great time. Great A’Tuin is the only creature in the entire universe that knows exactly where it is going. The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett

Strengths: Because of a strong narrative voice, these books often feel like a direct conversation between the author and reader, which creates a very warm, intimate experience. The strange details are memorable and intriguing, making the reader want to delve further into the world.

Drawbacks: When not done correctly, these stories can feel silly, like the author is trying too hard. Details that aren't strange enough may feel melodramatic and overemphasized.

Great for: Fantasy, sci-fi, adventure, YA

Abstract

Elegy to the Spanish Republic by Robert Motherwell

Key features: Descriptions are evokative moreso than realistic, and writers may be willing to go far deeper into uncomfortable topics than others. Information may be jumbled, nonsensical, or downright wrong, all to provide a disorienting and, at times, unsettling experience for readers. Unusual depictions of everyday life and fantastical scenarios are common. Stories are rambling and rich with symbolism, but not necessarily with clear themes or deeply fleshed out characters.

Example text:

Then it developed sort of teeth-like little raspy incurving hooks and started eating. He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it, but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking on the street, shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags nobody loved it and it wanted to be kissed the same as any other mouth. Finally it talked all the time day and night, you could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the asshole said to him: ‘It’s you who will shut up in the end. Not me. Because we don’t need you around here any more. I can talk and eat and shit. Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs

Strengths: Very memorable, impactful, and intriguing. Creates new perspectives and concepts for the reader, showing the entire possibilities of the English language. Forces deeper analysis; many 'abstract' works have become hallmarks of their era that are still discussed decades later.

Drawbacks: The confusing and, at times, offputting descriptions can make some readers check out. These are an acquired taste which, when not done well and with an established following, may not receive much commercial success.

Good for: literary fiction, flash fiction, poetry

Cubism

The Women of Algiers by Pablo Picasso

Key features: Laconic style that is heavy on dialogue, not so much on description. Facts are stated plainly and without great adornment. Symbolism is muted but definitely present, requiring close reading to catch. Conversations may be circuitous and written very true to life, including irrelevant details and avoiding the main issue.

Example text:

Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. "Santiago," the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff was hauled up. "I could go with you again. We've made some money." The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. "No," the old man said. "You're with a lucky boat. Stay with them." "But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks." "I remember," the old man said. "I know you did not leave me because you doubted." "It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him." "I know," the old man said. "It is quite normal." "He hasn't much faith." "No," the old man said. "But we have. Haven't we?" "Yes," the boy said. "Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we'll take the stuff home." "Why not?" the old man said. "Between fishermen." The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway

Strengths: Can drive deep into the heart of the human condition and depict difficult topics in a way both sensitive and intriguing. The barebones depictions may be incredibly sharp, making readers look differently at their own lives. When the dialogue is written well, it can carry the text fantastically and develop vivid characters without much description.

Drawbacks: Similar to abstract writing, 'cubist' writing is often divisive: you either love it or you don't. Some can be bored or confused by long back and forth dialogues without any description to latch on, especially if the text is too focused on realism in dialogue without considering the bigger picture.

Good for: Crime writing, literary fiction, flash fiction

Pop Art

M-Maybe by Roy Liechenstein

Key features: Often features many references to contemporaneous media, merchandise, or current events, giving it a strong sense of time. Fast descriptions that rely on common knowledge, often done in a very punchy and fast-paced style. Characters are often vivid and draw on well-liked tropes so readers will quickly empathize with them.

Example text:

I avert my gaze from hers and glance down at my watch. It’s the latest in smartwatch tech from Samsung, a beautiful little thing that connects to my phone and computer, controls the streaming box on our television… Hell, if we could afford smart lights in our apartment, it could handle those, too. It’s nearly 8:00 p.m., which means my Glitch subscribers will be tuning in for my scheduled gaming stream of Reclaim the Sun at any minute. A couple social media notifications start lighting up the edges of the little screen, but it isn’t the unread messages or the time that taunt me. Don't Read the Comments by Eric Smith

Strengths: Very relatable to readers of a given era. When done well, can be both nostalgic and instructive, as they are strongly rooted in a particular time and place. Because they are so relatable, this kind of pop fiction is incredibly easy to commercialize and does well in mass media.

Drawbacks: There may be too much focus on being relatable rather than delving into the human condition. Easily grows dated and may rely too much on tropes and pop culture references for some to understand or enjoy.

Good for: YA, romance, comedy

Symbolism

Isle of the Dead by Arnold Böcklin

Key features: Focuses on the ideas of images rather than specifically describing things. Often a strong interest in the "unknowable," or the call of the void; much is left to the reader's imagination. A character's reaction to a given thing is often more important than the thing itself, helping the reader see it through the character's eyes and put themselves in the character's place. Mysterious and atmospheric. Like the 'impressionist' style, there may be great detail given to one or two things that represent the whole.

Example text:

Only poetry or madness could do justice to the noises heard by Legrasse’s men as they ploughed on through the black morass toward the red glare and the muffled tom-toms. There are vocal qualities peculiar to men, and vocal qualities peculiar to beasts; and it is terrible to hear the one when the source should yield the other. Animal fury and orgiastic licence here whipped themselves to daemoniac heights by howls and squawking ecstasies that tore and reverberated through those nighted woods like pestilential tempests from the gulfs of hell.  The Call of Cthulu by H.P. Lovecraft

Strengths: The writing is beautiful, poetic, and intriguing, playing deep into the fears of the human psyche regarding the unknown. Atmosphere, rather than understanding, is important here, and leaves readers feeling uneasy. Excellent for creating strong themes without seeming to lecture the reader.

Drawbacks: Can be melodramatic, and readers may grow frustrated by the lack of specificity. When not done well, it can feel cheap and maudlin rather than intriguing or unsettling. It's important to know what to disguise and what to reveal in order to provide 'anchors' for the reader.

Good for: Mystery, horror, sci-fi

Futurism

“Roundism – 02-12-14” by Corne Akkers

Key features: This one is more difficult to understand, both literally and figuratively. Descriptions can often be nonsensical, but they are written within a context that the reader does not have a full understanding of. There's most focus on the intriguing possibilities of words, settings, and themes. Things are referenced but not fully explained; the reader gets impressions of the world rather than the full idea. Often a very experimental style.

Example text:

You have been descending long enough on this incline hauling your slate ballast that the churning plane where sea meets sky is as far above you as an oak tree’s canopy is above a woman on a forest path. You watch the dappling of the sunlight with the sting and haze of submarine vision. First, she said, there was Nothing. All at rest. Then came Something, to shake the Nothing out of its peace. Out of Something came Things in proliferation, noise and edges and motion, darkness and light and gloaming, rocks and stars and water and fire and cold. Out of them came muck and slime. Out of that came darting specks. Out of them after a while came trees and birds and us. The Book of Elsewhere by Keanu Reeves and China Miéville

Strengths: As with 'abstract' style, there is an immaculate interest in the possibility of worlds and words, often pushing language to its limits in order to depict things otherwise undepictable. The complexities of the style can be very fascinating and demand a second read.

Drawbacks: Readers may be put off by how confusing the descriptions can be and how much the plot wavers. If not foreshadowed enough, plot twists may appear to come out of nowhere, leaving readers frustrated. Can feel self-indulgent and overblown.

Good for: Fantasy, sci-fi, literary fiction

How can knowing your writing art style help you?

Every writing style has its strengths and drawbacks, as well as its own unique applications. Some may be better for certain genres than others, and you can blend different styles to create something original that is wholly your own. Knowing your art style will allow you to draw upon your strengths while minimizing its weaknesses.

Additionally, understanding where you lay within all these extremes will give you an idea about how to expand your repertoire so as to create a more balanced style. You'll have an idea of who to read in order to try out different approaches, which can offer you more depth.

For cross-genre writers, looking at what works best for different genres will help you approach each type differently and better adhere to reader expectations.

As I mentioned previously, these are not discrete categories, nor are they the only ones out there. Every writer is a combination of some of these, or they may not fit any of them However, thinking about your writing in terms of what images it presents can shore up your descriptions to give off exactly the feeling you want, giving you more control over your work.

If you have any suggestions of other art styles that may also translate to writing, don't hesitate to drop them in reblogs or comments! Let me know what you think your writing adheres to (mine is closest to Impressionist, more like post-Impressionist).

[power-handmaiden]

Day 35: Angry Man Pounded By The Fear Of His Latent Gayness Over A Dinosaur Transitioning Into A Unicorn

I love how much contempt for its characters this tingler starts off with. We have the iconic man/woman couple who are always the subject of conservative boomer humor about relationships, the emotionally unavailable man and his overbearing shrill wife, who don't even like each other, let alone love or show any attraction to each other. It feels like a caricature but it actually makes more sense when the man turns out to not actually be attracted to women, honestly.

This tingler aged... interestingly. The protagonist's crisis of sexuality is brought on by his attraction to Bort Jenkins, a unicorn athlete and reality TV star who was born as a dinosaur and recently transitioned to a unicorn. Clearly a stand-in for Caitlyn Jenner. (If my rudimentary research is correct, Bort's resemblance to her deadname is because this was written in that specific time period where she had come out as trans, but not publicly revealed her name yet.) She's a controversial figure for many reasons that I'm not going to get into now, but this comes from a time when people were pretty much just laser-focused on the trans thing. Bort isn't really a character who does anything in this story anyway, more of a news item for characters to discuss.

Another present day context that really changes how I read this story is the conservative furry panic of the past few years. Yes, the "if people can identify as other genders, what if they start identifying as ANIMALS?" dumbfuck made-up problem is much older, but it's really having a moment now. This story was an absurd concept when it was written but now we have real elected officials in the USA freaking out over the idea of people "identifying as" different species, bringing this story a whole lot closer to realism than anyone would've expected in 2015. To me, the message of this one feels closer to the conservative furry strawman than it does to real trans issues, especially with the whole "you're gay regardless of whether you're into human, unicorn or dinosaur men" thing; we're dealing with an issue of species transition where gender is static. (Truth be told, I don't think it was the best move to make a comparison to a real-life trans woman and make this point in association because I've seen how people misinterpret such things... but I'm sure Tingler readers in particular understand the abstraction and that this isn't applicable directly to the real person) I feel like a version of this story could be written today with the message of "what if the conservative strawman version of the furry fandom was real and not just a way of targeting queer people without saying you're targeting queer people? Would it really be that bad or even different of a world to live in?"

I'm interested to see how Dr. Tingle tackles trans issues in the future. Despite a couple things that read as dated to me I see a good foundation here from someone who is still working through his own feelings about gender identity. I know that future tinglers will have explicitly trans characters and the perspective of a trans author who has explored and introspected on his own gender identity more thoroughly.

(Also there's a tingleverse connection in this one: mention of the "first human player in the UFL" refers to the events of "Pounded By The Gay Unicorn Football Squad")

[golden-golem]

Weird Debates

We've argued whether or not Asura have nipples, cloacas and tail nubs; if they can easily walk up stairs, if their teeth can handle anything tougher than bread, whether or not female asura should wear the elementalist outfit, or if it's ok to draw asura belly dancing. There's been claims that Asura are fascists and the mere mention of asura in some circles receives a lot of general derision to the tune of "I just want to kick them."

We've witnessed arguments about the realism of Norn that veered in to racist notions. There's been debates about how Eir was written or not written, and how Norn still seem overlooked in terms of development. There's been the debate as to whether or not Sylvari pair bonding with each other is incest. There have been arguments about the writing for both Trahearne and Caithe in equal measure. There was a time when Sylvari players were frowned upon once a certain truth about Sylvari existence became known. There continues to persist the notion that humans are the most boring race to play since "we're human in real life". Logan continues to receive a lot of mocking criticism for his earlier actions. There was briefly some discourse about the validity of Cantha's technological advances compared to Asura developments.

There's been criticisms about Rox's unique appearance, which for a time enraged the community. There have been debates about how unlikeable Rytlock was. There were arguments about whether or not Charr technology is stronger than Asura technology. And of course there's been the discourse as to if you're a furry if you play a charr. Now, we're visiting more arguments and some people feel put out by it; that the community is now somehow a dark unwelcoming space. People are definitely going to have opinions about aspects you love that you won't agree with and you definitely will have some thoughts others don't agree with. Maybe there are some debates better suited for smaller circles. But the most important thing that doesn't change is that we all very much love the game. It's just that this game we love is not perfect and we're all passionate people. Please don't let some opinions drive you away. It is ok to block what you don't like. Especially if it's hurtful. If you'd like to discuss something, get something off your chest or anything like that please feel free to send me a message.

[jasper-the-menace]

Hey, since you're interested in scorpion biology, I thought you'd be interested in the idea of... intersex Chima scorpions! Well, sort of.

There's a specific character that's been bugging me a bit. Scutter is kind of the scorpion equivalent of a centaur; he has two torsos, one anthropomorphic, and another of the scorpion body. With scorpion anatomy in mind, it's easy to reach the conclusion that Scutter's reproductive organ would be heavily altered because of his body, making him intersex to a certain extent.

I hope this makes sense. I'm trying to look for possible trans rep in Chima characters (like in this example). What do you think of this idea?

Oh friend, you don't know the essay you just inspired.

You Opened This Can Of Worms, Now Lie In It

Some important bulletpoints before I get going, just to get all of my followers on the same page:

Disclaimer: I am a transgender nonbinary perisex individual. This means I am not intersexed (to my knowledge), I don't identify with the gender I was assigned at birth, and I don't identify as male or female. The closest thing to describing my gender is literally "no".

I am a strong advocate for making as many characters transgender as possible, regardless of "realism". That's why, in my own writing, half of the Scorpions are retroactively transgender (though they don't understand gender on the whole and most of them would probably be nonbinary if someone took fifteen minutes to explain gender, variable social constructs, and the concept of genitalia tying to gender roles) and also Razar is too on account of I said so.

Being intersexed does not inherently mean being transgender. There is a lot of discussion and individual choice between intersexed people about whether or not they're part of the queer community. It's a very individual thing, and I am not part of those discussions on account of not being intersex myself.

When it comes to humans and other beings with a level of sentience and sapience, the term "hermaphrodite" and its derivates are considered slurs. When talking about animals, hermaphrodite and its derivates are scientific terms. So in something like the Legends of Chima series and other humanoid-animal media, the proper term is "intersexed". (I noticed you used the term "intersex" in your ask, and I appreciate it!)

I know too much about scorpion mating and birth.

We're talking way too much about genitalia and gender tonight in regards to fictional characters.

I am genuinely delighted that you decided to drop in here to discuss this, because boy howdy do I have a lot of thoughts about transgender headcanons/representation and scorpions specifically! Scorpions are just. So damn cool.

Note for my fellow arachnophobes: There are no images attached to this post, but it's really easy to find videos of scorpions doing various things on YouTube, which is actually how I've been studying them.

Scorpion Sex, Mating, and Genitalia

Scorpions of both "genders" have genital opercula (singular: genital operculum), and their asses run up into their tails. In order to mate, they don't just do like horses. No no, buddy, they have a really weird, specific method!

In order to start wooing his potential mate, the male scorpion will lock chelae (pincers) with the female scorpion, and they will start to "dance". The male scorpion will drop a sperm packet onto the ground and lead the female scorpion over it. If the female scorpion is down, she'll basically squat and absorb the sperm packet into her body, which is then followed by a "mating plug" to keep it in while it does the fertilization thing.

(It's important to note that the courting process also contains "juddering", aka the male scorpion doing the dance that the stickbug meme did, and may also contain clerchical "kisses". Honestly, pretty romantic for an arachnid. And possibly tail-rubbing and sexual stinging. Scorpions are very kinky!)

(It's also important to note that some species of scorpions have been reported, though not reliably, to reproduce through parthogenesis.)

Post-coitus cannibalism has not been scientifically seen in scorpions, so the male scorpion is generally safe as long as he scadoodles.

Gestation in some scorpion species can last over a year, and different species can have anywhere from 2 to 100 little scorplings - the physical size of the scorpion is not necessarily tied to how many babies they'll have.

Also, scorpions give live birth!

The baby scorpion is essentially folded like a Fedex package and launched out of the womb. It will then unfold and climb on top of the mother to make way for its next sibling. These will hang onto the mother until their first molt, which happens as a group and launches them into the juvenile stage. After this, they will still stay with their mothers until their carapace finishes hardening and gaining color, at which point they hunt prey on their own and will wander off on their own terms.

Hey, Jasper, That's Pretty Fucked Up, But How Does This Tie Into Chima?

I'm getting there, hold your centaur scorpions!

This is where we get into the worldbuilding of the Legends of Chima series, the Character Encyclopedia, and our poor boy Scutter.

See, the Legends of Chima as a series is very much a product of its time. There is some rife ableism and questionable word choices in regards to the Crawlers (and Sir Fangar, but this isn't about him). According to the Character Encyclopedia, Scutter is "less evolved". There's a looong history of racism in using phrases like "evolution" in regards to other humans, so taking that and applying it to an animal world leaves us with some very strange dissonance, because it's used in Chima to mean animals turned into a more humanoid form by the Chi.

Because really, what is the Chi? It's a magical substance that, depending on how you read it, could be the animist spirit of the land (I say, as an animist myself), or it could be drugs. Or it could be any number of other things! I know one person who writes Chi as the blood of dead gods, which is metal as fuck!

Ultimately, it depends on how one is writing the Chi that makes the usage of phrases like "less evolved" more or less questionable than it was intended. We're all dragging around the corpse of a Lego theme across our writing desks anyway. And the way I go about answering the question of "what is Chi" is definitely different from others. (Again, see the dead god blood part.)

The question of whether or not the Scorpion Tribe, namely Scutter, would count as intersexed relies on 1) defining intersexuality in regards to genitalia arrangement (scorpions don't have penises and vaginas by default; and the Wikipedia article on scorpions just uses "genital orfice" or "genital opercula"); 2) determining if the Chi has magically changed how genitalia works for Scorpions (admittedly, I do this because I didn't want to have to use the term "genital opercula" over and over); 3) determining the humanization extent of the Scorpion Tribe as you write them (I lean more towards human than you do, just from what I've seen of your work); and 4) deciding if such terminology even exists in Chima.

But looking at Scutter and going with the assumption that the back end is fully scorpion... No, I wouldn't count him as intersex by default. Intersex implies landing between the two human biological extremes (which, as we all know, is not as cut-and-dry as high school biology taught us), when really he's kind of a secret third thing (a Scorpion who probably doesn't have either a penis or a vagina).

(Of course, there's also what you said, paraphrased to my own wording: the Chi may have just decided to fuck up this poor man's genital situation and do a half-ass job.)

That's not to say he can't be trans. I mean, I made Scorm and about half of the Scorpion Tribe trans already. That's also not to say they're not all trans by default, considering scorpions without the ability to think wouldn't have the concepts of genders anyway.

Okay Jasper, So How Do You Write Him?

So, here's the thing. I'm aromantic-asexual, and I also write smut and, to a lesser extent, romance, which means I think about fictional character genitalia too much. But thinking about Scutter has left me utterly baffled.

On one hand, I usually write the Chi as a magical animist force of the land of Chima on the whole, and part of that is that the Chi tries to get everyone on the same playing field, physically speaking, which is how we get retroactive transgender man Scorm in my Tales of Chima series.

On the other hand, look at him. Look at him. He's a centaur arachnid. I know he can pass the Harkness Test, but I still feel weird thinking about his genitalia. If I go with my theory of the Chi giving everyone penises and vaginas at random, then I don't want to think about how much that would get in the way for the poor boy! On the other hand, his lower body is still mostly scorpion instead of, well, Scorpion, so who's to say he doesn't have a genital operculum?

Too Long, Don't Want Details About Scorpion Sex

Alright, spoilsport. Here's your TLDR:

It genuinely depends on what the Chi does in your version of the story and how bad it fucks up. It depends on how dedicated you are to scientific accuracy. It depends on how much you want to think about scorpion genitals.

And being intersex is not necessarily trans rep, unless it is, unless it isn't. I'm not intersexed, so I'm not going to say what that falls on myself. There is an intersex pride flag that was created by Morgan Carpenter in 2013.

Trans characters can exist outside of being intersexed, you don't have to conflate the two in order to have transgender representation. Just hit the characters with the Transgenderinator 5000 Beam. Fuck realism, this is a series about walking talking animal people. Who's going to stop you? The fun police? Transphobes? Eat them.

Further Reading

Start at Wikipedia and go from there through its sources for anything of particular interest:

Intersex flag (in case you're curious about it and its history, which can also launch you into further reading about humans being intersex)

Scorpion (morphology section)

Scorpion (mating subsection)

Scorpion (birth and development subsection)

So, uh, yeah! Thanks for coming to me with these questions, it's really touching that you value my thoughts this much, and I love talking about my boys and scorpions and the complicated web! I apologize for any errors or too-crass sections, because I wrote most of this in one sitting after playing wayyy too much Skyrim today.

~Jasper

[eisforeidolon]

In regards to that post [X]:

We could talk about the same old fallacies - OMG, Dean's siren is a guy! Yeah, a brother. OMG, Dean was supposed to say I love you in the Crypt scene! Yeah, it was removed and replaced with what the writer explicitly said was the less OOC version of what he meant anyway, "We're family". We could talk about the blatant absurdity of statements like "Dean liked men it happened on my screen" which bear no resemblance to the SPN that aired. But we've done that before and others have got this reiteration of it well covered.

So I wanna focus for the moment on this particular even more repulsive gem: "Like he literally doesn't need to verbally tell us he's bisexual we just know. He may not know but we do. This is an unmovable fact sorry."

It tells us a few things. One, this person is a fucking idiot. Two, this person, yet again, thinks that ~*interpreting*~ sexuality from the way someone looks/stands/makes eye contact/eats pastry/whatever numbnuts conspiracy bullshit you like? Is more valid than how a character identifies and is identified by those who created him. People can just look at you and know what your sexuality is better than you do, there's nothing repulsive about that idea at all! I've got a mountain of shiny pennies that says if Dean had literally never interacted with a man for the entire span of the series, they would have insisted it was because he was so afraid of how much he wanted to fuck them. There was no way the writers could have written Dean that someone like that would have accepted as actually heterosexual, because that's not what they personally wanted, so that's not what they were going to see.

I'm not saying there aren't things that might be said about how relatively questionable some of the gay jokes in SPN are, especially in the early years in terms of making queerness a punchline. But if we're going to talk about that? We need to do it not only in the cultural context of 2005 rather than 2023, but in the context of portrayals of real world men - and particularly those in fairly rural settings who aren't going to be particularly conscientious in the way they rib each other. Which becomes a whole other discussion about where to draw lines when you're writing fiction and dealing with things that might be realistic but also potentially offensive.

Furthermore, I'm not saying there aren't things that might be said about how SPN continually used romantic tropes for platonic relationships and how it's not entirely absurd for that to land different with the audience when the characters are not blood-related. Except that discussion needs to include not just how maybe the writers shouldn't have treated it as such a joke that a relationship between two male characters might have been possible, but also how fans should absolutely not have equated a relationship being theoretically possible with any specific relationship they wanted being owed to them. Especially in the context of those romantic tropes being used so so so much more between brothers all the fucking time setting the tone. As well as how it's not just problematic to treat the possibility of homosexual relationships as a joke, but problematic to insist literally any closeness between two male entities is gay, reinforcing all kinds of nasty toxic stereotypes about sexuality and masculinity which underlay a lot of modern adult men's issues with expressing their emotions and having genuinely close and open relationships outside of their romantic partners. I've seen fans wonder how heterosexual dudes can watch this show and love the brothers' relationship without seemingly noticing the weird undertones of how claustrophobically intertwined they are, and I think it's very much that when it comes to wanting a fantasy of platonic closeness, they're looking for realism as much as most women reading trashy romance novels are - but that's a whole other digression and this is already too long.

At the end of the day, not only was SPN not created in the cultural context of Very Online Tumbrites in 2023, convinced that nothing should ever be is heterosexual and every fictional story should be about them and what they want? The fact their ostensible original point misses is the real world and most other media of 2023 aren't like that either! Some of these shippers come across like they've literally never seen two adult male friends interact with each other or any actual love stories in media - and it's not just early 2000's television characters getting this treatment from entitled shippers who want to use representation as a weapon against creators as to why they're owed things they absolutely aren't.

[kakuzuweek2023]

Prompts Announcement!

First of all, thank you all for your interest! The other mods and I have discussed extensively the prompts, and have decided to have book genres and art movements as master theme for this year's Kakuzu event, in tribute to our very own Kakuzu's love for books. We don't expect anyone to make a whole baroque or symbolic painting, and your writing doesn't have to fit that day's genre if you don't want. You can take as much or as little inspiration from them, mix them, or ignore them completely. Romance is of course possible for all prompts and genres!

We haven't dedicated a single day for free day, as such we accomodate for it any day.

We have also decided to add "vibes" to each day. If they spark inspiration, go ahead!

Transcript of the prompts :

Day 1 : Affiliation + Identity + Masks. Genre : Mystery. Art movement : Surrealism. Vibes : The Unknown, The Many, the Hidden

Day 2 : North + Shogi. Genre : Symbolism. Art movement : Symbolism. Vibes : Alternate settings, Understanding or accomodating the unexplained.

Day 3 : Hobbies + Parnership. Genre : Slice of Life/Realism. Art movement : Impressionism. Vibes : Appreciating the mundane, Kakuzu's day off.

Day 4 : Body horror + Monster/Human + Earth Grudge Fear. Genre : Horror. Art movement : Expressionism. Vibes : Graphic and gorey.

Day 5 : Immortality + Mythology. Genre : Fantasy. Art movement : Secession. Vibes : The Unreal.

Day 6 : Memory + Pioneer. Genre : Autobiography. Art movement : Portraits. Vibes : The Memories, the Sentiments, the First Times.

Day 7 : “Hearts are wild creatures, that’s why our ribs are cages.” + Tough Skin. Genre : Tragedy. Art movement : Baroque. Vibes : Wrath, Greed, Pretended Indifference, Resilience, the Imperfect.

Please remember to check the rules if you haven't already! Have fun creating, we're looking forward to your posting!

[bird-inacage]

This is going to sound mean, but I think people are forgetting this isn't a BL.

In a BL, Ray would ultimately choose Sand. He would realize that his obsession with Mew is just that, that he wants Sand for real, and choose him, finally. Just to really hammer it home they'd have him doing something like calling Sand when he needs someone to be there for him again, like he called Mew two years ago. Bring the narrative full circle.

But this isn't a BL it's a queer drama trying to emulate real life. And unfortunately, most of the time in real life what happens is the person in Sand's position gets left. They get ignored. They get treated badly. And then hopefully they wise up and move on.

If Mew can manage to get over Top, I think it's very possible he and Ray will make a real go of it, whether it's good for them or not. Can't tell you how many times I've watched my friends make that mistake.

What I mean to say is I think some of this stuff is shippers understanding finally that this isn't the kind of thing they're used to, and that they can't expect a happy ending for their ship. That it's entirely likely that they won't get a happy ending at all.

I don't think that it was clear to some people until the last episode.

Hello Anon,

You make some interesting points here. At the end of the day, this is a fictional show that we all enjoy critiquing and discussing, so no hard feelings (at least not from my end).

And yes, I think this series has been so successful and resonated with so many due to it's intentional approach to not romanticise or sugar coat the queer relationships we're used to seeing in BL. It can be messy. It can be downright toxic. There is the real possibility our ships or 'couples' may not actually end up together. As you say, this series is perhaps trying to skirt closer to real life, but let's not forget that it's still ultimately a piece of entertainment.

People like to ship because it's part of the enjoyment of consuming a series. Expecting a certain outcome is not the same as hoping for a certain outcome. Shippers may hope for a happy ending but that doesn't necessarily mean they're not aware it may not happen, and it certainly doesn't mean they can't still enjoy the series either. Shipping was never bound to realism. Heck, that's why ghost ships also exist. Does the lack of any possibility those characters will ever couple up stop ghost-shippers from shipping? Nope. Why? It's fun. That's all it is, people enjoy it. That's why we're all here, no?

We're only halfway through, so who knows what the conclusion will be. Will all these 'couples' end up together? Perhaps they will, perhaps they won't.

---birdie

[tarabyte3]

I Want You to Show Me Weak

Fandom: Andor

Pairing: Kino Loy/F!Reader

Chapter 25/27 (7.2k words)

->start at chapter 1<-

<- Chapter 24

Summary: You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.

Warnings: Explicit rating, Smut, Prison, Prison sex, minor non-graphic injuries, Dom/Sub, sexual tension, dirty talk, praise, hair-pulling, choking, unprotected sex, oral, angst, orgasm denial, humiliation, slut shaming, references to domestic abuse, discussion of domestic abuse, minor violence, discussion of violence, description of violence, come eating, discussion about sexual assault, allusion to sexual assault, rough oral sex, throat fucking

A/N: New warning in the tag! And as you're looking at it, I want you all to remember that I enjoy a bit of messy realism in my smut. 😅😇 Enjoy! Also, now that we're nearing the end, if you're expecting there to have been a secret plot to this story this whole time, it's best for both of us if you go ahead and leave that here at the front door…the two of them, their relationship, and their growth were the real plot this whole time.

Work title is from "Poison" by Vaults. Chapter title is from "Daddy" by Ramsey. (Like I wouldn't put that in here, come on)

AO3 Link

Chapter 25 - I belong to you, I give you the power. You're the only one that I let in. You tear my walls down.

When Kino steps into your cell that evening, you meet him halfway.

Your movement is practically a lunge because you're still eager and itching from your lack of satisfaction that morning. Once you no longer had the distraction of work, it had grown into persistence while you were alone in your cell. One that took every ounce of effort not to indulge, but you didn't. You behaved.

He doesn't stop you or scold you, though. Instead his arms wrap around you—one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and one at the back of your neck—and he holds you tightly to him while his tongue delves into the heat of your mouth to slide along yours, drawing a moan from your throat.

You kiss him as though you haven't seen him in days. As though you didn't wake up in his arms that morning. As though he didn't kiss you passionately goodbye before leaving your cell with a whispered promise to take care of you later.

Your hands roam greedily over him. The slight contour of his belly and the ridges of his ribs. The shifting muscle of his chest and the hard line of his collarbone where the unnatural fabric of his uniform finally ends and gives way to flesh. He's always warm to the touch—his skin a balm to your cooler body. Touching him is like stealing heat to soothe your sore, overworked hands. You want to sink into him and bask in it.

No, you want him to sink into you and set every inch of you ablaze with heat. You want to burn in his arms.

With a bit more urgency, your fingers trace up along his neck, which is thick and corded with even more muscle. The tendons there are drawn taut from the effort of working his mouth hungrily over yours. You can even feel the shifting and flexing all the way up into his jaw, you notice with a shiver. Every bit of him radiates strength and all of it is focused on you.

You whimper as a wet heat blossoms between your legs.

Finally, you slip your fingers into those untameable curls at the base of his skull. He lets out a pleased, muffled grunt in response. So you hook your fingers and drag them over his scalp, tugging gently on a few strands of hair as you do. He breaks the kiss to groan in pleasure.

"I've missed you all day," you whisper against his lips.

"Did you?" He raises a teasing eyebrow at you. He sounds almost out of breath, you notice with no small amount of pride. "All of me or parts of me specifically?"

"Well, those parts are nicely attached to you and you use them wonderfully, so all of you." You grin as you press forward to kiss him again.

His hands slide down your back until they reach your hips. With another grunt he pulls you flush against him, and you whimper as your stomach meets the hard bulge of his erection. He pulls away to growl into your mouth, "Can you tell I missed you, too?"

"Yes," you breathe out. Then you slowly grind yourself into him, working little twitches from his cock and causing his breath to hitch. "Feel free to show me, though."

"I see you're still being impatient." He narrows his eyes at you in warning.

You, on your knees, tied up with your own uniform, and sobbing while you plead with him to touch you.

You freeze.

Your sudden lack of movement has him humming in satisfaction.

"Much better. Look at how well you can behave for me." Then he leans forward and whispers in your ear, "Especially when you're properly motivated."

You go weak-kneed and melt against him, your fingers clutching the front of his uniform. It's like leaning into stone for as little as he shifts under the sudden brunt of your weight.

"You know," he nuzzles against your jaw with his nose, "I've been giving a lot of thought to what you said to me."

"What I said to you…?" Your mind races to come up with context for what he means. Unfortunately, your brain is currently too clouded with need to find any. "You'll have to be more specific. I've said a lot of things to you." You turn towards him, your lips nearly brushing over his. "And some of them were pretty filthy."

"Does, 'I'd let you do anything you want to me' ring any bells?"

"Oh." The memory of being bent over in front of him while he teased your opening cuts through the fog of lust. Of stroking his cock that morning and offering to give him anything he could ask for. Then the realization of what it means that he's bringing it up dawns on you. You feel a sudden flush of heat and thrill as you lean away to look at him properly. "Does this mean you thought of something?"

"I did." He looks pleased with himself and that only causes the excitement within you to build.

"What is it?" You stare up at him in thinly veiled excited curiosity. Because this is something new. It's something he wants. "My ass?"

"You're clever." The low gravel of his voice sends shivers straight to your already aching sex. "I'm sure you'll catch on quickly."

You open your mouth to protest, but his nostrils flare and his jaw clenches, as if he's daring you to continue.

"Okay, Kino." Your posture shifts as you submit to him. "Tell me what to do."

The look of pride on his face nearly brings you to your knees again.

"Lie on your back across the width of the bed. I want your head hanging over the side of the mattress." He sounds so calm. If he's feeling eager at all, he hides it well. Sometimes it feels as though he has an infinite supply of patience and self-control. While you have…well, a rapidly dwindling stock on hand whenever you're around him.

"Okay." Without hesitation, you pull away from him to strip your uniform off. Then once you're bare for him, you begin climbing onto your bed to do as you're told. It takes you a few tries to get into the right spot so only your head is leaning back and not your shoulders as well. You also have to keep your legs bent and knees pulled up to even fit on the narrow mattress, but eventually you settle in and he gives you an approving nod.

You look at him upside down. From this angle, the bulge in his pants is directly in your line of sight. As he begins sliding the top of his uniform over his head, another thought you had while you were on your knees yesterday suddenly comes to mind.

"You're going to fuck my mouth."

He bunches his shirt and tosses it to the side, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing from the casual effort, and he stares down at you in challenge. "Your mouth? Are you sure about that?" His hands move to his waistband and you gulp in realization.

"My throat," you say quietly. Then you take in a shuddering breath because vocalizing it makes it real.

The corner of his lips quirks into a pleased smile. "I told you you would catch on quickly."

But he must see something in your expression as you continue to stare up at him, still wide eyed and trying to process what that entails. Something that gives him pause. Because then his hands move away from his waistband, leaving it undisturbed. Instead, he settles his palms on either side of your jaw and lightly cups your face. As though you're delicate and not about to get throat fucked.

"Still mean what you said? Or would this be too much? Because now's the time to speak up." The edge and the teasing are absent from his voice.

You unconsciously lick your lips as you look up into his eyes and the idea still bounces around in your mind. Despite your shock, of course you still mean it. How could you ever say no to him? "I do. God, do I still mean it."

"Do you trust me?" He whispers as he gazes down at you with a tender expression. His blue eyes, soft and searching for any hint of doubt on your face.

"With my life," you vow without hesitation.

"Good. But you let me know if you need me to stop for any reason." His thumb brushes over your cheek, barely touching your skin. You shiver at the ghost of a sensation. "This isn't a punishment. I don't want it to just be pain and misery for you. Okay?"

"Okay, Kino. I want to give this to you." You place a hand over his much larger one and give it an encouraging squeeze. "Let me."

That's all the reassurance he needs. His unheld hand shifts back to his waistband and he works—slowly and efficiently—to pull his pants down past his hips.

Finally, his erection falls free in front of your face. For a second you swear you go cross-eyed taking it in because god you remember now just how thick he truly is. You swallow heavily, and the first bit of real doubt itches at the back of your mind. Because how the fuck are you going to handle that? When you're on your knees you have the leverage to pull away or change the angle. But like this? You're completely helpless to him.

As terrifying as the thought is, you still feel a responding flutter at your core. The idea of being at his mercy is tantalizing, despite the circumstances.

You look past his length, up into his face as he stares hungrily down at you, and you know you're going to do everything you can to try. For him.

"Be so good for me," he whispers as his thumb moves over your cheek again—firmer this time. The grip on your jaw tightens as well, his fingers finding purchase along the bone. It's a reminder that the gentle negotiation and communication are done now. He's in control again.

Then, with his hand gliding his foreskin down the length of his cock, he guides himself to your waiting mouth.

Which snaps shut.

Instead, he nudges into your closed lips, your last defense against what is about to happen—and your last bit of defiance as well. Despite wanting to make this easier on yourself, you know he'll enjoy it far more if it isn't.

He growls in frustration, and an involuntary shiver whorls its way up your spine.

He prods against you again, harder this time and with hope you'll be good. That you'll behave and open up for him. When you don't, the exposed tip of him drags across the seam of your mouth, leaving a smear of precome behind. There's a snarl from above you. Then his fingers dig into your jaw and his thumb presses against your cheek where your teeth are clenched together, as if he's trying to pry you open like an oyster. As if wants to be inside of you so badly and knows how close he is to getting it that he doesn't think to scold you first. All he can do is take.

It's better than you imagined.

You part your lips to moan, and he uses the opening to force the head of his cock into your mouth with an exhale of relief.

You're grateful he stops there.

You're fully aware you could be choking on his cock instead, so you quickly close your lips around him. Then you begin to swirl your tongue over him and lap at his leaking tip in apology for misbehaving. At this angle, you can't quite tease the sensitive underside, but the effect it has on him is still immediate. He groans and slides further into you, forcing you to open wider until the shaft of his erection is resting along your tongue. You suck and lick at him with even more enthusiasm, which earns you a surprised hiss as he sucks in a breath. You know then any lingering anger at your disobedience has dissipated under the attention.

He starts out rocking gently at first, barely getting deeper with each thrust. What he's actually doing is holding back— letting you acclimate because a part of him is still worried about hurting you or pushing you too hard. It's unnecessary, you think as you grunt in frustration. It's only making the anticipation worse.

You stretch forward and squeeze your lips hard around him, increasing the depth and pressure as he thrusts in. He lets out a long groan and twitches against your tongue.

"You want me to hurry up and fuck you?" He teases. Though the effect is ruined by the rough, breathy tone of his voice. You can tell he's already enjoying this.

You hum around him in affirmation. That's exactly what you want.

"That's my girl." Then he plunges himself part of the way into your throat.

You choke immediately and your hands scramble in instinctive panic along the mattress at the intrusion. 'It's too much!' You think. You can't do this. But then your rational mind kicks in and reminds you that you're safe. You can breathe. He won't give you more than you can handle. You can stop this if you need to. So you take a deep breath through your nose and force yourself to relax your hands and your body—but most importantly your throat.

"There you go, pet. Just breathe." When he thrusts in again, a bit deeper this time, you tense, but you don't panic. "Just like that," he growls.

His grip on your jaw tightens. Before, his hands were keeping you steady and grounded as he worked his way up to fucking you. Now he's holding your face still while he uses your throat. There's a painful swelling and throb of need between your legs at the thought.

"Oh, fuck," he moans. "God, you feel incredible." He pulls out all the way, momentarily giving you relief so you can suck in deep breaths of air. A thread of spit trails obscenely from your lips to the tip of his erection. Your tongue darts out to lick it away, drawing a little gasp as he stares down at you. Then you nod to let him know you're okay, and he slams into you again with a deep groan, making your eyes water.

"Look at how well you're taking my cock," he says through gritted teeth. "You're so good for me."

Your nails dig into the vinyl material of your mattress in elation at the praise.

"I've wanted to bury myself in your mouth since you were on your knees in front of me last night. But this is so much better. God, the way those beautiful lips of yours are stretched around me."

His hand wraps around your throat, the large expanse of his palm engulfing the column of your neck. You feel bird-boned beneath the strength in that grip, in his fingers, conscious of the fact that he could squeeze the life from you if he wanted and there is nothing you could do to stop him. The thought is arousing. Not the flirtation with death, but the complete certainty—the absolute, unshakable trust—that he won't.

But he's not choking you with his hand or digging those thick fingers into your flesh. He's feeling where he's moving within your throat—proof of how deeply buried inside of you he truly is. You swallow around him, letting your muscles work his length, and a groan is wrenched from his chest. The vibration of it curls down through your stomach and settles into your core.

He pulls out completely again, giving you another reprieve. Though his hand stays wrapped around your neck. His touch still isn't smothering—it's possessive. It's as if he's claiming you. Reminding you of who you belong to.

As if you could forget.

Everything about this act should be filthy. It should be messy, unrestrained lust as he takes, nothing but need and force. And it is all of those things, but at the center of it and driving this forward is raw intimacy. Your body's response to him in this moment rivals looking into his eyes as he says he loves you. 

Because this is something that he's wanted. He craved the feeling of the act itself, yes, but you know it's more than that. It's the thrill that your trust and submission gives him. The power over you. That you would let him use you in this way is proof of your devotion.

So you give yourself to him, and your heart flutters with every noise that spills from his lips. Every gasp and shudder, more than physical pleasure. It's a satisfaction that you feel deep in the core of your being.

And then he does squeeze.

"If I put pressure, it makes your throat—" he pauses to groan as he drives in, "—so much fucking tighter for me." 

Your eyes clench shut as you feel your gag reflex kick back in at the extra force. The muscles in your throat clamp down around him and your hands grope at his legs. Just when you think you can't take anymore and are on the verge of panicking, his grip relaxes. Then he pulls out just far enough to ease your panic.

His thumb skims reassuringly over the crook of your neck as you breathe through your nose and get your bearings again. He didn't give you more than you could handle, you tell yourself, just like he promised. Once you're properly calm, you tap against his thigh to let him know he can continue.

"Good girl," he grunts, his hips jerking forward to meet your lips. "You're being so very, very good."

His continued praise sends a rush of heat between your thighs, reminding you of your own neglected arousal. Your hips begin to writhe eagerly along the mattress, seeking any sort of friction or sensation—a response which does not go unnoticed. 

"Touch yourself," he orders. "I want to watch while I fuck you."

You obey by reaching blindly between your legs and cupping a hand over your mound. Even that small bit of pressure is enough to send a shudder through you. You can barely see his face around his cock now, but you see enough to know his attention has shifted from your mouth to your lower half.

With a firm, deliberate touch, you rub along your slit and the rhythm of his thrusts falters. So you repeat the movement, this time rolling your hips to meet your fingers and dragging higher until—finally—you brush against your clit.

He growls and ruts into you.

"I love your mouth. I love watching you suck my cock. But there is nothing in the entire Galaxy better than being in your cunt," he says in a low rumble.

You want that. You want that so badly. Your fingers speed up and you let out a whimper.

"You like the thought of that?" You lift your hips a few inches off the bed as your fingers tease and dip into your entrance, hoping to get a reaction from him. He plunges deep in response. "Want me to fuck you properly?"

You can't make any sounds with him in your throat again, but you need him to know how much you want it. So instead you pull your knees up higher and spread them wide, putting yourself on display for him—to tempt him while you greedily finger yourself.

"Look at your pretty hole. So wet and desperate for me." His thrusts are starting to get rough, which is making your eyes water. "Just from my cock in your mouth."

He's also starting to sound tense and distracted, and you're worried he's going to end up too far gone to stop. That he won't actually fuck you. In one last desperate attempt to get him between your legs, you drag your fingers along your folds and spread yourself open, giving him a full view of exactly where you want him.

It's finally the last straw because, without saying a word, he pulls out so quickly that you nearly choke again and takes a half step back.

You lay there, catching your breath. Your eyes are red rimmed and watery, your lips are swollen from the pressure around his cock, and there's drool all over your face—even up to your nose. You're a mess, but he gazes down at you in reverence. As if you were something sacred. Even as you cough and gasp for air, you can see every bit of love he has for you in the blue of his eyes.

"Kino—" You try to speak, but it comes out hoarse from so much abuse.

"You're stunning," he whispers, either oblivious to your struggle to talk or because of it. "You were so good for me and gave me everything I wanted."

If you weren't already burning and sweaty, you would be hot faced with pride. You swallow a few times, getting the muscles to relax back into place. Then you clear your throat before trying again. Your voice is still strained, but it's strong enough now that you can push through the tightness and the pain. "Kino, please fuck me. I've been desperate for you since this morning. Please." Your voice cracks, breaking from the new use.

"But you're doing such a lovely job of begging..." He places a hand to the side of your face, enveloping your cheek in his palm. Despite how much you want to give in and nuzzle into his touch and place tiny kisses along his fingers, you roll over and push yourself to your hands and knees instead.

"I can beg more, if that's what it takes." You raise up so you're eye level with him. There's a slight flare to his nostrils and you can tell he likes the thought of that.

He tilts his head to the side and waits.

You shuffle forward over the now sweat slick mattress to the edge of the bed. Then you bring your face close to his, your mouths hovering barely an inch apart. "Please," you breathe against his lips, "I want your cock inside of me so badly." You reach down and take hold of one of his wrists. He doesn't resist as you guide his hand between your legs. "Feel how much I want you."

He draws a fingertip over your damp folds and you let out a gasp. His eyes grow heavy and his lips part with desire. You know he's thinking about how good it would feel to slide his cock into that wet heat. You're so close to getting him to snap.

"See?" You let go of his wrist to run your hands up his chest, along his neck, until you're tracing your fingers over the stubble on his jaw. "All for you."

You finally close the distance to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. With a growl, he wraps his arms around you and crushes you flush against him to kiss you back. Soon the two of you are a tangled mess of limbs and tongues, and one of his hands has found its way down your back to squeeze your ass.

You pull far enough away to sob out, "God, I need you!"

He quickly brings both of his hands down to grasp the backs of your thighs. Then he pulls you off balance and lifts you off the bed. You gasp in surprise, latching onto his shoulders to keep from tilting sideways. But when he settles your legs on either side of him, you instinctively encircle his hips and hook your ankles behind his back. Then you squeeze, bringing the two of you together until his cock is pinned between his belly and your sex.

"Oh fuck, Kino," you whine and squirm in his arms. "Make love to me."

He shifts his hands under your ass so he can lift you higher, his length sliding against your folds as he does, until the tip of him is right at your entrance.

"Say it again," he demands, his voice harsh and rough. "Beg."

"Fuck me," you plead. "Please fuck me!"

He lowers you down, gravity doing most of the work for you, and then he's sliding into you. Your walls stretch and grip around him as you envelope his cock, and you both let out echoing moans into the space between you. When you bottom out, his hands grab at your ass as his hips press forward, trying to get deeper still.

"I love when you beg," he rasps out. "So needy for me."

"Always!"

Your legs flex and brace as you ride him. Your only support is your own hands clinging to his shoulders and his hands cupped under your ass, lifting you up with every roll of your hips. Some distant part of your brain wishes you could see his arms right now. Could watch the way his muscles flex as he forces you to keep moving onto his cock. You moan at the thought.

Another part of you wishes there was a decent wall in your cell that he could shove you against as he fucked you. Because, while it feels incredible to have him inside of you, you're struggling to keep your grip and your pace, and it's using nearly every muscle in your body to do so. Muscles which are starting to burn.

And you need more.

He must feel it too because without warning, he takes a step forward and slams you back down on the bed. The wind is forced from your lungs at the impact along your shoulder blades, but before you can catch your breath, he starts pounding into you at a relentless pace. His hands grip your hips, his fingers dimpling your flesh as he forces you to meet every one of his thrusts. Your sweat covered body jolts and slides along the vinyl.

"Are you ready to finally come?"

You nod, dizzy from the combination of hitting the mattress and the way his hips are crashing into yours.

"I want to hear you say it," he growls.

"Yes, Kino," you whimper out, making a needy little noise in your throat. "Please. Please make me come."

"Good girl." Before you can react to that, he groans and collapses forward, his hand catching his weight on the mattress before he crushes you. The angle changes into something delicious. Electricity arcs through your belly as every thrust meets your clit. "I'm gonna take care of you."

Then he buries his face into the crook of your neck as his hips rock into you. Every part of you feels surrounded and consumed by him. Like he could melt into you. You close your arms around him and tighten your legs on his waist, trying to speed the process along.

"I want to feel how much you've needed my cock." His voice rolls over you like gravel. "I want to come with your cunt squeezing me. Let go for me."

You've been teetering on that edge for what feels like hours after carrying this morning's interruption throughout the whole day. Now with his hands grasping at you, his hips rolling into yours, his breath on your skin—you let go. Your head falls back against the mattress and your lips part in a strangled cry as your climax engulfs you, making your vision blur and your toes curl. All of your nerve endings are reduced to static.

"Oh, fuck, you feel so good!" He buries himself as deep as he can get—desperate to feel the way your walls pulse around his cock—and then he tenses while you continue to grind mindlessly against him. A second later, he lets out a low groan right into your ear as he throbs and comes inside of you, which sets you quivering further. As his release subsides, he jerks and grunts a few more shallow thrusts into you, chasing every last bit of pleasure from your wet heat.

When both of you are finally spent, he stays bent over you, gasping and panting into your neck.

You could lay there with him forever, nuzzling back into him and feeling his heartbeat where his chest is pressed against yours—but too soon he's pulling away. You open your mouth to protest.

"It's alright, Pet," he says reassuringly. He scoops your legs up and maneuvers you lengthwise along the bed to make room for both of you. Then he climbs in next to you before flopping down on his back, exhausted.

You lay curled against his side, your leg tangled with his, your head resting on his shoulder and tucked under his chin, his arm slung around you and holding you close. His other hand wanders over your jaw, your cheek, down the length of your arm—supplying you with gentle, loving touches everywhere he can reach. Meanwhile, your fingertips tease patterns through the hair on his chest, stopping only to press over a little freckle on his sternum.

"Are you upset about last night?" You finally ask quietly, breaking the comfortable silence of your shared afterglow. You haven't spoken about this yet. You've wanted to, but there hasn't been a perfect moment to bring it up until now. Now that the ever persistent itch for him has been quieted to a whisper.

His hand stills where it's stroking the side of your neck and your entire body follows suit, tense with worry. He doesn't say anything, though. Instead he moves a finger to your chin and urges you to look at him. You hesitate before meeting his eyes, but there's no anger or disappointment in them. The stare he's giving you is pensive.

"No, pet. I'm not upset." He releases your chin. Then he shifts to caress the shell of your ear with the rough pads of his fingertips and sweep his thumb across your cheek. "Did you think I would be?"

"Yes," you respond truthfully. You didn't realize just how anxious you'd been about this until the knot in your stomach loosens at his words. "Not at me, but in general. I know how important it is that you maintain the floor."

"I was at first. Mostly from embarrassment." He lets out a chuckle that rumbles through his chest beneath your palm, and then he sighs. "But Threl was brutally honest about every detail. He told me what people heard and how they reacted. And as I thought about it throughout the day, I realized it didn't matter. We have to be careful in the future, of course, but the rest of it? As long as I have you, I can handle the rest of it."

"Kino," you breathe out softly, touched by his admission. You hook your arm across his belly and pull yourself closer against him.

"I realized something else, too," he continues. "The work matters, but only to a point. It's the people on this shift that truly matter. Their safety and humanity matter. Not this place. Not the parts or the rules. I forgot that for a while. I lost sight of it through my own anger and frustration and became a very bitter, selfish man who thought only of himself."

You frown as you look up at him. "You weren't selfish. A hardass, yeah, but never selfish."

"That's sweet of you to say, but I was." He shakes his head to stop you from protesting further. "I wanted the numbers and order so they would leave us alone and I could get out of here. I didn't care if people suffered in the process. I thought it was better than the alternative. In reality, I was just doing their dirty work for them, and what does that make me?"

You have no easy response for him. You know what he's implying, that his compliance made him just as bad as the people keeping you all here, but the answer is far more complex than that. He's not taking into account that he's a victim, too. You hope one day you can help work through it and ease some of his guilt. But for now, you nestle against him and continue to offer him your silent comfort and support.

"But they're wrong. I was wrong. Fear and misery aren't sustainable. And like I told you before, I've seen how much of a difference morale makes. Our numbers are actually better now." His hand moves while he talks, gesturing broadly to the air. "That's why I let the tables talk more than they used to. That's why I let people laugh a little more often in the locker room and in the hallway, as long as it doesn't get out of hand. That's why I didn't put a stop to pushing the cell limit. As long as our numbers are good, why should we sacrifice everything to this place? They can have our labor, but the rest should belong to us." He presses a firm kiss against your temple, letting his lips linger so his words come out soft and slightly muffled when he says, "You helped me remember that."

"God, Threl was right." By now there are tears in your eyes and your voice is thick with emotion. He's fucking incredible and you can't believe he's yours.

He adjusts to get a better look at you. "Right about what?"

"I've softened you."

He huffs out a small laugh. "I suppose you have."

As you stare back at him—take in the stubble of his beard, the warmth in his eyes, and the lines on his face—all you can think is that you want to spend the rest of your life with this man. You want him in your arms and between your legs as you submit to him. You want his hands on you, both harsh and sweet. You want to fall asleep and wake up next to him every day. You want him to continue surprising you like this, no matter what your circumstances are.

You've both said your I love yous and alluded to a future together, but you no longer want anything left unsaid. You've been there before—unsure if he wanted you, unsure if he loved you, and afraid to ask. You never want to live with doubt again where he's concerned.

You sit up on the bed and give him a hard stare. "We need to have a serious conversation."

He frowns back at you. "I thought that's what we were doing?"

"Yes, but there's another serious conversation we need to have."

"Alright," he says hesitantly.

You take a slow, deep breath to prepare yourself, intending to approach this delicately, but your impatience wins. So instead you blurt out, "How many shifts do you have left?"

There's a flash of mild surprise on his face. "Why?"

"Just answer the question." At his raised eyebrow, you add in a soft, "Please."

"Three hundred and sixty two." He sighs heavily through his nose.

"I've got six hundred and eighty left on my two year sentence."

"Alright. So?"

"So that means in less than two years both of us will be out. Only…you'll get out first."

"Say what it is you want to say." There's a hint of impatience to his voice, and you have to wonder if he's nervous about the direction of this conversation. 'That makes two of us,' you think.

"What I mean is…did you mean everything you've said to me?" God, his eyes are so blue. Like sky. Like leaping out of the door of a moving transport and falling, weightless, through atmosphere. Your voice lowers to a whisper. "Will you wait for me, Kino?"

For a second he doesn't respond, just stares at you with that deep frown while your heart pounds a frantic rhythm against your ribcage. You think you've fucked up somehow or broken the illusion of what this is by giving voice to it beyond the hypothetical, whispered in moments of desperation and ecstasy. You want to say something to take it back, but then his lips are on yours and he's kissing the words and doubt out of your mind.

When he breaks the kiss, he rests his hand on your cheek and his forehead against yours while he catches his breath.

"You drive me crazy, you know that? Out on the floor, in the hall, and especially in this bed." He sighs as he pulls away to meet your eyes. "Of course I meant it. I meant every lust filled nonsense you've ever dragged out of me."

"Including wanting to spend the rest of your life fucking me as often as possible?" You give him a small grin.

"Especially that," he says in that low gravel.

"Good," you whisper. "Then we're going to get out of here and we're going to do just that. Like you said, this place doesn't fucking matter. This is temporary. But you aren't. Not for me."

"You aren't either. I told you that you belonged to me." His voice lowers possessively as he lightly kisses your cheek, his hot breath tickling your skin. "That you're mine. Never doubt how much I mean that."

Your eyelashes flutter in bliss. "Then when we're apart, I want you to remember that I intend to always find my way straight back into your arms the first chance I get. And I'm never leaving."

"Good. And I want you to remember that when you do, I'm going to spend every moment I can buried between your legs." When you laugh, he gives you a fake, stern look and grumbles out, "I'm serious!"

"I know you are!" You continue to chuckle.

"Then why are you laughing?" He drags his hand down your back, over the curve of your ass, until it settles on the back of your thigh. Then he pulls you closer so he can kiss his way down your neck.

Your laughter quickly turns into a gasp. "Because I'm trying to stop myself from getting too worked up because the floor's going to be hot soon."

He grunts in frustration against your shoulder. "I didn't think I could hate this place more than I already do."

"Why? Were you thinking about fucking me again?" You bite your lip to stifle a moan as his stubble scratches across your skin.

"Of course I am," he growls and thrusts his hips towards you, grinding his hardening erection into your groin.

"Fuck," you whimper as arousal pools in your belly. "I hate this place, too."

He shifts far enough that his cock is resting directly over your sex. "How much longer?" He asks in a husky rumble.

You quickly crane your head to look at the little display in your cell. Then your stomach drops at the time. "Twelve minutes, so realistically nine or ten minutes."

He starts to rut against you as you gasp and moan, but his movement is half-hearted at best. It's as if he's holding back because he's debating with himself about whether or not that's enough time to finish anything he starts—to fully take care of you the way he wants. But before you can wrap your leg around his waist and rock back into him, his hips still and he slumps against you, resigning himself to the fact that it isn't.

You're frustrated that he stopped because it was just starting to feel so good, but you're also relieved it didn't go further so you weren't left a desperate, wanting mess, just on the edge of release. Again. Part of you is surprised he didn't take advantage of the fact that he could do just that. He does enjoy leaving you in a ruined state with orders not to touch yourself or alleviate that need, after all. But you're not about to protest.

Instead, he untangles himself from your limbs, gently moving them to the side, and sits up on the bed. "If I had more time, pet…" He says regretfully.

"I know," you sigh and sit up next to him, your legs dangling over the side of the mattress.

He reaches out to hold your chin in his thick fingers. Then he traces your lips with the pad of his thumb. "I'll make it up to you."

"You always do." You give it a feather light kiss before looking at him in adoration.

"I don't just mean tomorrow. Someday I'll get the chance to make up for all of it." He's staring down at your lips, his eyelids heavy with a lingering heat, but there's also a tenderness to his expression that sets your chest aching. "You deserve more than this, and I plan to give it to you."

Your heart and your core flutter at the implication. "God, I love you."

"I love you, too." Then he's getting up off the bed to start getting dressed while you sit there, reeling from everything and trying to will your wobbly legs to cooperate when you stand up.

As he's pulling his pants up past his hips and settling them on his waist, he says, "I'm going to come here early tomorrow, if that's okay."

You look up at him in shock, your own pants frozen for a moment over your knees before you finish yanking them up. He rarely shows up early, and he's never actively planned to do so before. This is new, and, therefore, very exciting. "Yeah. Of course it is."

"After dinner?" He bends over to grab his uniform top from the floor, giving it a shake to unfurl the fabric, oblivious to the way that you're practically melting at the thought of getting to spend twice as much time with him.

"I'd really like that," you say softly.

"Good." He stops talking long enough to pull his shirt on. "Because I want to finally see if I can come inside of you twice in one night."

"Oh my god," you moan. The lust that had been slowly diminishing at the thought of spending quality time with him is violently—painfully—rekindled. "So much for not getting too worked up."

He looks pleased with your reaction and gives you a teasing smile. "I take it you like the thought of that?"

"You know I do." You take a step towards him. "I especially love the thought of doing everything I can to make you."

He closes the gap between you and holds you by your hips. "Yeah? I bet that pretty little cunt of yours could make me."

"Fuck!" You whimper. "You have to leave before I rip my clothes back off."

"No," he says, and there's an edge to his voice. "You're going to control yourself for me until tomorrow. Aren't you?"

"Yes, Kino." You can't help but yield immediately to that tone.

"And you're going to behave."

"I will." You nod. "I promise."

"That's my good girl." He leans in to kiss you as your knees turn to rubber. "Because I would be awfully disappointed if I had to punish you instead."

You let out a sob at the thought of missing out on the reward he's now planted in your mind. And what he would consider an equal punishment. "Yes, Kino."

A/N: Truthfully, I stepped outside of my comfort zone to write this chapter and it's yet another thing that slowed me down to a glacial pace. I have never attempted to write anything like it before and I wanted to try something new, but I constantly felt like I got in over my head (hehehehe). I was worried it would be disappointing. Instead it took me over 6 months to update and I disappointed you all that way instead. 😎👉👉 But I got over my block and I fucking did it! 🥳🥂🍾 Just don't ask me when the neck chapter will be done. I'm absolutely working on it and a chunk is written, but I will also be out of town every single weekend and one full week this October. But I'm hoping it'll be this month 🤞

After you say your goodbyes and he leaves your cell, you know there are only a finite number of these partings left. 'Remember, this is temporary,' you tell yourself. But as you watch him disappear into the hallway and around the corner, you realize knowing that doesn't make every single time it happens hurt any less. It's just the pain that's temporary.

[ohhgingersnaps]

Shane/leah? Tell me more! They are my two favs, but i've never thought about them as a couple.

Okay SO my affinity for Shane/Leah is a fairly recent thing (I fully credit @coolcoolglasses and @floopthecooper for fueling this particular fire and brainstorming with me haha).

My relationship with this ship has been a month-long slow-burn enemies-to-lovers kind of situation. My initial gut reaction of "eh that would never work" quietly progressed into "oh wait they might be cute, actually" and then into "oh NO! i'm invested!!"

So, reasons why I think Shane/Leah would work:

"Hello, neighbor. We both live outside of town. Does that mean something?" (from Leah’s dialogue). They're both a little introverted, and a bit non-conformist, and they both moved to Pelican Town to escape their old life. While that doesn't automatically make them kindred spirits, it's not nothing.

Leah is the sort of person who's willing to sit with someone in whatever they're going through, instead of trying to fix them or cheer them up, and that's what Shane needs. He doesn’t need a savior, he needs support.

Bonding over nature/animals. Leah talks a lot about how much she loves farm animals, even before she's interested in the farmer, and a good portion of her high-heart dialogue is along the lines of, "Oh, gosh, a farm sounds so nice, I love farms! Wouldn't it be awesome to have help on your farm? Maybe me??" Leah would absolutely jump at the chance to help take care of the animals on Marnie's ranch, is all I'm saying.

Narrative parallels. Leah's arc is partly about finding the confidence to present her art to the world, which involves a huge level of vulnerability; Shane's arc is about a lot of things, depending on how you slice it, but vulnerability's one angle.

Also, not to project all over Shane (read: absolutely to project), but an important component of my mental health recovery has been "hope"— not hope as a feeling, but hope as an action— as buckling down and trying, even if you're scared or tired or aren't feeling positively about it. You know all those "going on my daily stupid walk for my stupid mental health >:(" memes? To me, that has recovery!Shane vibes. He's grumpy about it, sure, but that just means he's gotta do it grumpy.

And Leah's arc is chock-full of Hope As An Action. Being an artist is a constant struggle of "this thing I am making will not turn out as perfect as it is in my head, and I will make it anyway." Leah often expresses uncertainty about her own level of talent, but she puts herself and her work out there in spite of that, and she gets stronger and more self-assured the more she does it.

(Putting the rest of this under a cut because it got long oops)

What they value in a partner. Leah values someone who's okay with simplicity, who's straightforward and honest (which Shane generally is, when he's not putting up a front to push people away). She also wants someone who will believe in her and respect her, and I think Shane would not only respect her unique traits, but admire them. Having a goal you're passionate about in the first place is awesome, but being willing to fight for it? That takes guts.

I think Shane values honesty, steadfastness, and realism, but also needs someone whose realism is cut with hope and determination instead of pessimism. Also, per earlier discussion, he needs someone who's willing to sit with him at his lowest points instead of trying to fix him. Someone who's independent and can offer support, but who's also good at setting and respecting boundaries.

(Also, while we're on the topic of Things They'd Appreciate About Each Other, I do think Shane would appreciate that Leah is capable of breaking him in half. Like, he passes her chopping firewood on his way to work one day and goes "hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" lmao)

They have similar senses of humor. They both have dry sarcasm vibes to me, with a side of terrible puns. I'm not elaborating on this at all, I just think it's true.

Consider also: Leah hanging out with the ranch family. Found family tropes! Coming over for meals, bringing over a hearty soup when the ranch fam gets sick, coming over to sketch the chickens. (If doodles of Shane end up on her pages more often than the chickens do, well…)

I tend to headcanon Leah as having been through the wringer a bit re: her own mental health post-Kel, so while her situation does differ from Shane's, she does understand facets of what he's going through. And when she needs to vent about Kel, or needs time to process something that's triggered her, Shane's in a similar position— even if he doesn't fully get it, he can still empathize, make space for her, and also sometimes get angry about it with her, which she finds oddly validating.

I can talk about this for hours but I will stop here!!

The main difficulty I see in them getting together is that Shane tends to rebuff people, and Leah would take his "leave me alone" at face value because boundaries are important to her for Personal Reasons (i.e. Kel-related trauma), so they’d need some sort of contrived circumstance to force them to interact with one another long enough that he lets his walls down a bit…

Once he does, though, they'd get along like a house on fire, and I have a giant cardboard box full of contrived circumstances that I'm itching to use on them :)

[thedawningofthehour]

I know I keep saying that! But I don't know what else to say, after the end of book 2 I had kind of hoped Draxum wouldn't hurt Raph only to get punched straight in the pancreas a chapter later. It's just...fuck.

Thank goodness for people discussing chapter details in the comments, I was so blinded by my anger towards Draxum that I think I missed several interesting ones.

1- So, if I understood correctly. Long distance portals consume more time and resources as opposed to short distance portals. That reminds me so much of a fic I read a while back about Leo making a mess around with his portals while Draxum and the others are like:

"What do you mean you don't need to draw runes for your portals?"

"What do you mean you don't have a portal license?"

"What do you mean you've never been trained!"

"What do you mean Paris!!!"

" HOW IN THE HELL YOU'RE NOT DEAD?!"

I would like yo find that fic again.

It would have been interesting to see Draxum's reaction to this considering what a crucial advantage fast transportation tends to be in, well, a lot of things, especially conflicts like war.

2- will we see Mikey throw a ship like in the beginning of season 2?

3- is there a chance to see Savage Raph?

Ding ding ding! Portals are pretty intense magic and are more draining/difficult to do the farther you go, as well as how long it's up for and the amount of mass passing through it. Draxum can boop around NYC pretty easily because he's a high level mage with a long of mana or whatever we're calling your magic meter in this universe, and he's been practicing for literally centuries. But even then, he isn't portalling to go take a piss or grab a snack from the pantry. It's still draining, and if he dips around too much he will deplete his mana supply. Stationary portals between two fixed locations are much more energy efficient and secure, but all portals that go farther than 'somewhere in upstate NY' have been closed by now. Draxum would eventually open international portals back up, but it would be a very intensive undertaking and it would be dangerous to do if the area the were portalling to was at risk of being retaken.

Leo-well, Leo does have his magic sword, which does a lot of heavy lifting in the relationship. But Leo is also a genuine savant. He's completely self-taught and picks up portalling, this extremely intensive and dangerous form of magic, just like that. Like, two years and he's portal-chopping alien spaceships. Draxum hates him but also kind of wants to put him under a microscope.

(shit like portalling his brothers to Tahiti or himself to Paris doesn't draw on his own power as much because it was unintentional and the sword chose it more than he did, and that makes sense in this magic system because I say it does)

I'm gonna say no, with the closer to realism take I'm going with in this fic I don't think it would make sense to have Mikey throw ships or buildings. I don't think that would work in a written medium without it coming off as silly.

And I'm not going to answer the last one.