#but keep in mind the pattern of fandom hating on women | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelletwo · 10 months ago

Text

wrestling with the 4devas bitchslap again to convince myself its fine if graveyard wins the best ep tourney: it's not the other bloggers who are wrong, it's me

not a complete response to but definitely in conversation with and asking some of the same questions again as @reductionisms's 4devas essay, which tries to square gintoki's "life doesn't need to be fun, i just need you to live" being a series-sanctioned message he's given to villains as an arc-concluding moral continuously up until 4devas with it here being an incorrect worldview that needs to be (physically) corrected by shinpachi, the straightman tonal signpost of gintama

a conflict i have been perplexed by ever since i got to this line on my first watch a year or two ago, since i've seen this line before! all over fandom! as part of the general "dont [bottom text] kill yourself" motivational messaging of gintama that i love!

and, briefly, when i hit 4devas i was also in the middle of being really frustrated by the new arc pattern i was seeing crop up: i loved the villains-turned sympathetic-turned someone worth saving by gintoki tune of the first half of gintama, but it fell massively flat for me in Yoshiwara in Flames, where i was never convinced to be on housen's side but had to watch him get a heartwarming redemptive death at the side of the woman he abused anyways.

then shortly after i had the same exact experience in Red Spider with jiraia, and i thought, if this is what gintama is gonna do with its shitty dudes from now on im gonna quit the fucking show. and then shortly after that i met jirochou and saw him cut down otose the woman he loved (under a raining sky!!! the fucking sky motifs!!! the signpost im about to watch a dude be shittily violent to women and be expected to feel sorry for him about it) and saw too much red to really take in the rest of the arc level-headedly or care about anything in it lol.

so it was written off in my mind as the 'otose almost gets fridged' arc until i rewatched it this week. then i had to remember, oh yeah, there's a ton of political maneuvering fakeouts in this arc that i never actually squared back with how the plot presented itself prior to the reveals, so i'd still been thinking about the "fakeout" plot. then i read the manga version with all the "truths" in mind from the start, and finally i felt like i could understand what this arc is doing a little better.

(way) tldr (4.4k words. sorry): do i love this arc? eh. do i still hate it? eh. but it's doing stuff!

first, i was able to see an echo in all the "actually i was planning to betray you the whole time" "actually i was working to help you the whole time" plot beats of what sorachi does with the larger edo/universe story further into the back half of the manga. if i ever sound like i didnt enjoy or wasnt convinced by the execution of these "reveals," it's because i didnt and wasnt, lol. but it's fun that he had fun with them i guess.

the arc starts with pirako ingratiating herself into yorozuya, then having a classic "bump into you and pretend to be injured to extort you" encounter w her dad's gang. to resolve this without escalating into violence, gintoki... does it back to them, which is really funny. but thus the tone is set for the arc of: DISHONEST APPROACHES TO CONFLICT.

pirako isnt honest about her overall intentions the, like, seven different times that she "admits her real ones." kada plays at peacekeeper in the devas while being the ultimate person scheming to get the upper hand over everyone else in the end. (she's also secretly harusame, evil amanto outsider who acts as a unifying force for the kabukicho fighting itself to band together against and expel: sorachi's favorite move! the problem was never internal, it's the shadowy REAL antagonists who infiltrated us)

jirochou and otose are ultimately doing a pantomime of conflict to try to keep temperatures down and escalations from breaking out, so no one they care about has to get hurt. gintoki doesn't know this until the end, but he follows in their footsteps after his encounter with them in the graveyard: he plays at having given up to the rest of yorozuya so they'll leave and escape the coming kabukicho war, the same thing otose was trying with him. it fails both times. i'm really not sure why gintoki and otose thought it would work, honestly. they should know their kids are stubborn as hell.

but gintoki is in a bind because of the things he needs to protect, and all of his actions are primarily in service of that, to the detriment of how he'd prefer to act if he were less restricted. he is unsurprised and unoffended to hear saigou is only willing to warn them, not help them, because her son is in danger if she acts directly. all four devas are, seemingly, being mutually restrained this way, holding back even when blatantly manipulated to do so. the other constant of this arc: everyone is dishonest, and no one wants to risk losing what they have.

gintoki understands that! of course! he's had to make that calculus before, after all :)

and this arc is just one big cliff scene echo: the entire graveyard scene pushing gintoki to emotional regression because he thinks he's losing another parent figure, one he's just seen the Gintoki Figure of the arc cut down, no less (takasugi stolen valor when he goes berserk against him and only ends up uselessly bleeding out on the ground about it, honestly). otose goes into this willingly so gintoki can live. he accepts this decision because he values protecting her values (her kids living on) and is briefly broken by it (the story says, before giving him shinpachi to "put him back on track"). prior to the bitchslap, after saying he just wants them to live, even if it has to be without him, he says:

i dont have a good understanding of when we start getting reveals of gintoki's backstory versus foreshadowing because i went into gintama already knowing most of it, but definitely by the recent red spider where we get our first real look at (or really, first listen to) shouyou. but here we actually get some of what gintoki felt about it, which he keeps closely guarded even when the whole truth comes out: he's done his best to survive having lost, but it was so unbearable he can't face losing again.

(also, honorable mention backstory echo, the person calling him a brother sets his home on fire to drive him and his parent figure out of town. as i liveblogged: this one would really hurt gintoki if gintoki cared about anything oboro ever did!)

but with the shinpachi story-rerouting, they get the good end, keep everyone (otose, yorozuya, all of kabukicho, even pirako and her dad - everyone but kada) safe without having to sacrifice a single thing, even keep gintoki hopeful for this outcome. so, as goose points out, we are left to understand that there could have been a good end on the cliff, that something is different here than there, and, skipping a lot of math, that that is the people around gintoki.

which i do find really funny to imagine as a slam on takasugi and katsura. sorry you kids suck too much, your teacher dies bc u were cringefail. but lets look at it.

everyone is dishonest, no one wants to risk what they have: gintoki rallies himself to keep fighting but is determined to do it alone. kagura and shinpachi fight him on this; they can't leave because they don't want to lose their home, they can't let him fight alone because they don't want to lose him. they're just as restricted by what they have to keep safe, but their only option is to act where everyone else's is inaction. shinpachi says:

if i may skip over the bitchslap itself for now, gintoki does consent to let his allies fight with him after it. yorozuya stands alone against saigou, who's heavily demoralized but resigned, strongarmed into fighting them by the threat to her son. but on seeing their resolve to keep protecting their own precious home and family she says:

and, to skip straight to my thought, i think this is what turns the tides back in their favor. there are more twists and turns to the fight. pirako equates what binds saigou, which she herself equates to what binds the yorozuya, to what binds her:

(with an intentional distinction that she's willing to actively destroy the others', as opposed to their purely self defensive fighting, which is echoed at some point in her distinguishing gintoki from jirochou in the same way, that jirochou not only lives to protect like gintoki but is willing to destroy in the process. i don't find that part as interesting, but it's more fuel to the power of having something to protect as a driving force as an arc theme.)

so now all three stand on the same ground, absolutely unwilling to give up what they hold dear, but all their cards are on the table. they aren't dealing in 12 dimensions of tricksy defensive pre-emptive moves anymore. they know it wouldnt work, anyways, since they all know their drives to protect are the same and no one will be talked into backing down. now they can directly duke it out and let the winner be determined that way, on strength of will. even before the actual circumstances change, the fight somehow feels freer seeing how inevitable it is. and with everything out in the open, yorozuya can now protect each other and saigou's son, taking out one side of the conflict.

(and with everything out in the open, the ultimate 4devas villain can become the single person who continues to betray the others, kada, whose further machinations - with everything out in the open! - saigou (and later yorozuya) can choose to protect pirako from. everyone wins! because everything was out in the open! do you see where i'm going)

and so we come back to the question: gintoki is corrected, the arc is rerailed to the better outcome. so is the correction justified?

what does the correction accomplish outside of its moment? most convincingly to me of goose's presented options, i also think it's done as a thematic shift, a, okay, just live was a strategy that worked before but now doesn't suffice, so we need something more.

as to why this is needed now and not earlier or later...tldr bad planning <3 but like.

we have, prior to this, a consistent thrust of arcs where gintoki teaches people to lose. as well, while we meet the harusame and we visit space and we get the barest glimpses of takasugi's weird shadowy background moves there, largely we're dealing with kabukicho characters and kabukicho stories. we see or only hear about the shogun for short comedic moments only. we've largely dropped the series intro focus on things like the shinsengumi or hasegawa acting as foreign diplomats. it's a local series, a hometown series, a kabukicho and not even an edo at large series, a personal story about gintoki making personal connections with his personal experience as a flawed person with a flawed approach to life that has let him, chronic slacker, get by on the bare minimum.

at this moment, chapter 300, we have a slow trickle of gintoki backstory starting to come out to us. we've recently expanded the story focus to include yoshiwara, which gets a callout in this arc by kada to keep it relevant. we have an arc of sorachi testing out plot beats that he'll use again for the endgame, in all the political maneuvering and alliancing and betraying and shadowy outsider space governmenting, where he's also doing a lot of echoing of that backstory that only becomes clear later. so it's possible he's thinking about shifting gears and setting up for the eventual endgame, which means getting out of the episodic cycle so things can stick.

and after this arc, to my opinion and memory, we stop getting the classic gintama flavor sympathizable'd antagonists. a lot of the bigger arcs don't even have clear Big Shot antagonists anymore, being more about the shouyoucore theme of characters fighting against themselves, or if there is one they're always explicitly part of the Shadow Government now, a unified and more daunting force than someone they can win over with an inspiring gintoki interaction.

so 4devas does act as a turning point at least in some way. and it's not possible to say this definitively, since all gintama arcs are ultimately never going to be about gintoki or his friends Actually losing something instead of beating the odds, but it does feel like theres a different flavor to, say, dekobokko with its direct look at how chars lives could be different and better and they will still choose to keep struggling as themselves. and Kintama arc definitely doesn't feel like an early days arc, like it can only resolve the way it does with a gintoki who is now able to face his past and the possibility of losing again and again and again (now with, natch, his faith that yorozuya will by his side when he does).

why now, after 300 chapters of letting it sit ignored in the back of his brain working out perfectly fine except when it doesn't (the very reminder of shouyou in a fight making him go Demon Mode, which is like regular gintoki but worse at fighting, bc he is so unprepared to think about shouyou)? well i personally am in big favor of the "take a decade off" strategy for facing problems. it worked for me too. realistically watsonianly its nice to let things percolate in the brain and do some of the processing behind the scenes until its less immediately painful. and he's made many bonds over these 300 chapters, shown in this arc when the whole town rallies behind him, that are there to support him when he needs it now and weren't there before.

realistically doylistly eh. bad planning.

and so we come back to the question: gintoki is corrected, the series as a result is rerailed to a writing space where things can start changing (leave the episodic, as you guys say, sazae-san format). it's useful in the future. so is the correction justified in terms of what comes before it? was the correction needed?

thinking about the bitchslap leads to thinking about the cliff scene leads to (sorry kagura and katsura, you guys arent really relevant here) pitting shinpachi and takasugi against each other in how they act with something on the line they can't bear to give up.

i don’t need the lesson of 4devas to apply logistically to the cliff scene. once they were set up on that chessboard, frozen in their assigned places as a backstory, it’s not like takasugi could’ve power of friendship’d his way out of being physically retrained if he decided he wanted to. it’s set up as a forced choice, it has to play out as a forced choice.

but we see that even before it’s asked of him, takasugi is willing, prepared, unbothered to give up his own life for shouyou’s. this is, goose lays out in the sequel, the cardinal sin in gintama - a teacher shouldn’t outlive their student. it would have been especially egregious to shouyou, whose whole desired life’s purpose is to raise students who can outlive him and outgrow him, take his lessons and go out into the world and do their own thing with them. takasugi doesn’t expect to do this and doesn’t seem to see a point in the possibility if shouyou isn’t back with them.

though we can also think of shouyou as a little too quickly willing to give up on the cliff - sorry, gintoki, the suicidal guy has thought about it for .02 seconds and decided the best outcome is for you to kill him even though he could get out of this no problem. maybe its no wonder gintoki gave up too. can we ask katsura what he would’ve done?

and is takasugi different from shinpachi there? he rejects the mentor’s attempt to exchange his own life for his. he’s not willing to consider a life without him.

but shinpachi is convinced no one is going to die. because they’ll be there together. incredibly naive - shinpachi and kagura, restricted to one option by what they need to protect like everyone is in 4devas, have acting as that one option because they are still free in a way gintoki and the other adults aren't. they’ve never actually experienced the impossible choice that forces you to give up, so they can act as if there isn’t one - what else would they do? why would they think to give up?

but gintoki is defined by having lived the impossible choice. its built into the foundation of him as a character and leaks out everywhere. he couldn’t have relied on his friends on the cliff because they were quite forcibly removed from the picture as an option, not by his or their choice. its written as an inevitability, logistics we find out later be damned.

if we refocus to 4devas, we can look at the Gintoki Figure for a different angle. jirochou, after he and gintoki resolve the arc conflict by being able to team up because they - say it with me - put everything out in the open, tells gintoki about his impetus for abandoning his family and coming back to his wayward life in kabukicho, the death of otose's husband.

it's, um, another now really obvious parallel to gintoki, lol. characters talk about how jirochou does everything he does in this arc to try to atone for his failure to both otose and tatsugorou, and i guess thats true bc he was written that way but he has an odd way of showing it, but anyways he resolves that, despite his guilt over this, all he can do now is keep living and keep protecting what they loved together. he's come to the usual gintama message all on his own, reinforcing that this is the correct way to live in this series. he had his own unavoidably shitty situation, and he came to terms with it.

so then where did jirochou go wrong, in the narrative's eyes (other than abandoning one woman and their child to deal drugs in the town of his other woman while ignoring her)? was there a point he could've changed how their trio's story played out? but he loved and trusted tatsugorou, and he was happy to step aside and let him be the one by their otose's side. i doubt he would have been happy stealing her away even if it were possible.

but if we look at the resolution tool of 4devas... he never put everything out in the open!!! everyone knows he loved otose, but in more of an open secret way. in classic romance plot, he never confessed for second male lead rejection closure. indeed, in the closest we ever get to a main character having a romantic plot in gintama, the very ending of the arc flirts with him doing just that now that he's made a little progress with the arc message, with the entire cast of the arc expecting him to (and interrupting before he can).

but if he had when they were young. if he had been honest with his friends. could it have opened up other options that weren't available on his own, that they didnt know to offer? i have a preferred one lol. but u can get creative with all sorts of life paths that avoid tatsugorou dying that way or, at the least, jirochou feeling chained to a shameful life (living in a town he doesn't go out in to protect a woman he doesnt talk to and feeling like he doesnt deserve the family he abandoned for this) because of it.

and then if we take this and rewind back to the cliff... we get to grind my favorite ax, "shouyou shouldve told literally anyone literally anything about his deal." if gintoki knew more about shouyou, they could've faced his horrors together, the whole time. he couldve known that shouyou was being literal calling himself a demon and not internalized his own identity as one for life just because shouyou bonded with him over it. i truly genuinely think the logical conclusion of all of gintama's big messages are that shouyou and gintoki should have been more open with each other.

but i don't think sorachi thinks that. and, you know, by 4devas rules, the unriskable precious things he was protecting by staying silent were his students' humanity, and secondarily his own fragilely newly hopeful heart that literally couldnt stand another 10 millionth round of rejection (killed himself and then went on a 12 year rampage over it. girl i would too).

and takasugi really isn't dishonest about what's going on in his head when he tells us he expects to die for shouyou. that's as cards on the table as i could ask. gintoki is, a little bit, by omission. he does what i'd want him to here - tells takasugi try just not dying - but doesn't give him a reason to, and doesn't tell him he has no plans of letting anyone die for shouyou.

so what goes wrong on the cliff - shouyou is happy, gintoki is happy, oboro's even kind of happy, katsura is irrelevant - is that takasugi is blindsided (whoops) by their silent agreement that betrays the one he thought he and gintoki had. and then ruins everyone's party about it and spends the next ten years doing so for good measure.

which is also, basically, what shinpachi is going through that prompts the bitchslap, too. he thought they were a team, that they had each others backs, not that gintoki is a one-way protector of them. he is blindsided by gintoki lying to and tricking them and hiding things from them. he is hurt by gintoki feeling hopeless all by himself when he could share that with them and be encouraged by their endless child optimism.

and would it need to have changed anything on the cliff? in the moment after the bitchslap, what contributes to gintoki changing his mindset is tama telling him, we trust that you're capable bc youve always shown us that, can you trust us this time? when, later in the arc, gintoki seems to regress by sending kagura and shinpachi away, he asks them to trust that he's still trusting them, relying on them to help shoulder his burden, and in return they know he's staying alive, not self sacrificing. maybe it would've helped just to feel on the same team and not shut out, to be able to trust gintoki like gintoki was trusting shouyou?

so. two paralleled instances of gintoki making a bad situation worse by keeping to himself and being too self sufficient. that feels clear cut that feels fine im okay with that as a takeaway. do i think its exactly what sorachi had in mind while writing this, as opposed to just a good series 'hey lean on your friends' moment to read cool and tug at the heartstrings? eh lol. i think theres definitely room to read takasugi into this arc (i still need to refind the takagin 4devas post...) but its not so baked in that i think he was a PRIORITY in the plotting.

but is the shinpachi SCOLDING necessary is the scolding justified... and yes its in response to life doesnt need to be fun i just want you to live. still a confusing framing i can't immediately square. but/and more immediately its directly responding. to gintoki opening up to them about his insecurities!!

which, as said, he doesnt do!! he doesnt talk about his failures! its basically like, here and to hijikata that one time and otherwise even when we know all the facts about what happened we still never hear gintoki himself talk about it. (so he really DOESNT learn the lesson here either. he stays dissociated and triggered every time utsuro comes up. he tries to solve the altana baby problem on his own. he doesnt talk to his new friends OR his old friends. bwah. gintoki. silver soul.)

so this is like. its just in the wrong order!! its just in a baffling order lol. if you want gintoki to share his burden do you need to punch him when he shares it. does it also need to sound like you're blaming him for not being capable of upholding his promise to protect anyone when thats the insecurity thats got him all discombobulated this arc in the first place (a whole set of notes i took on this that i didnt find a place for in this post)?? its so weeeeiiiiiirddd lol i dont liiikeee itttttt. theres plenty of things shinpachi can validly punch gintoki for but this is such a weird one.

so i guess. having a clearer understanding of this arc do i hate it less? YES honestly. i hate fakeout plots generally they irritate me but everything... more or less makes sense by gintama standards now that i have the whole plot in mind.

do i hate jirochou less SORT OF? i enjoy him. in his individual relationships. i like his shitty dad deal i love shitty dads. i like him pining for otose who genuinely likes him but also brings up her husband every sentence she says to him just to keep him down. i like his parallels with gintoki that they both explicitly acknowledge and find macho comfort in. hes still not theeeeeeeee most well-developed gintama antagonist but you know? i at least think otose and pirako would want to be around him after this.

do i feel like i have a clearer understanding of the bitchslap moment. NOT CONVINCED I DO. i feel like its going to be one of those things that slips in and out of my understanding like sand in cupped hands. i have a tentative understanding of it that i dont think sorachi actually had in mind. so i dont think ive solved it lol.

will i be cursed to think about 4devas forever? god i hope not. am i okay with it beating farewell shins in the polls. god i fucking hope it does. in the horrible timeline where i have to see 305 make it all the way and then lose i guess id rather it be to this one than to hijigin. consider this poll propaganda?

#sopping wet gintoki posting

16 notes · View notes

sirenemale · 10 months ago

Note

💋🖼🗺 WARRIORS ASK GAME BEAM

THANK YOU FOR INDULGING MEEEEE

💋 : is there any ships out there you absolutely hate for genuinely no good reason at all. like its not problematic in the slightest, if anything it's one of the better ones, you just cannot bring yourself to enjoy it

I dont think there's any that make me see red or anything, just a lot that are really really nothing imo. I think there's a lot of kinda just for fun or sweet ships that don't really have enough chemistry for me to care abt, which is so fine I just like dynamicsss. Then again a lot of that is down to a lot of wc characters being kinda blank slates (esp side characters) i can buy into most things if someone is insane enough abt their headcannons for it.

WAIT I'm lying,and hollyleaf and fallenleaves. I think he's boring!!! he should've been more toxic genuinely. This also stemms from me being a giant hollyleaf head and liking her being a bit of a bad person, I don't really see why this relationship with some super patient ghost guy would really make her turn around on anything. She had multiple patient people in her life yknow. I think him being clingy, desperate not to lose the only cat to see him on decades, would be way more interesting. Maybe she's being eaten alive by guilt, bc she's contradicted everything she believed in and is trying to justify it to ease her own stress. And fallenleaves is like overly forgiving of it to the point it upsets her. I also just think her narrative turn around was too easy and she wasn't really taken to task by anyone which is disappointing. Like I hate the idea of Holly's turn around being in part to a pseudo ghost boyfriend who's nice to her and her learning mother hood hard bc nursing a fox cub ect. I want it to come from herself and admitting to what she chose to do in her spiral. I think part tof what really gets to her is others disappointment, and silence, and like leafpool in the berries scene where she's got this controlled kinda disappointment and grief. Like hollyleaf wants a bigger reaction to rally against to justify her own extremity but she isn't getting it. Ashfur is someone who gave that to her. she wants to be a bigger victim than she was, she can't take the idea that everything was always out of control and starclan never had anyone's interests in mind. Not just her. Or that others suffered more than her (leaf and squirrel). Idk I think having some guy try to justify it to her to keep her with him would really force her to hear how it sounds.

Also most of this is like part canon remembering and part like, projection and fan interpretation bc wc stuff is a fascinating melting pot of Nostalgia and canon, and headcanon more than any fandom I've seen before. Partly bc the maps and animations create a soft canon that ppl get into instead of the books. I'm trying to write an essay abt ittttt. I also kinda have this pet theory abt hollyleaf being written in the same veign as male characters in the series where their emotional turmoil is used to demean, punish and flanderize female characters (leafpool and squirrelflight in this circumstance) and I think it's interesting. As well as her never being really held to account for how she treated anyone, she's allowed to keep hating her mothers, she got away with murder and attempted murder ect. She also was allowed to be ambitious and never had a mate which r both things Erin's almost never let female characters do without making them into like evil hag harpies ect. I'm very interested in breaking down their specific gender Flanderization bc it's such a clear pattern they use in the books over and over bc they hate women a LOT.

Anyway I told you these would be long. I like hollyleaf regular amounts

🖼 : first amv/pmv you ever watched?

Fuckkkk. Mr brightside was a really defining one for me. I don't remember the first but duckfeathers, gamakichisora, silverwolfynight and ryulovestsute were surely there.

🗺 : first map you ever watched?

This also wasn't the first but this had such a foul grip on me. I almost wrote an essay abt it when I was like 10 or 11 or something. I wasn't allowed to bc when we handed in our song choices for review the teacher told me it was about suicide and I had no clue I was like it's actually about warrior cats. (Songs and their wc amv or map were basically 1 to 1 for me)

youtube

#smiles #warrior cats

4 notes · View notes

raytorosaurus · 3 years ago

Note

pls tell me you don't think disliking lynz is misogynistic lol i must've misinterpreted that

nope! it's totally fine to dislike lynz, i also don't like her myself. she's said some very questionable things and MSI grosses me out, as does her association with jimmy urine. i already know people will want to take this the wrong way so i want to make it clear that i'm not defending any of that. i'm pointing out an irritating mindless pattern of behaviour in this fandom that is immature and reductive at best and misogynistic at worst, which includes:

1. the intensity of the vitriol that is directed at her being disproportionate to most of the men ppl blog about who have done/said similar, if not much worse, things. and honestly in a lot of cases disproportionate to what she's actually done

2. the fact that i see so many people (especially on twitter) blindly jumping on the bandwagon of hating on her often without knowing what exactly it is they're hating her for - and even then, most of the reasons i see parrotted on twitter are either contextless and overexaggerated or not even one of the aforementioned valid reasons for disliking her. i don't know how to tell you this but if you believe everything on lynzuglyliar you need to reevaluate how you engage with information on the internet lol

3. the level of glee with which people hate on her, which truly smacks of old-school fandom misogyny reserved for women who marry your faves or get in the way of your favourite ship. on twitter especially it honestly truly feels like people are delighted to have a wife of the band they're "allowed" to hate on lol. i know a lot of that is coming from teenagers who will grow up and learn more self-awareness but that doesn't make it any less annoying or disappointing to see

4. the ridiculous mental gymnastics required to hate her so much while continuing to be a fan of the person who is married to her and in love with her lmao. sorry but if you truly think she's that irredeemable why are you still here

like. i hate msi and i go out of my way to avoid listening to them. but it's worth keeping in mind that the kind of shock-jock edgy gross music they wrote was not exclusive to msi in the 2000s. i hate it too and think it's stupid and counterproductive to whatever point it's supposedly trying to make but it was like. a thing for a while unfortunately. it was bad at the time and it aged even worse, but gerard and frank at the very least, and probably the others too, vocally enjoyed it. frank voluntarily chose to tour with msi and mcr performed with them multiple times and were always excited about it. if you truly think lynz's involvement with that band is indefensible, you should extend at least part of that criticism to mcr too. the amount of times i've seen people saying "omg frank hates lynz so much" is fucking ridiculous, and it's based entirely on the same kind of conjecture that led people to believe mcr didn't remain close friends after the breakup lol. if you have to make up things like that - or worse, make up and spread infidelity rumours or actual domestic abuse allegations (it's not even rare to see this on twitter) - to excuse their association with lynz/msi, you need to take a look at yourself tbh

this is partly a twitter-specific problem because that platform is literally set up to disallow meaningful or nuanced conversation but it's really exhausting to see hundreds of snippy "she's the devil" tweets and if you say anything vaguely critical of the the way fandom treats her you get immediately shot down with "why are you defending A Racist" with zero context or clarification. i hate to break it to you but if lynz is A Racist of an irredeemable level, so is gerard. hell, so is frank for blindly listening to and promoting black metal bands with nazi associations when he as a metal fan should know better and do his research. lynz's racism in question is the kind that's overwhelmingly common among liberal white women who are into witchcraft-type stuff. again, i am not condoning it, it's still wrong, but you cannot hold her to different standards than you do the guys in mcr. i'm just saying if you're able to acknowledge gerard's questionable statements and attitudes in the past, condemn them, acknowledge that he's changing and learning, but still go on liking him as a person and supporting his art...what is the reason you can't do the same for lynz.

i've seen people on twitter accuse lynz of plagiarism in an impressively tone-deaf misinterpretation of her art genre, sometimes the same people who would call gerard doing something similar a clever reference. i have literally seen people quote male members of MSI making sexually objectifying and openly misogynistic comments about lynz as some kind of gotcha saying "look, even her bandmates don't respect her" and like...if you can't see something deeply wrong with that i don't know what to tell you. i've seen COUNTLESS people bring up vague information "revealed" by her actual estranged family members on twitter after people stalked them to try to get dirt on lynz and if you think parroting back contextless one-sided information from other people's private family drama isn't a) about the least reliable source of information ever and b) deeply disgusting and inappropriate, i really don't know what to tell you

if you despise lynz to the point where you're in mcr's comments telling gerard to divorce her (again. i shouldn't have to say that this is disgusting behaviour) or booing when they perform summertime or accusing her of infidelity or abuse (which i cannot stress enough are rumours originally made up by frerard tinhatters) or anything like that, why are you even here. like what mental gymnastics are you doing to be able to remain a fan of gerard at this point. none of this is activism, if anything it's counterproductive to your point because it's indicative of the lack of critical thinking or maturity that's necessary when you're engaging with topics like casual/unconscious racism and normalised sexual abuse in the music industry

i'm probably not going to say more about this because this isn't really the hill i want to die on considering i don't even particularly like her myself but please i am begging you approach your dislike of lynz with just a little bit of critical thought and self-awareness instead of just blindly despising her for things that most of the men we blog about are also guilty of.

#the 'you' in here is the royal you im not accusing you specifically of all these things anon #i don't know what to tag this lol #answered #okay now back to fun times i habe pixels to stare at

515 notes · View notes

captnjacksparrow · 4 years ago

Note

I just got into the fandom and I love it so much. However, there are parts where I just cringe. I’m going to be completely honest when I say I can’t see SS being a thing, a healthy one at that. A rumor said that Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him. I just... find it utterly bullshit. Hell, even I do ship narusasu, I tried to be open minded and not fall too far off canon or the characters. I don’t understand how Sasuke had those feelings for her when all he did was shown the opposite and it felt genuine. He seem always annoyed and pushes her away. She kept forcing her feelings on him when he makes it clear that he’s not interested. I don’t hate the ship because it’s not my ship but because it’s extremely toxic. It feels one-sided (Sakura’s side) more than anything and it’s makes it hard to believe he had those feelings for her. I mean, on the second episode of season five, she confessed and poured out her heart and he blew it off. I cringed hard and was beyond disappointed because she’s making it about herself. That’s literally how I feel about their damn “relationship”. She made it about her and her only. When he’s hurting, it’s about her. It’s so annoying and it makes me see how self-centered Sakura. When she said she understood Sasuke, I wanted to scream (I nearly did but my family is sleeping and I don’t need a lecture.) She doesn’t know Jackshit about Sasuke besides he’s the only survivor of his decease clan, he’s a loner who cares only about himself, and he’s attractive. She’s just like every other fangirl expect she’s on his team. I’m trying my best not to hate her but Damn she’s really pushing it. Anything that annoyed me was that she made it seem like they were dating, again making it about herself and her feelings. She sent Naruto to get Sasuke for her benefits, so she can keep him. Again, disregarding Sasuke’s feelings and what he wanted. Naruto should’ve said “I’ll bring him back because HE wants too, to keep HIM safe, not for you.” I just can’t with this ship. I’m still wondering why the hell is it even a thing? Also find it beyond pitiful how she stayed with Sasuke in Boruto when he left for 12-13 years?! No note. No checking up. Nothing. Hell, Sarada doesn’t know how her own father looks like or the truth of her mother. Both of them were miserable and I find it absolutely ridiculous when SS shippers still say “they’re in love” or they’re OTP. If that’s what true love looks like (good thing it’s not), then I’d die single. I can’t be the only one who thinks this ship is just as bad as Harley Quinn x Joker.

First off, Thanks for this lovely ask @larrycherry04 ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I've always wanted to write about this and your ask is the perfect timing.

Disclaimer: SS shippers, Sakura fans!!! Don’t read this post!!

Me being an SNS shipper, I am just going to write this from a non-SNS perspective. Meaning, I am going to consider Naruto and Sasuke are just friends or rivals.

Bear with my lengthy answer.

Where do I even begin?

A rumor said that Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him.

I think this rumor is from a light novel called Akatsuki Hiden or whatever shit. But for me, it looks like a pathetic attempt to convince those horny women shippers who would pay any money to read a romance which mirrors their own love life where they desire an ‘unreachable & handsome’ man who has this ‘cool & overbearing’ aura and carries this ‘bad boy badass’ vibe. They would do anything to get the attention from this boy. Until this point is where the reality ends.

What they really wants to happen and fantasize is somehow that handsome man, one day, will look only them and recognize their love and becomes a ‘soft’ guy who would bring the heavens for them and treats her like a princess. That fantasy led them to buy these novels and believe everything while completely disregarding the canon material. And those novels are aimed at these type of women.

You must have been wondering now, ‘I have seen these type of shit somewhere’!!!!!

That’s right.

50 Shades of Grey, Twilight, Beauty and the Beast, 100′s of K-Drama, C-Drama follow this shit romance trope and it’s regrettably fucking popular.

In other words, Don’t believe anything apart from the canonic resources.

Let’s dissect the canon materials about SS.

TEAM 7

This is how it all started

Does anyone see anything positive here????

Well, I am not.

Sakura wanted to impress Sasuke. Since, Naruto always picks fight with Sasuke, she badmouthed Naruto in the hopes that Sasuke will recognize some common ground with her which may develop into a friendship. But she shot her own foot.

[Regardless, I hated her here and she never redeemed herself, for her being completely insensitive & oblivious towards Sasuke’s life, the boy she loves]

Technically, Sasuke should have said ‘You’re Annoying’ towards Naruto for kissing him before the class and tying him up later. Here, Sakura is simply badmouthing another guy. He, somehow, find this very annoying than anything Naruto did earlier.

Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him.

Am definitely not seeing any feelings here.

ZABUZA ARC

Alright, much later, somehow Sasuke started to integrate into team 7 and started to see them as a Family. No denial here. He started to care about everyone in his team at some point. Which was evident from the way he thought to himself, ‘That was Sakura’s voice... What is Kakashi doing?’

But does it means he hopelessly fell in love with her??? Nope.

It’s just a team camaraderie where he was worried about his teammate. If he has special feelings towards her, he should have said ‘I must go save Sakura’ or something along the line.

But, later in that episode, he went on to die for Naruto and even at his dying moments he didn’t think about Sakura or Team 7. It was all about someone else.

Even seconds before falling into Naruto’s arms, Sasuke was smiling with no regrets.

It was funny very later that after he got up from his temporary death, rather than consoling her like ‘Sakura, Don’t cry. Am alright’ or anything, he was asking ‘Where’s Naruto?’. LOL.

Even much later, when Sakura was asking him about a date, he bluntly said ‘I refuse’.

So, you’re telling me, throughout this arc, a boy blinded with hatred can able to pout, play childish games, train and die for a boy but when it comes to Sakura he can’t show his feelings???

Sorry, I don’t see romance here. Not in this arc.

Whether you agree or not, every parent has their favorite child, every child has their favorite parent. Even within your family, you always have a special person.

For Sasuke, Itachi was that person in his real family. Sakura was not that person in his Team 7 family. It was Naruto.

CHUNIN EXAMS ARC

This arc is where those SS shippers celebrates a lot and I know why. Remember earlier I talked about that shitty 50 Shades of Grey romantic trope??? The following scene vaguely falls under that pattern.

A guy loses his control because of a cursed seal and beats up the guys who hurt one of his teammates which happens to be a girl and calms down after seeing the girl.

That Infamous back hug.

I understand why SS people lose their mind with that scene. And I don’t blame them. I am going to throw their own proof at them.

So, this First databook, tells us that he finally sees both Naruto and Sakura as comrades and his heart softens from the path of revenge, a little bit.

Definitely, Sakura’s tears or love towards him stopped his rampage. But nothing says about whether Sasuke loves her back.

Much later, Sasuke also stops his cursed seal on his own after thinking about worried Sakura and a screaming Naruto (Who don’t know about this seal thingy at that time).

Well, whatever. That databook has another funny fact, that too in the same page.

LOL. Weird!!!! This accidental kiss unravels Sasuke’s heart ❤️❤️???? 🤣🤣🤣

So, influencing Sasuke’s heart can be attributed to both his teammates,according to this databook. Atleast upto this arc. There are no special feelings for Sakura alone, guys.

Proof?

If Sasuke really considers her in a romantic light (this is after that back hug), he doesn’t have to do this at all. Believe me, Love is all about subconsciously or purposefully enjoying or feeling little touches. Those touches can be through eyes, memories or physical. Sakura is delighted with his touch because she loves him but Sasuke just see her as a comrade and keeping his distance but this time very politely.

If Kishi really likes these couple, he doesn’t have to make this scene at all. It’s not just this one instance, he rejected her twice very bluntly before this saying ‘Don’t cling to me!!!’, ‘Sakura, you’re heavy!!!’.

If you say her back hug is a token of romance, then I can say ‘this’ kiss is also a token of romance. You can’t ignore one while keeping the other.

Anyways, at the end of the arc, Orochimaru is the best judge to identify who can change Sasuke’s heart. And that person is not Sakura.

DEPARTURE

she confessed and poured out her heart and he blew it off. I cringed hard and was beyond disappointed because she’s making it about herself. That’s literally how I feel about their damn “relationship”. She made it about her and her only. When he’s hurting, it’s about her. It’s so annoying and it makes me see how self-centered Sakura. When she said she understood Sasuke, I wanted to scream (I nearly did but my family is sleeping and I don’t need a lecture.) She doesn’t know Jackshit about Sasuke besides he’s the only survivor of his decease clan, he’s a loner who cares only about himself, and he’s attractive.

You know what, Larry??? You are 1000% right.

But, atleast, I thought she was genuine in the first part of the proposal, like saying ‘Revenge is not good’.....bla bla.. Because, Revenge will never satisfy a person completely and I agree. Then she took a 180 degree by saying ‘Take me with you, Sasuke-Kun. I’ll make you happy’. This is where I lost it entirely. ‘Alright Bitch, So you really don’t care about his revenge or health. As long as you have the chance to get inside his pants, you are okay with it. So you are okay with Sasuke going to Orochimaru as long as you are with him..... Fucking Shit!!!!’ This is not okay at all.

How did Sasuke respond?

“Why should I have to tell you anything”

“I’m telling you to keep your nose out of my business”

“Stop bothering me over everything I do”

Ummm..... where I come from, this screams ‘Irritation’ to me. Added to it, throughout the whole conversation he never saw her face. There was evidently no pain or anything from his face. On top the cake, here comes the cherry

“You really are...annoying”

This is where he saw her face throughout that painful confession before knocking her out. Umm... When you love someone or atleast feel for someone, you will look in their eyes and speak some farewell words before you leave. Or atleast show some pain??? There’s visibly nothing from Sasuke’s face.

Alright, I know what SS wankers will pull out here. That Databook 2 with some vague words. I am going to throw this at them.

Again, like I acknowledged before, he considers her as a comrade and part of a family. So, her existence also eased his loneliness. But you have to look at the word choice here. “The one that filled his lonely existence was Sakura”. It’s not the ‘Only’ person. Before he left he said ‘Thanks’. Meaning, Thanks for all these days. That’s all between us.

This piece was about the Team 7 picture. So he acknowledges, he was not alone during his genin days because of his companions and Kakashi (so it’s not just Sakura to ease his loneliness). Whatever he said to Sakura was real.

So can we safely confirm “You’re annoying” is real????

But what’s really interesting is the way Sasuke projects himself before Naruto. I am going to refrain myself from attaching all those rollercoaster of emotions flowed throughout the fight in VoTE 1. Otherwise, it will become an SNS post.

However, this particular scene caught my attention.

Ummm.... Initially Sasuke walks without looking at Naruto. Then he looks back and answers him.

Naruto was pretty much asking the same question as Sakura. “Why does it come to this?”

But Sasuke pauses and surprised for a moment and asks him pretty much “Why do you care about me?”

Why couldn’t Sasuke do the same with Sakura???? Kishi can pretty much make a panel or two rather than making some insulting panels.

Anyways, If they throw the databook, then I can also throw the same.

Alright, can someone explain the highlighted sentence for me???? Because I want to confirm whether I have a blurry vision.

Here, Sasuke is trying to punctuate Naruto as a different person from the rest of his companions. ‘his companions as well as that with Naruto’, I mean, Come on!!!! Naruto is also one of your companions along with Sakura. Why differentiate????

‘The village, companions, Naruto,....’ . Again....He is differentiating his home (village), companions (his friends), and Naruto. So who is Naruto for him? What is the need to make exception for Naruto? It’s very clear he is placing Naruto at a high pedestal for some unknown reasons.

Before this Databook dissection, remember I said something about saying Goodbye, ‘ When you love someone or at least feel for someone, you will look into that person’s eyes and speak some farewell words before you leave‘

Sasuke is doing exactly that here in this scene without saying anything.

Am sorry SS shippers, you can scream all you want about Sasuke knocked her out and left her on the bench. But there was no emotional distraught when he left her. Sasuke seemingly spent a longer time staring at Naruto than looking at Sakura when she confessed.

OROCHIMARU HIDEOUT

Well, there is nothing I can say about here for SS. He pretty much saw her and said, “Sakura, huh?”.. And that’s all. He didn’t give two shits about her.

His attention was completely on someone else.

UNDER THE BRIDGE

She sent Naruto to get Sasuke for her benefits, so she can keep him. Again, disregarding Sasuke’s feelings and what he wanted. Naruto should’ve said “I’ll bring him back because HE wants too, to keep HIM safe, not for you.”

Naruto pretty much said the same thing in this arc, Larry. Naruto, in part 1, was happy for Sakura feeling the same about Sasuke as him, that is ‘To bring him back’. And also sad that his crush really loves someone else. But after Sakura gave up on Sasuke and faking her confession, Naruto decided, ‘Alright, I want to save him personally. I don’t care about our promise anymore”.

This is where, SS ship goes into a crazy ride and it’s not a positive one.

Sasuke was on a rampage. He lost the ability to differentiate between his friends and foes. He stabbed Karin. And when he find her alive, he was about to Chidori her.

And then comes the pink princess, full of lies and deceit. And Sasuke being impatient and disgusted with her lies, he does this

Well, in part 1, she had a degree of power to change his heart. But not here. He, instead, got riled up more and even tried to kill her without a warning and that too by not looking at her face. Pathetic!!!!

This scene screams ‘Trust issues’ from both sides.

Did it stop here???

Fucking Shit!!!!!! Is there any people who still ship this nonsense?. If you are a Sakura fan, you should hate her for the lack of trust and backstabbing the person she loves,

If you are a Sasuke fan, errrrmmm.....I have nothing to say. You know what to do.

There is nothing positive here, that can make me ship them. He is killing her like a Mosquito.

If you truly loved someone in the past, even in your darkest moments, you will be honest and you cannot fake before that person.

Proof??

Here, Sasuke had a clear resolve to kill his brother, Itachi. He lived for this moment for about 8 years and immersed himself in Darkness for 3 years with Orochimaru. He could have run away, dodge or look away from Itachi. But Sasuke simply couldn’t!!! You know why?? Sasuke loved Itachi once more than anything in this world. At this moment, he is letting all those defense loose and embracing the moment and see what Itachi was about to do. Because somewhere in his heart he trusts Itachi.

But killing Sakura doesn’t make Sasuke feel anything. She is just another victim like Danzo or Karin or all those Samurais or a fucking mosquito!!!!

So you are telling me that Sasuke had feelings for her but kept it hidden all along and still tried to kill her like a pest???

Give me a fucking break!!!!

And you all know, who changed Sasuke’s heart here in this scene. It was not Sakura. There’s absolutely no reason for Sasuke to listen to that person and what’s more, Sasuke even made a promise (despite being in darkness, he had it in his heart to listen to that person) to destroy Konoha only after killing that person ..

WAR ARC

Well, this is the arc where Sakura behaves like a rabid dog on heat waiting for Sasuke and shamelessly trying to wag her tails. But Sasuke didn’t give two shits about her, not once or twice but multiple times.

MOMENT 1

An explosion was about to kill the whole shinobi alliance and this dude wants to save Jugo, his companion and Naruto, the person who will challenge his Revolution, his rival and the one whom he wants to kill. Why only Naruto??? Why not Naruto and Sakura???

Pink cherry Queen doesn’t even crossed Sasuke’s mind. Because he already threw her away in part 1.

MOMENT 2

Alright Bitch!!! The entire shinobi alliance was dying on the other side of the battlefield. And this asshole is doing a clownshow before Madara just to get inside Sasuke’s pants????

I mean, Come On!!!!

Well, if Sasuke truly likes her, he should be the one to have catched her or atleast should have asked her, ‘are you alright??’

I am sorry, where are the romantic feelings???

MOMENT 3

ROFLLLL🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

For the first time, Kishimoto is trolling those Sakutards through Sasuke’s words, what we, readers were right about all along. He is calling her useless here. And still these fake feminazis trying to ship her with him???

Don’t you guys have any self respect??? If so, this should be the moment to jump out of this trash ship.

MOMENT 4

Geez!!! You are still on this ship?????

He clearly doesn’t want to save her at all. The hawk can clearly lift 3 people. Sasuke is not even making an effort here.

And you are still yapping that he is blinded by darkness???

MOMENT 5

This is the moment SS calls it as ‘eyesmex’... While in reality, he was just looking at her and silently thanking her for helping him out. Do you know what is a real ‘eyesmex’??? I will attach it at the end.

If you guys pull this as true love, then he should have stayed in the same love till the end. But Sasuke has other ideas.

This is the one of the funniest thing in this arc. LOLLLLL

Instead of being relieved that Sakura was saved, Sasuke was wondering about Kakashi’s Susanoo.....and Sharingan.

Do people still think he cares about her????

MOMENT 6

Am cackling here, while dissecting the sorry state of this ship guys 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣!!!! If something good happens to me because of SS , it’s just the way you guys are making me laugh by making a clown out of yourself!!!!

Do you guys know something? There was a man named Itachi. Before massacring his clan, the very first person he killed was his ‘supposed’ Girlfriend, named Izumi. I wouldn’t say Itachi loved her like a lover boy. It was just one sided on her part. He just talks to her when he finds a spare time and considers her a good friend.

Do you know how he killed her?

By putting her in a ‘Tsukuyomi’. And what kind of Tsukuyomi, you ask?

Can you see how he fulfilled her dreams gracefully before he was going to kill her???

Why didn’t Sasuke do this???? Why particularly select a murdering genjutsu????

MOMENT 7

He said it, finally.

He don’t love her at all. There was no hidden feelings. He admitted from his own mouth.

One day later, after the final VoTE battle ends.... After exchanging some intense feelings and even crying tears of happiness with Naruto....

Sasuke tells Sakura, ‘Sorry’....

Ummm.... That’s all???

All those negative shits happened before cannot be solved by just simply saying ‘Sorry’ and ‘Thank you’. If someone has an ounce of self-respect, they should know this is not OKAY at all...🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️

Am Sorry, but Sasuke was just being politely blunt, kind of insincere towards Sakura and turned his attention somewhere else in a matter of minutes. He was not even bothered by Sakura’s tears here. Instead staring at someone on his left. Remember I talked about touching the person physically and visually?

Sasuke is subconsciously or purposefully touching someone on his left through his eyes. Definitely it’s not Sakura. You know who it is. Remember SStards’ infamous ‘eyesmex’... I seriously believe this is a perfect example of ‘eyesmex’.

All these intense looks and feeling pain still doesn’t serve Sakura, even after pulled out of darkness. If there is a moment, where SS wants to shine, then this is where it should be. He should have told her, how he missed her all along, how he felt about hurting her, should have wiped her tears and some corny shit. But instead, Sasuke went for a long ass monologue for his friend and talking about sharing his pain.

What about your kween’s pain????

You don’t have to ship SNS. But you should know where Sasuke’s priorities are.

It’s not Sakura.

Sasuke said ‘Sorry’ to Karin too. ‘Thank you’ to Kakashi as well.

And what’s even more pathetic is, still Sakura wants to get inside Sasuke’s pants by accompanying him. Bitch, you can help your village, console your best friend Ino who lost her father, try to surpass Tsunade, improve your skills or whatever... Why bother him???

So, if you really think ‘Thank you’ as a token of love, then I can’t help it but term Sakura as a rabid dog who waits for her master to come home and throw some bones whenever he finds time. Your standards for a romantic love is piss poor and you will suffer just like Sakura in Boruto with just emptiness. All Sasuke did was poke her forehead just like Itachi which symbolizes keeping someone at a distance. He also said the same words to her just like Itachi said to him many times ‘Mata kondo da’ meaning ‘Maybe next time’. And we all knew that next time never came for Sasuke.

Now all we see is a Sasuke as an absentee father in Boruto for which I don’t blame him. He was never a marriage material in the first place. Sakura and the Manga Editors forced him and she is paying for it.

Hell, Sarada doesn’t know how her own father looks like or the truth of her mother. Both of them were miserable and I find it absolutely ridiculous when SS shippers still say “they’re in love” or they’re OTP.

All I want to say to SS shippers is, Your Ship Has Sailed Already. You cannot expect Sasuke to go lovey dovey towards Sakura with a 12 year old daughter around and for fuck’s sake, this is not a romance manga, it’s a battle manga. So stop dreaming about this kind of non-existential romance and pull yourself altogether.

#naruto analysis #ask #sasunaru #sasunarusasu #anti sakura #anti sasusaku

159 notes · View notes

touchmycoat · 4 years ago

Text

on Promising Young Woman

i was hesitant to watch bc i knew a spoiler, but @trixree convinced me to watch it and i’m very glad i did. all things aside, it’s just damn well-written—pacing’s top-notch, every act shift was action-driven with a female lead, and it balanced the pleasure of a revenge fantasy against the soul of the story SO well.

thoughts & spoilers below

elephant in the room: yeah I hesitated to watch the movie because I know Cassie gets murdered in the end. After watching the scenes that followed, I...have a better understanding of why that was the choice. I still hated that it happened, period. I literally said “fuck you” out loud to the morning after shot, with the sunlight pouring down on her in the white outfit and she had her arms outstretched—yes, she’s a martyr, yes, she’s the “morning angel,” but fuck that, I didn’t need her to be a martyr. I so desperately wanted the movie to give her more than that.

Like Jenna and Wesley said, it was a superhero movie. That lasted until the choice to kill her.

Thoughts on why they did it: for the ironic morning after, where the audience sees not-Zac Efron sob and whine about how he’s going to lose his marriage and family and job after he just knowingly murdered a woman. Where we get to see Schmidt (fnjdnfjdnf what a casting choice, i lost my mind) say the words to Al Monroe that women like Nina needed to hear—it’s not your fault. None of it was your fault. We get to see the violent and continuous forgiveness of men that dead girls have and continue to pay for.

But my question is, what part of the movie managed to give the audience comfort that legal authority is the solution to this problem? The ending felt squeaky clean wrapped-up, yes, but the anxiety that ran deepest for me throughout this entire film was the fact that Cassie was leaving these men alive. All the men she’s found in the clubs, the man whose car she smashed, the entire law firm that specializes in burying rape cases—to me, every man she left alive was one more factor that could come back and bite her. That was my concern, and it was by no means alleviated by the scene with Bo Burnham and the detective right before the wedding.

I guess that circles back to the question of what the film is trying to be, though. It’s a different take on a revenge thriller. It isn’t meant to deliver a smash-burn-kill catharsis. Rather, it operates on a realer level. Which I love, actually! When she told the fedora guy that she’s not the only one who does it, it felt like a very enticing call-to-action lmao, and like a moment that ought to haunt the “good guys” that watch this film. The movie did so well to manifest and deliver the “enough is fucking enough” attitude that everybody ought to have about sexual assault under the influence.

More on why they killed Cassie: to really lean into the specter of Nina who has so haunted the entire narrative. Even handcuffed to the bed, Al Monroe never said the word “rape.” Nobody wants to, they keep skirting around it and refusing to acknowledge it for what it is. That’s why the movie does it for us, the audience. Instead of saying it, the movie gives its thesis on what rape actually is—a murder. A squeezing-out of a woman’s existence. Al Monroe rapes and kills Nina Fisher before the start of the movie, and the movie ends with Al Monroe killing Cassie. It ends with the violent burning of Cassie’s body, and fucking Schmidt kicking her hand with the childishly painted nails back into the bonfire. The parallel destruction of women is evident.

Did the ending feel like enough of a resurrection?

On a fandom level, I am happy to do the work of seeing the Romance in it. Cassie evidently anticipated her own death, perhaps even sought it—it’s easy to picture a fic focused on Cassie’s thoughts pre-bachelor party, where she’s just so happy to finally be joining Nina again. Where she gets to sign a text Love, Cassie & Nina. I fucking adore how much of an agent she was in the action throughout the entire movie, and the ending definitely did some work in resurrecting that agency.

On a real life level though, I’m so, so fucking sad she essentially had to commit suicide to get the justice she sought. She really is a martyr, but no part of the story indicated she was happy to be. There’s no relief in what she chose—it was simply what had to be done, because nobody else would do a goddamn thing.

Oh boy, the movie did so well to play Ryan as a good guy up until the very end. When time came for him to own up to his mistakes, he flipped like a fucking dime. Suck it #NotAllMen.

The evocations of childhood were interesting. We have the notebook, the scrunchie, the pink bedroom, the childhood photos, the juice box, the friendship necklaces, the painted nails. What is that doing?

- It’s a visual touch point for the arc words “we were just kids!” used as a protestation by rapists and assaulters to excuse their actions. Men get to be “kids” who made mistakes, women get repeated insistence that their actions have consequences, that they shouldn’t have gotten that drunk.

- It signifies Cassie’s vulnerability, her childhood best friend that she’s never been able to move on from. Functionally, I thought it was a brilliant way of grounding how tender the center of her story is, that she’s actually operating from a very simplistic point of pain and loss, considering how cool and violent she gets to be throughout most of the movie.

- It becomes a symbol for destroyed innocence when it’s the last bit of Cassie we see before her body’s burned. The movie re-positioned the meaning of this word “innocence,” I think. It’s not about women being ruined after rape, it’s about these women being people. Cassie’s last monologue about Nina does so much work to hammer that home—Nina’s value was never about innocence before or after her assault, it was never diminished. She was loved because of who she was as a person, but Al Monroe squeezed the life out of her anyways. Childhood and innocence become about the happiness that existed before men attacked, and the men get to symbolically destroy it one more time with a kick into the pyre. But then comes the resurrection, and in a way, the movie returns Cassie to that happiness with the last texts she got to sign with her best friend and a winky face.

The penitent lawyer was a hell of a narrative choice. I did accept it, and I like it mainly for what it showed of Cassie—that she is capable of forgiveness. By putting the scene with Nina’s mother right after, it transitions Cassie into a spot of hope pretty damn effectively. I also like that it didn’t take Cassie’s emotional labor to get the lawyer to that place, and that he was already self-flagellating (the dead plants behind Cassie in that apartment were a great touch) before she got there. I like the possibility that Cassie could have forgiven herself for not being there for Nina.

That’s why I’m so damn mad she’s dead!!!! She recognized how destructive her pattern of behavior is, and put an effort to stop that for herself and for her relationship with people she cares about. Yeah, Ryan proved an asshole, but it wasn’t even about him!! She laid it clean out for that guy!! No forgiveness. He was not an innocent bystander. He does not get to get away with anything, and all the ways he chose to behave after the fact just further proves it!

Cassie was stunning, and dangerous, and incredible. Narratively, she really could have gotten away with it. I don’t want to buy this finale, that it takes the destruction of another woman to bring justice to the first. I don’t care how neatly framed it was, that was not a happy ending.

#promising young woman #it was fucking great #and i'm still fuming about it

39 notes · View notes

cyberfairyblog · 4 years ago

Text

Why Jillian Sucks

Hi, welcome to Odyssey Mystery Hour! I'm your host @gritsandbrits and today I'll be talking about a hot topic in the AIO fandom! Wanna know the tea? Keep on reading!

In the weeks I started getting back into the radio series, the newer episodes have started to irk me, mostly because of one of the more annoying additions: Jillian. Marshall. 😬😬😬

Even though I ship Jason with my self insert OC this not going to be about her. There's a lot of reasons why I do NOT like the idea of Jillian x Jason becoming a canon thing on the show. I hope to describe these feelings as best I can.

Who is Jillian you might ask?

Well to put it simply, Jillian is what happens when a Soccer Mom and a TikTok boyfriend mate and spawn an unholy baby and name them Rachel Berry. Out of the aspects of Nu!Odyssey I dislike, Jillian is the one thing I truly despise. Thankfully I've met fans who share the exact sentiment! 😁😒

Double-N Annoying, Double-O Nincompoop

Making her debut in 2018, Jillian is described as lively and upbeat, if a little high strung and immature; the perfect recipe for Kid Appeal! Before she moved to Odyssey she lived in different cities and worked nineteen jobs before becoming roommates with Connie and her sister Jules.

Now this is actually a fairly interesting set up: a new character struggling to find purpose only to discover it in a quaint small town. But as it turns out her going through that many jobs seems to be more than just struggling to find purpose.

When I first saw her design my thought immediately went to the smarmy classmates I went to school with.

We're introduced with this iconic line: "Hi!! I'm Jillian Marshall, double-L Jillian, double-L Marshall! It's so nice to meet you!"

With that one sentence I knew I was about to die.

The following episode has Jillian bumbling through every job interview much to Connie's duress after which she conveniently ending up working at Triple J Antiques...the same place Jason works!

A little backstory on Jason: he is the adult son of John Whittaker, one of the show's main character, and a bit of an Ensemble Darkhorse. He was introduced as a secret agent meant to bring action and intrigue into the show. He was set up as a charismatic and reckless sort of guy clashing with the calmer Jack Allen. After the Green Ring Conspiracy Saga, Jason officially retired from James Bonding and settled down to work at the Allen's antique shop.

Given his immense popularity there's understandable concern for how he is written and who he gets paired up with. So what does that have to do with Jillian.

Well, the idea of Jillian working at the same exact place as Odyssey's resident bachelor and calling him cute raises a few eyebrows.

"B-but Grits all she did was call him cute! You're reaching too far into this!"

Am I? Look I know this wouldn't be much of a big deal too but that is a subtle tactic the writers threw in to get the cogs turning for Jillison. Jason is clearly uninterested and even implied to dislike her. Jillian bemoans this but Connie reassures her that that's not the case. But hey at least she called him cute so OF COURSE she's going to end up being his love interest!

To me removing a character's core trait to justify a romance means you do NOT know how to actually write a compelling romance. It's trite, it's forced and painful to listen to.

It's also obvious she's a replacement for Bernard, given they have similar personalities and her brief stint on TV (which she also failed at lol). But whereas Bernard was actually endearing, Jillian seems more of a cliche womanchild with zero self awareness and tact. No actual depth, just a personality that is incredibly dumbed down and even insulting. Seriously they made her the dumb blond stereotype in an era where we should've moved on from that! 🤦

Did I mention she goes to church?

Yep she's gonna be one of those Christians.

Literally Loveless, Literally!

Oddly enough the narrative frames this as a rivals to lovers thing, where Jason is both the charismatic friendly guy and the super uninterested Straight Man. The constant twisting the turning makes him go OOC. See we know he's fit better as the former because that goes in line with his canon personality. But when they make him the latter he just comes off as unnecessarily mean. This is turns frames Jillian as someone we should pity: "Oh the attractive male doesn't like me because I went into his office without permission!!"

Wouldn't it make more sense for Jillian to be the one uninterested in a romance since her focus in to find a job/better purpose and romance might distract her? That would make a fun subplot...IF SHE WASN'T OBNOXIOUS!

A pattern I noticed and several fans pointed out: Jason's previous love interests were consistent in that they were strong minded women who challenged him in different ways. Their personalities bounced off creating a fun dynamic that was entertaining to see. Even though they didn't end up with him, you can still see and hear and feel their chemistry which is my goal for Jason x OC. Tasha doesn't make Jason OOC & they had a bittersweet arc, so their interactions were organic. Monica only made him OOC because she was a villain actively manipulating him. So again that worked in terms of story and led to Monica's redemption if my memory serves.

However, Jillian's dynamic is not that fun to listen to. You can feel her annoying Jason through the airwaves. She's strong but only in the sense of feeling something hard underneath your back laying on the bed and realizing that's just your earbud. She's vibrant yes but what else? She doesn't have any unique traits to contrast Jason, and any attempt at a contrast would mean making him act out of character. Adding her bumbling clumsiness and annoying voice, Jason would get tired of her very quickly. He's the type to go for people to have intelligent conversations with, not make him lose braincells. She could very well bring out the worse in him, it'll be an unhealthy relationship.

Here's a tidbit worth mentioning: the VA for Jillian actually auditioned with Jason's VA Townsend Coleman. Now that is big ass red flag right there! No hate towards the actress, just throwing that out there. There's also a facebook page dedicated to Jillison. Typical FB stupidity ramped up to eleven, or AIO fans who see something in Jillian; or at least THINk they see something worthwhile in her.

It doesn't help the writers keep insisting that these two go well together. The audience knows they do not work well as a pair but the narrative keeps insisting they are anyways. I recall an episode that had them pretend to be married while undercover and it was bad. Like REALLY humiliating to see Jason put in that position. He also told her to shut up much to my joy because she could NOT stop being irritating for five minutes. Alas the show still tries to justify Jillian being the Perfect Woman for Jason when she's anything but. And not even endearingly imperfect.

Follow Up

These tags I wrote on one of the AIO posts describes how I feel about Villain Marshall and the Jillison coupling as a whole. It just wouldn't work because Jason needs someone that can actually CHALLENGE him, have their own personality that can bounce off his (without being forced), and most importantly DOESN'T AGGRAVATE THE FANDOM!!

I have not met a single person anywhere that say they like Jillian. It's a different story apparently on the Club App - they like her for reasons I'm too cowardly to find out. But no, she sucks as a character. She makes a annoying friend, and is not a good addition to the show, much less a good love interest.

The only good thing she brought us are the nicknames we gave her 😌

That's all for now thank you for tuning into the Odyssey Mystery Hour. Next week I'll be talking a bit more about my OC Vanessa and her role in the world of Odyssey! Goodbye and make sure to lock your doors to prevent Jillian from coming in!!

#adventures in odyssey #jason whittaker #anti jillison #aio #rant #radio drama #adventures in odyssey radio show #jillian marshall #anti jillian marshall

28 notes · View notes

bookofmirth · 4 years ago

Note

I think there's a disconnect in this fandom when it comes to shipping and viewing characters on an individual scale. For instance, I can like a certain character and not ship him/her with XYZ. Or....I can dislike a certain character and not ship him/her with XYZ. The whole point of shipping is to ship two people you feel are compatible with each other.

Lately it seems people forget to separate the characters from their ship (it's all or nothing) and I think that's part of what leads to the negative discourse in this fandom because people get protective of their ship when someone else has a different opinions.

It's either, "you're delusional!" or "you only ship A+B together because you hate C."

The first comment quite frankly doesn't warrant a response because people are allowed to ship whoever they genuinely want and shouldn't be called out for it. As for the latter, I don't particularly find an issue with it because people have their reasons to dislike a character so why would they stans a couple they're not fond of? As an example, I'm going to use Azriel and Elain (let me preface this by saying I'm Feysand all the way so I'm not particularly invested in the other couples. I'm really just along for the ride because I need more Feysand 😅). Back to my point, people forget that there are valid reasons to dislike Azriel or Elain separately or together. That does make the people who don't stans these two together toxic but it seems people often equate it to mean the same when they are not.

Toxic is saying Elain or any other character should die just because. Toxic is straight up bullying other stans for having a different opinion (name calling, lack of trying to understand where they're coming from etc). Toxic is telling an OP to go kill himself/herself/themselves.

I think if people will just take off their shipping goggles for a hot minute and actually have an open mind, we can all understand each other a little better.

You don't stans Elain & Lucien together because he makes her uncomfortable? I can see where you're coming from. Let me tell you how I look at it.

You think Azriel has a disturbing mentality and pattern with putting women on a pedestal. Interesting. Let me tell you what I think.

You think Rhys was in the wrong to keep the the risk of Feyre's pregnancy from her. Here's what I think.

We don't necessarily all have to agree with each other but gaining different perspectives and keeping things civil is what makes fandom fun. At least...that's how it used to be.

Anyways, hope I made sense.

Have a lovely day!

I wish more people thought like you, anon. It would be super great if people could just step back and remove the ship that has been surgically attached to their personality, and realize that the ship is made of two characters who are individuals who have separate histories and potentially separate futures (in the sense that not every single second of my life revolves around my partner, no matter how close we are.)

The whole "you're delusional" thing, you're right, it doesn't actually warrant a response. It's an ad hominem attack and is really effective at derailing conversation, but it's... pointless. None of us are delusional at this point, even people I completely disagree with lmao. We all have the way we read the previous books, and the next ones don't exist. It's really a silly comment to make, and I usually try to let it roll off my back.

The "you only ship A + B because you hate C" is also sooooo annoying. First off, so what if I did? I can hate whatever character I want. Second, you don't know that I hate C? I could have very valid reasons for not liking that ship. Like you said, maybe I just don't see them as compatible together but I can still like them as individuals. I like Elain - I don't ship her with Az because I don't think they are compatible at all. (Again, that would require people seeing the characters as individuals in the first place.) (Also if anything, can I just say, if people want to say that I don't them because I hate a character, it would definitely be for my dislike of Azriel. At least get that straight.)

God it must be weird being in this fandom still just for feysand. What a relatively peaceful existence. You must be laughing at the rest of us constantly. 😂

Your examples at the end are perfect, and it's what I personally want to encourage more. But there is an important thing you did:

LISTEN. OMG we need to listen to each other, not just assume "oh you're a gwynriel insert fandom baggage and history here".

Explain our perspective without judging. Just as a counter. A possibility, because none of us can be right 100% of the time and that's okay.

I'm honestly not sure why these things are so hard. Or when they become difficult. It was NOT like this before acosf came out. I miss the old days, even though I felt like I had hardly anyone on my side in shipping elucien.

I hope you have a lovely day as well!

#acotar fandom #acotar #fandom things #ask #anon

11 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Note

jaune killing penny put him in the position ozpin was at the end pyrrha made her choice to accept the maiden powers which could have possibly caused her to lose who she was ( her personality changing in a metaphorical death) while penny made her choice related to the maiden powers ( both involving cinder) jaune was angry at qrow and ozpin because he felt they sacrificed pyrrha over maiden powers

I wouldn’t say Jaune was put into Ozpin’s position. There was risk to Pyrrha accepting the Maiden powers, certainly, but ultimately it was a hopeful gamble: best case scenario, if the machine works then Pyrrha gets the Maiden powers while still remaining herself, or enters a dual existence like Ozma has with his hosts, and the powers remain safe from Cinder. The hope of a good outcome is what drove that decision. In contrast, Jaune is just doing damage control for a death that’s supposedly inevitable, though it’s written in a way that makes him seem far too willing. What I mean is, since Volume 3 anti-Ozpin viewers have argued extensively that Pyrrha’s death was his fault. Never-mind that the plan failed, Ozpin told her to leave, and Pyrrha decided against his orders to fight Cinder... he’s at fault. Because something something the pressure of being the Maiden “forced” Pyrrha to try and take on Cinder alone (because that martyr perspective definitely doesn’t have anything to do with growing up in the world spotlight, to the point where she’s on cereal boxes and has a statue made of her). We were given a character who actively asked for permission from a willing, informed woman again and again, yet the fandom was quick to label him as a murderer. Now, we have a character who is quick to kill, putting aside his own healing semblance because when the woman who has spent the last volume saying “Kill me” and “leave me behind as a distraction” now says “a mercy kill is the only option” he thinks he should take that at face value. To be clear, I’m not criticizing Jaune as a character — he was put into a horrific position and was clearly gutted about it — but rather the way RT chose to write his scene and how the fandom has ignored textual evidence to praise the characters they already love and condemn the ones they already hate. If we’re really going to compare these scenarios, Ozpin is the one who did everything possible to keep Pyrrha safe, Jaune is the one who — from the audience’s perspective — put aside a very obvious way to help Penny and jumped straight to helping her do what she’d been trying to do all season: kill herself to help everyone else.

Even if we do say that Jaune has some sort of parallel to Ozpin now, that makes things worse. Jaune is not a main character. He should not be getting these emotionally deep plotlines while Team RWBY is dealing with... what exactly? Weiss hasn’t had a real arc in ages, Blake only has her slowly growing relationship with Yang, and Yang and Ruby have had one conversation about grimm!Summer so far... interrupted by Jaune rushing in to inform them about Penny. I keep seeing claims that he is a main character, that he needs this development, but those same pockets of fandom complain about any screen time Nora, Ren, or Oscar get under the claim that they’re not main characters, as well as ignoring the comparative development Jaune has already gotten across the series. The argument of “Team JNR is as much MCs as Team RWBY now” only seems to apply when stuff is happening for Jaune... which shows that pockets of the fandom don’t really want our cast to expand to seven characters of equal importance, they just want Jaune, as an individual, to be as important as Team RWBY. But even if we decide that’s a good thing for the show as a whole, Jaune is arguably more developed than some of our main team. Both he and Ruby have had their leadership woes. Jaune has the bullying arc to overcome and has been given the most development in terms of power and skill. He shoulders the majority of the grief for Pyrrha, despite her having two other teammates and Ruby personally witnessing her death. Jaune gets the important armor upgrade/moment in the locker, Blake’s weapon is fixed off screen. His semblance reveal is given center stage and necessitates grievously harming one of the women (notice a pattern?) to forward that development — never-mind letting Weiss work through nearly dying. His grief is given the most attention at the statue, even though this excursion is supposedly about looking for Oscar. His group (with only one Team RWBY member) gets the majority of the action this volume. He’s the one given the task of killing Penny. He’s the only non-Team RWBY hero to fall into the void. He, as you say, is the one who get to be angry at Qrow even though that’s Ruby’s uncle and that Pyrrha was Ren and Nora’s teammates too. Trying to draw more parallels between Jaune and the lore significant/incredibly powerful mentor doesn’t make this situation look any better.

#rwby #mymetas #devotedlyvirtualcloud

24 notes · View notes

honestsycrets · 5 years ago

Text

Thank the Vanir | [ Ivar x Reader ]

❛ pairing | Ivar x Reader

❛ prompt | It was bananas with Ivar, but I changed it to Apples. Written for my patron @alicedopey

❛ summary | None of your friends know the truth; you rather they stay that way. Ivar celebrates a new beginning.

❛ warnings | impotency implied, functional family dynamic (no brothers bitching at each other as in the show), pregnancy mention, soft!ivar, squabbling OCs, pure f l u f f

❛ sy’s notes | here is the first of my squares filled for my Summer Patreon Party event! Best to start off with my favourites: pregnancy. I don’t have other preggo fics this event so, cheers! Another fic will hitcha tomorrow.

Ivar hates it when you don’t listen to his suggestions. They are simple enough; Don’t stress yourself with the birds. But you have this awful habit of not listening to what he asks. He breaches the doorway of his Great Hall after a long day in the soft sun.

“--he was this big,” says your blonde headed friend Alva, whose hands were like a man’s, plump and strong. Ivar wonders what magic she has. It has to be something to bring in the sort of men that she did. Maybe it was her mouth.

“Big or small?” prompts your lifelong friend, Revna. Her hand weaves your hair into divine memorized patterns. Under and under, they both weave patterns into your hair. Revna mouths around a pin, easing it into place on your head. “Are you so sure?”

Though you’re tired, exhausted even-- the women sit on the ledge of his throne, braiding your hair into something new and pretty. He glances off from his place at the mouth of the his Great Hall, listening to your friend’s incessant chittering between his men eating their dinners at the many tables.

“Big! I told you, big!”

“Little Hvitserk isn’t that big. He is more like…. This,” Revna clasps her hands over Alva’s hands, leaning them in, then barks in her haughty laughter looking toward you. “Isn’t he, isn’t he?”

“Ah! What would she know!?” Alva pouts, looping ties around your pre-existing braids.

“Perhaps it is genetic!”

“There finished. There, look how pre-- Wait,” she leans in, her black eyes prodding you for an answer. You hide behind your bowl of berries. It’s not time yet for your favourite fruit-- apples-- to be in season. So you’re stuck with the tart berries, shaking your head in disapproval as she spoke. “You’ve never slept with Hvitserk, have you? Wait. They shared that slave. What was her name, what was her name…”

“Margrethe.”

At last you speak. It’s something soft and gentle, something that prompts him to limp closer to save you. His calibers shift in place and his body follows suit with them. His back straightens and pulls up, each jab pierces the wooden plates under his hovering. You sit up, swatting the girls to hush, suddenly animated.

“No, of course she’s never fucked Hvitserk. She only has eyes for Ivaaaar. And why would she? Hvitserk looks like a misshapen woman. What are you thinking?”

“He does not!”

“Revna stop. He’s coming, he’s coming.” you swat her, tugging your finished braids over your shoulder, standing up with a hand on your swollen stomach. “Girls,” Ivar’s hand flicks out, then back in again, taking its place over your belly. “You won’t mind if I take my wife?”

But they argue like birds in a tree over a chunk of bread. They’ve already forgotten about you with their eyes square on his body-- he can feel them looking at him, debating his brother’s size based on his size, and there they go again. Ivar is grateful that he wasn’t challenged in getting erections, only keeping them. Revna doesn’t care for Hvitserk, not as much as her other half. His beard is patchy and he looks like a bitch! You did not! Look at Ivar!

“Hurry, they argue,” you rush toward the doors of Kattegat, imploring him to walk through his people gathered there. Ivar stops just outside of the grand double doors of his hall, turning his head toward the chariot waiting there.

“They may be annoying,” he mutters, but his hands wander, and find your beautifully braided hair underneath a finely set crown. “But they do beautiful braids. You look perfect.”

“You should let them do yours.”

“You expect me to sit with them?” You could see if now. How they would argue over the stupidest things-- like whose cock was bigger-- or ask how big Ragnar was. Even though, as word had it based on the women in the outskirts of town, he was a sight in his youth.

“I rather you do it. Come, get on first.” Ivar adds. You pluck up your skirts, mounting his chariot with ease.

“Where are we going?”

“On a ride,” Ivar gestures. “Have you told them?” he ponders. You hand off an empty bowl of berries to a thrall there, pulling the long train of your dress up preemptively. You rather not trip after all. You wait until Ivar has mounted before responding to his question-- only when he’d snapped his reins. Cool air whizzes through your hair as he rushes through town.

You glance between the rushing buildings where Hvitserk’s hut was. Thora’s home with Hvitserk billowed smoke. There was no point to telling them private secrets; They would always tell them. Most of Kattegat did. “Tell them what?”

“That I didn’t--” you cut him off.

“I don’t know what you mean, Ivar. Sigtryggr is your son.”

He snaps the reins a little harder, flying through the gate of the home and into the open well ridden roads. “He is.”

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, noting the flat fields that stretch on for miles. On the outskirts of town, the fields become rich forests, richer still with your favourite fruit: apples. You’d not realized that while the apples were not in harvest, their blooms were in full display now. In the trees were their soft, bouncy blooms that contrasted against the dull brown of Kattegat’s unkempt buildings. They had not been painted in some years and so the colours dulled some. There’s something intrinsically beautiful about the simplicity of nature. Ivar comes to a stop, stepping off to tie his horse off.

“I don’t remember there being so many wild apples in this area.”

“There weren’t,” Ivar hobbles over. “I imported them from York.”

The timing had been happenstance. When he came home from York to conquer Lagertha, he did not know that they would bloom in time for your pre-determined pregnancy. They could have not bloomed at all. He thanks Thor, his pendant beating on the exposed flesh of his chest, that it did. The god’s favor was his.

“A celebration for your conquest,” you tease, stopping above a tree that spoke to you in a particular way. “How sweet.”

He envelops you from behind, forgetting his crutch on the ground. It thunks among tall grass as his hands come around you. A small wind wafting through your hair, carrying wind to the fjord. You turn your head toward it-- toward him.

“A celebration of new life with my wife,” he cradles you in a warmth of security that is his arms. His term of celebration-- its better -- infinitely better than yours. You reach back and smooth your fingers over his coarse hair. A new crown, a new marriage, and above all-- a new life. There’s a lot of new this year, a lot of reasons to be happy and pray for a healthy delivery.

“Thank the Vanir.”

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44 @readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @beyond-the-ashes @supernaturalvikingwhore @mblaqgi @wuxiesalt @hopplessdreamer @therealcalicali @rekdreams-fandom @moondustmemories @athroatfullofglass @poisonedjoinery @strangunddurm @shookforyoojung @peachesnpisces @tierneygonzalez @hexqueensupreme @nohemi2500 @queenmissfit @alicedopey @dmv49 @sallylebecks @terrainhead @mybarnesmyhero @youurkryptonite @lif3snotouttogetyou @vikingsmania @looneytunes20033 @bat-fam-blob @oneofthelothbroks @lovelynerdytraveler @chinduda @whatamood13 @honeyofthegods @ilvebeenabad @queenbeeta @wonderlandofsu

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless/reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar ragnarsson/reader #vikings imagine #vikings imagines #vikings/reader #Vikings x Reader

151 notes · View notes

keyofjetwolf · 4 years ago

Note

I hate how the manga sucks mamoru's dick but i can't blame takeuchi for writing this self indulgent fantasy about her perfect husband because her actual husband is apparently a dick.

I know somewhere between fuck and all about Takeuchi’s personal life. I know she HAS a husband, and that husband is also a manga writer/artist, but there’s where my knowledge ends and ignorance begins. So while I’m using this as a springboard, nothing in the following is specific commentary or authority about Naoko Takeuchi’s life and experiences, about which, as just stated, I know nothing.

It’s interesting to me, in that way we can become interested in things that we can’t understand, how, in a sea of fascinating and diverse female characters, some women still have a particular (often repeated) tendency to single out and focus on a man. It makes no sense to me, just none at all. I’m not saying male characters can’t be awesome, or there’s some inherent flaw in ever enjoying a male character above a female character. But you hang around people as they drift through enough fandom circles, you begin to notice patterns. This is something I’ve seen pop up again and again and again. Why they keep going there is a question I’ve wondered, and come back to now and again when my mind is wandering, or happens to be sparked in that particular direction.

You writing this, Anon, did that for me. I’ve mulled over this Ask since you sent it, thinking about it, wondering whether it was worth even bringing up. AND MAYBE IT’S NOT I DUNNO. But apparently it’s a conversation starter I feel like finally tossing into the world.

Specifically, you got me there with this Ask, because I wondered at the correlation you were suggesting. That because Takeuchi’s husband “is a dick”, her fixation on Mamoru made sense. Not that she left her husband, or found someone less dickish, or decided marriage wasn’t for her. But that she became fixated on a fictional character of her own creation, to the detriment of every other character and the story itself (IN THE OPINION OF THIS JET WOLF), because an actual man in her actual life was disappointing.

Whether any of that is true of her husband, I neither know nor, honestly, care. Far more interesting to me is this core idea, that women do perhaps focus on these male characters, because on some level there’s this NEED to believe a man like them is possible, that he could exist.

Historically, men are -- and I don’t think I’m being particularly controversial when I say this -- really fucking shitty to women. You name it, they’ve done it. I’m personally to the point where there’s nothing I could learn about any man who has ever lived that would genuinely surprise me. Of all men throughout my life, my grandfather was the best man I’ve ever known. I love him like I have few people. And if someone told me tomorrow that he’d sexually assaulted their grandmother, I wouldn’t necessarily accept it unquestioned as stone cold truth, but I WOULD be like, “Fuck, I dunno, maybe?”

That’s just the reality of our experiences, and our mother’s experiences, and her mother’s experiences,and so on down through our collective history. Which isn’t to say it’s just the way it is and men are incapable as a sex of better, just that we’re sure as hell not there yet, and none of us are completely free from the times in which we live.

So -- she asks herself hypothetically and also apparently out loud today -- is that maybe why this focus? A focus which, in the personal opinion of this Jet Wolf, is completely illogical? This drive to center our fictional worlds around the men we don’t see anywhere near enough in the real one?

NO FUCKING IDEA. Intended or otherwise, however, thank you for giving me another thing to chew over on this, Anon.

#HOW DO WE EVEN TAG THIS ONE I DUNNO #jet wolf's box of random #random sm fandom #jet wolf versus the manga #anonymous #ask a jet wolf

71 notes · View notes

writefasttalkevenfaster · 5 years ago

Text

Poe Dameron / Home

Summary: Childhood friends who grew apart, Poe and you find your way back to each other. Again and again.

Word Count: 21,540

Warnings: M, swearing (i don’t use the star wars swears I’M SORRY), sexual situations (smut who am i kidding), mentions of amputation and injuries, angst, spoilers for TFA

A/N: the fact I’m writing a sw fic astonishes me. I have evaded this fandom. But that changed when I read @damerondjarin‘s fic “Show me the Stars” on a whim at 4 AM b/c social distancing has messed w/ my sleep. Anyway that’s when I discovered Poe Dameron and Oscar Issac and my life became a mess. Also I blame love @laneygthememequeen for doing nothing but encouraging this relentlessly (and putting up with my shit about this fic for far too long).

"What do you want, Dameron?"

You tried to sound annoyed. You did. An effort that was all too unfortunately wasted. Even as irritation dripped from your voice, injected into every iota of your tone, and placed front and center in your narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Even still, it wavered.

Because it was hard to be annoyed when Poe Dameron was standing before you, lips quirked in a pleading smile. As always.

"Come on sweetheart,” he tilts his head, you ignore the twinge in your heart at the term of endearment, “no need to give the cold shoulder-"

You scoff, choosing to focus on the task at hand of cleaning up the mess your quarters had become between double shifts at the medcenter, "I don't remember allowing you to call me 'sweetheart,'”

"Really, because I do?" He ran a hand through his curls, teeth grazing his lip, looking all too pleased with himself, "when you asked me out."

You scoff, refusing to acknowledge your traitorous cheeks, "That was at least 17 years ago. Pretty sure the expiration date on that offer ended almost two decades ago."

Another life within itself. A small deviation in a steady routine of friendship - one that you had sworn to never repeat.

"Look," the resignation in his voice only made you feel worse, made more so by his furrowed brow and twisting frown, "I need your help."

"How many times have you said that sentence to me?" Too many. You say it so easily, too playful that it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, despite it dancing across your tongue - already far too caught up in the familiar rhythm of the banter, and you knew he felt it too - by the smile that blooms on his lips.

"And how many times did you end up helping me?" He rolls his eyes, lips curled all too knowingly, as he leans against your doorframe again, "I know you put up a front, but after all these years, you're not a mystery to me, sweetheart. I know you'll say yes. You always do."

You stop in your rifling, biting your lip. Back to him, guilt crawled up your gut, until it clawed at your mind. He was right - you did always help. And you hated yourself for it, shoving uniforms into a drawer, before nearly slamming it shut. No matter how strong you were, no matter how many people you saved, no matter how long it had been, you still had a weakness - and he was sitting right in front of you.

"Please?" He adds, and you turn, arms crossed and shoulders slumped.

"What is it?" you hate how your heart squeezes when he beams at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you out the door, "You still didn't tell me what it is-"

He had the gall to squeeze your hand, and throw a smile over his shoulder, "Does it matter?"

No, no it didn't.

Whatever stupid plan or boxed corner Poe Dameron had gotten himself into, he always found a way out - and usually you were there with him — unless he was in his x-wing.

When was it that you realized you were truly stuck with him? Was it when you both bonded over losing your parents? Had the traumatic experience adhered you to one another? Was it when you realized you the Resistance was all you both knew? And when you realized that maybe it was all you would ever know. Or maybe it was when you were fifteen and you were being dragged along, just like this, and you realized you never wanted to let go. And now, you realized you still didn’t.

You thought you were over this.

You thought you were finally over this after seeing women falling head over heels for him time and time again. That's when you had believed it had finally clicked that you needed to stop holding onto feelings that would never come true. But, what happens to feelings that you never admit? They linger and fester - and then they return, at moments like this - moments where his hand fits so perfectly in yours, the heat of his body crawling up your own, and his lips quirk beautifully into a smile that leaves your mind a mess.

Oh, your eyes flicker to the back of his head as you follow him out of the building, what have you gotten yourself into?

You were better than this - smarter than this. You were a medic - highly ranked, widely regarded. You had even begun to mentor other medics and guide through the same training you had sat through. You repeated these things like a mantra, as if it would snap you out of the hold that he’s unknowingly had you in all these years. But it didn't. You thought you were smart. And you were. But not when it came to Poe Dameron.

He pulls you outside towards the landing strip for the x-wings, "Is something wrong with your x-wing?" He doesn't answer — which is answer enough. You break his hold on you, rounding him, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks, "what did you do?"

He rubs the back of his head, "So I may or may not have been flying it when I wasn't supposed to," you sigh, head already throbbing at the prospect, "and I may have damaged it trying to pull off a maneuver I've been working on-"

"Dameron, who are you trying to impress that you already haven't?" He flinches, and you know you hit the nail on the head. Ignoring the twinge of jealousy in your chest, you continue, "Everyone knows that you're the best pilot we got. Why don't you enjoy it and not endanger yourself and the ship?" Finally you find yourself at his x-wing.

"Seems like you care more about the ship than me," he grumbles, muttering something else you don't quite hear, but you slide right past it.

"Can you blame me?” you add, “Plus I would have taken care of your injuries by now," Crossing your arms, walking around the ship, "you're the one damaging the poor thing."

He snorts, "You act as if it has feelings,"

You raise a brow, "And you don't?" You bite back the smile at his silence, instead examining the outside of the ship, taking stock of any visible damage, "Why didn't you have your mechanic do this?"

"Because she would kill me,"

You snort, "And I won't?"

"You're a medic, what happened to do no harm?" You glower at him, and the corner of his mouth quirks, "Plus, come on, we both know you're stuck with me for life."

No, no dwelling on his comment, "And how about BB-8?"

He sighs, "Little buddy is tired after our last mission-"

"He is literally a robot,"

"Droid,” he corrected, “Pretty sure calling them robots is a little insensitive," he tilts his head, as if your tone finally seems register. He adjusts the sleeves of his shirt, unfairly rolled up to expose his forearms, "do you have a problem doing this?"

You keep your expression perfectly neutral, irritation ebbing away to regret.

No, and that was the exact problem.

Poe came and went from your life in waves. Missions would keep him busy, General Organa kept him busy. The First Order saw him more than you did. And it wasn't like you weren't busy yourself. And sometimes, always right when you're ready to put him in your past - the water finally recedes — but then he appears, and another wave breaks the shore. And you are stuck falling back into old patterns.

But you can’t tell him that. So you tell him half-truths, and hope he doesn’t see that it’s borne of half a lie.

You shake your head, popping the paneling open to examine some of the wiring, "Of course not, but I'm far from an expert. I only started learning from Wren how to repair these things, and I still have a long way-"

He steps up beside you to watch, his voice murmuring beside you, A long way to go for you means a hell of a lot better than most experts."

"I just want you safe, Dameron," you admit, suppressing a shiver at his voice in your ear, "and I want you to run tests with Wren after I'm done."

"I will, but I trust you," he adds, voice soft, "I trust you with my life."

You look up from the circuits instinctively, finding yourself much closer to his face than you thought you were. Noses practically brushing, you only see him, as always. You see the stray curls falling in his face as he stares at you, and you hope he couldn't hear the hitch of your breath. And did you imagine his eyes flickering from your gaze to your lips; and his lips, the sly grin falling from his features into something - something unreadable.

"You would?"

He chuckles and you swear you can feel the rumble of his chest, "I already have. And I always will."

"Always is a long promise to keep," you breathe back, and he smiles.

"Well for you, sweetheart, I have no doubt I can keep it," his fingers brush your cheek, and you hold your breath, eyes fluttering shut until -

BEEP.

BB-8 sends you two jumping apart.

Your heart in your throat and blood roaring in your ears - you don't have time to process what just happened. You shove it down, down to the place where all your feelings about Poe went. Untouched, but unforgotten.

Instead, you whip your head back to the circuits, trying to ignore both the burn of your cheeks and the burning linger of Poe’s gaze, "Hey little guy, long time no see," he beeps at you, "yeah I'm just looking over the circuits."

You glance at Poe, and see his mouth open and shut, before seemingly plastering on an easy smile, "Isn't she the best?" He kneels to talk to BB-8.

You preen at the sound of his compliment, despite your best efforts, Poe continues to explain to BB, "she's learning from Wren."

He chirps again, and Poe's brow does furrow this time, "He's right, why are you learning about mechanics? Don't you usually have a shift at the hospital now?"

And here is the other reason you didn't want to see him.

---------

"Stop," you follow after Poe as he walks away from the ship, "Poe, just talk to me."

He pauses a moment, but then strides forward with a second wind, until you catch him by the arm, "I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd react this way-"

He scoffs, he whips his arm away, as if your touch burned, as if it disgusted him - and you didn’t know which was worse, "How would you know my reaction? You don't even trust me enough to me that you are leaving the medcenter to become a mechanic?"

"I haven't left yet," you say lamely, and he shakes his head, walking off in a huff.

But suddenly, he whirls on you, fists clenched, "And you made this decision when?"

You pause, biting your lip, "A month ago,"

"A month?" He repeats, eyes hard, before turning on his heel again.

"Poe, I wanted to tell you,"

He scoffs, laced with sarcasm, "Obviously," he faces you again, lips twisted in frown, "You know I know we haven't seen each other lately, but I didn't think we stopped being friends. I pushed you to do this because I missed you," his words are so achingly true, red hot coal being dragged across an open wound, “but I see that you didn’t.”

Your chest aches, and you reach for him, so desperate for the touch you wanted nothing to do with earlier, tears stabbing at the corners of your eyes, "We didn't stop being friends," he doesn't listen, only turning to leave, "Poe, we didn't. I'm sorry."

"Then why?" His gaze towards the sky, arms crossed. And no words come to mind - and your wordless reply makes him begin to walk away again. Only at the sight of his retreating back do you find them, shaking free from the place you had shoved down.

"I didn't want to tell you I was breaking our promise!”

He stops in his tracks, "What are you talking about?"

It’s your turn to scoff, "You remember that I told you I liked you once, but you don't remember the promise we made to each other to follow our dreams?"

A hint of red in his cheeks, he doubles down on his scowl, "I remember the promise, but I meant what does that have to do with this?"

"Poe, you promised to be a pilot, and I promised to be a medic - that we were going to commit ourselves to the same cause our parents did. We were going to save people, together," his expression softens, "We did, and I did. And I was damn good at it — I am damn good at it," you see the corner of his mouth tug, "but I'm not good enough."

His brow furrows, "Wh-"

"I can't save everyone, and I know I can't. But I’ve watched the blood drain their complexion one too many times. I’ve seen their last breath exhale from their throat, their chest rise and fall for the last time,” you take a steadying breath, “I've seen people I couldn't do anything for, and I've seen people I could do something for, but I wasn't fast enough," you swallow lump in your throat, "it eats away at you. It was consuming me.”

His shoulders sag, "Sweetheart-"

"So, when I decided to go back on that...it was hard," you rubbed at your arms, a cool breeze sending a shiver up your body, "and it was even harder to tell you I was leaving, so I didn't."

"It's okay if your dreams change. It's okay if this isn't what you want to do," he says, finding his way back to your side, but he sees your hesitation - the same you desperately didn't want to admit, “this is what you want, right?”

And there is the other reason you didn’t want to tell him - he always could see right through you, charting a course through your expression to your feelings, even when you didn’t want to admit them. To the fear you had kept - the one you kept even from yourself.

“It’s what I need to do,” you admit, and to your surprise, he doesn’t push it any further, instead he only pouts.

"I just hate that you didn't tell me,” he sighs, shoulders sagging.

You sigh, muttering all too loudly, “There’s a lot I don’t tell you,” before you can catch yourself, and you swear under your breath.

His head snaps up, “What do you mean by that?”

You hesitate, “Nothing,”

He lifts a finger, “You’re hiding something. Badly. You’ve never been a good liar,” he slowly moves closer to you as you back away in tandem, “I’ve known you my whole life, I know when you’re hiding something, and if you don’t tell me what it is,” he steps closer, and closer, until your back is to an x-wing, “I’ll just figure it out.”

You stare up into his face - his eyes, his lips, everything far too close. You brush past him, shaking your head, flexing your fingers, "I'm sorry, I—” you cut yourself off, "I just need to go.”

He catches you by the hand, pulling you back to him, bumping against his chest, "No," and you feel his answer rumble against you.

Your cheeks flare, "What do you mean no?"

"I mean, tell me what you mean," he says, eyes narrowed, "no more lying, no more hiding. Tell me."

"You- I-" No excuses come to mind, instead all that is left burning on your tongue is the truth - and you can’t tell him the truth. You can’t. But his eyes bore into you, until you cover your face with your hands, "I just, just let me go, Dameron,"

He eases your hands from your face, "Do you still have a crush on me, sweetheart?"

Your expression gives away your answer and you know it. And even if it didn't, your hesitation surely did. Hesitation was the mother of truth. And you sit in the silence of it all - much like the embarrassment and fear on your throat, your heart fallen to the center of D’qar by now. "I-"

"Because I have one on you," he says softly, and you blink. A moment passes, and another. And still you don’t believe what you’ve heard. You only stare, as if waiting to wake from this dream. To awake in your bed alone, and utterly disappointed and embarrassed, like you were a moment ago. But it never comes.

And the only coherent reply that finds its way out of your mouth is a word, "When?"

It was his turn to hesitate, "When we were 15, maybe even before then. I just couldn't admit it to you. I don't think I could admit to myself," he shakes his head, before rubbing his forehead,

“Why? Why not when-”

“When you told me how you felt - it scared me,” Poe takes your hand carefully, fingers carefully intertwined as if you would disappear under his touch, “I thought I admitted I loved you back - I would lose you, like my parents,” he shakes his head, “It was stupid-”

“It’s not stupid,” you whisper, and he offers a weak smile.

"I didn't want to lose you,” he says, adding, “I still don’t.”

"Poe," his thumb brushes your cheek, "you never could have lost me."

He smiles, "I know, you are stuck with me after all,"

"Did you ever plan to tell me?" You asked, and his cheeks flush.

He clears his throat, "you know how we talked about the someone I was trying to impress?"

"Yeah?" He stares, "and?"

He groans, crossing his arms, "Do I need to spell out for you?" Oh. Oh.

"You think damaging your ship is going to impress me?" You grin when his lips form a pout, before it slips into a devious smirk, as he draws far too close to you for you to be able to think.

"Got me this far right?" And a shiver goes down your spine, his breath hot against your lips, he brushes your hair behind your ear, "okay, one last confession, the promise we made about dreams?"

"Yeah, you mean the one I brought up about two minutes ago?" He bites his lip, sighing, throwing back his head, only to drag a hand down his face.

“You are not making this any easier,” he mutters, "Okay, well we never said what our dreams were, you assumed I was talking about being a pilot.”

You tilt your head, “But you’re a pilot,”

He laughs, shaking his head, “Yeah I am, but what I'm trying to say is," he tilts your chin up, "you were my dream," your breath catches in your throat, only the feeling of his own breath against your lips reminding you to do the same, "and I don't think that's ever going to change."

You didn't realize you were crying until his fingers brush a tear away, "You could have just said you don't feel the same," he teases, but apprehension still creeps in his voice, and his tone falters, "you don't have to respond-"

You pull him to you, arms wrapped around his shoulders, burying yourself in his chest, "You were a dream I didn't know I could have," and lean back to look up at him, eyes shining, "but now that I know I don’t think I’ll ever let you go."

"You better not," his calloused fingers trace the length of your cheek, rounding your ear down to the nape of your neck, until his fingers settle on your chin. Tilting you up to meet his gaze, and his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. You shiver as he leans down, whispering, "Can I kiss you?"

You answer by pressing your lips to his - it was chaste, but you feel him smile against you, as you lean away. But he chases your lips, this time intent on making good on your promise of never letting go.

All you feel is him. He cups your face in his hands, and you know he has you in the palm of his hands - and for once you're not scared. Not by his large hands slipping down the length of your body, nor the hot, open mouthed kisses he left on your neck, and not by the guttural growl in his throat when you use his shirt to tug him closer to you.

"I've wanted this for so long," he sighs, and you take advantage to press a kiss to his neck. He was practically panting now, lips and tongue skimming his neck, before closing around his pulse point, pulling a ragged grown from his mouth, "you don't know what you do to me, sweetheart."

You kiss the bruise you leave, "Tell me,"

"I can't," defiance evident in his tone, as you frown against his neck, until he leans back, chest heaving, "because I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Or with you."

The rasp of his voice makes you shiver, "I think I like the sound of that,"

Eyes dark, he raises a brow, "Not unless you'd prefer to do this with an audience,"

You kiss him, his teeth grazing your lips, "I don't wanna to share you."

"Good," he grins, "because neither do I."

~~~

“Are you going to sleep standing up, or are you going to join me?” Poe sat on the edge of his bed, freshly out of the refresher. Even after wiping his hair with a towel, you could see his curls were damp, water dripping down, slipping down beneath his sleep shirt.

You fidget, “I’m going to join you, I’m just...taking my time.”

You can tell he’s biting back a grin, instead, getting up from the bed, “You know nothing is going to happen tonight, right?” You cannot meet his eyes, cheeks inevitably burning at the thought, “nothing you don’t want to happen.”

“I know,” you mumble.

“Can I remind you that we’ve slept in the same bed before?” he reaches for your hands, waiting for you to take them, before enveloping them.

“Can I remind you that it was my bed and we were kids?” you smile at him, “you never did tell me why you couldn’t sleep that night.”

“Nightmare,” he sighs, dragging a hand through his wet curls, water flicking onto the bed, “It happened a lot back then.”

You squeeze his hands, “And now?”

He offers you a smile, “Well I have you to chase away nightmares, don’t I?” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “even if you want to go back to your own room.”

You look up at him, and your breath is knocked out of your lungs at just how painfully beautiful he is, inside and out. How gentle he is, despite his upbringing. How sweet he is, despite all of the carnage he has lived through. How willing he is to open his heart up to you, despite it being broken far too many times.

“No, let’s go to bed,” you tug him toward the bed, and the two of you crawl in beside each other, and it seems like the exhaustion hits you at once - it had been a long day far before Poe came to see you. And now - as he pulls you to rest against his chest, it felt like a different lifetime. Your eyes are heavy, shutting right away, the safety of his warmth sending you into the throes of sleep deeper than any sandman could, but still you fight it for a moment - peering up at him, only to find him staring.

“Staring isn’t sleeping,” you murmur, and his lips curl in a lazy smile, “is something wrong?”

“No,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “something finally feels right.”

~~~

Your eyes flutter open, and you’re alone - blinking. And you sigh, thumping your head against the pillow - a dream, it was just a dream. You didn’t know what hurt more after you woke up - the memory of the dream itself or the fact it wasn’t real.

You roll over and spot a note on the night table - and then your eyes flit to Poe’s still damp towel. You sit up, reaching for the note.

Sweetheart,

Was called away for a mission briefing. You can shower here or you can go back to your room. I’ll come find you after.

I know how much you hate to share me, but I’ll be back soon.

Poe

You couldn’t suppress the stupid smile on your lips. Face hot - you held the note to your chest, clutching it as if you were afraid it may disappear. It was real, it wasn’t a dream. You shook your head, biting your lip in an attempt to stop smiling.

You didn’t.

You took him up on his offer to shower at his place. Running your fingers through your hair, you recounted last night in your head. His hands. His lips. Poe. You covered your face, cheeks burning. Even his name just made you a mess - even more than usual. But his words were the things that rang in your ears - repeating on a loop like an earworm you never wanted to get rid of.

Shutting the water off, you started to pull your clothes on, but you realized your significant lack of a towel and your dripping wet hair. You peeked out of the bathroom, finding the bed just as you had left it, and you stepped out, grabbing the towel Poe had used last night.

“I don’t think you expected me back so soon,” you jump, whirling to see Poe on the other side of the room, just out of view. Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze, “Uh, find what you were looking for?”

You nod, flying back into the refresher, back pressed against the door. You pressed the towel to your heated face, shit. You shook off the slight mortification, slowly finishing getting dressed.

You stepped out, finding him sitting on the bed, flipping through a book, “I’m dressed,” you announced lamely.

He grinned at you, “I can see - I don’t know which I like better - dressed or undressed,”

A flush inches up your neck, “Dameron, you’re already on thin ice,”

“I wasn’t the one who walked out of your refresher in my underwear,” you gaped at him, who looked all too pleased at your reaction, before he smiles, “you know you’re beautiful, right?” You averted your gaze, and he grabbed your hand, tugging you gently onto the bed beside him. You bit your lip, “Because you are.”

“Really?” his brow furrows, and he rolls his eyes dramatically, before tilting his head.

“Want me to prove it?” he leans closer to you, lips quirking when he sees your breath hitch, and his hand slides closer to you, “Because I think I didn’t do a good enough job last night. And you know me,” he leans in and presses a kiss to your neck, “ever the perfectionist.”

“Poe,” he silences you with a sweet kiss on your lips, then your cheeks, then your forehead, and soon his lips are everywhere. His chest bumped against yours, firm arm wrapping around your waist only to pull you impossibly closer. Your teeth graze his bottom lip and you feel him groan, the rumble reverberating up and down your spine.

“Every inch of you,” his hands traveled down your sides, mapping you with the detail of a cartographer, wanting to know every peak and valley, “is beautiful. It was when we were ten and I found you covered in muck from when Nola dared you. When we were fifteen and you decided to confess to me, I never realized anyone could look at me like that, You were beautiful then, just like you are now,” He emphasizes each word with a kiss, “don’t forget that."

You press your forehead to his, “Will you remind me if I forget?”

He smiles, “Always.”

~~~

Your day goes by slowly - And you know exactly why.

“Tonight,” Poe says, as he walks you to your pod so you can change before your shift at the infirmary, “let’s go on a date.”

“You want to take me on a date, Dameron?” he rolls his eyes.

“Is that your attempt at teasing? Because you and me both know you can do better than that.”

“Fine, let’s go,” you say, “after my shift.”

He scratches his cheek, “No questions?”

“No questions, except one,” you add, arriving right outside the medcenter, you whisper in his ear, “What are the chances that I’ll get to see you without your clothes tonight?”

Poe blinks, opening and closing his mouth. You grin as you begin to step away, but he catches you by your hand, voice low, “Very likely,” he says, stealing your breath away with a kiss, “and if I didn’t have any self-control, it would be against this wall.” You stare at him, a thick heat settling over the two of you, until he walks away, letting go of your hand with reluctance and a smile, “But luckily I do.”

You should have known better than to tease him, because now it left you in this predicament: watching the minutes crawl by. Only two hours left.

You made your rounds, tending to the new injured that came in. You sighed at the state of the injuries, most of them from x-wing crashes. Mangled and broken limbs, twisted black and blue or each time split in ways you hadn’t seen before; others were less lucky - damaged organs, first degree burns, and even a woman who lost her leg.

Your team had managed to stabilize her, but she still hadn’t woken up from the sedatives you had given her. Rhea. An x-wing pilot. You didn’t know her personally, but she had crossed paths with you in the hospital before. Always smiling, always kind, always without a harsh word. And now you had to tell her she lost her leg.

Fucking First Order.

They had been attacking more aggressively over the last few weeks - the higher ups were trying to keep it quiet, but you knew by the amount of troops they were having to send out and how many of them they brought back broken, in more than one way.

You shook yourself from your thoughts, rounding the corner to check on the patient submerged in a bacta tank. When they had first brought this patient in, most of his skin was bruised, battered, and broken, but now, most of his wounds had healed. You flipped through the chart - another x-wing crash caused by enemy cannons. You looked up at the tank, and you saw Poe floating.

You blinked and it was your patient again.

“WE NEED A MEDIC!” A crash rings out across the floor, and you nearly drop your clipboard running to the commotion, and you knew exactly which patient it was -

“Rhea,” Her hands grasped at her blanket, trying to reach for her leg, the one that was no longer there. The lamp at her bedside had been knocked down. You turned to the terrified trainee, “What’s going on?”

“She just woke up, drowsy. She said her leg was itching, I was about to call someone when she started to yell it was hurting, and then she must have knocked down the lamp,” you told them to call another medic, and you turned to Rhea.

“Rhea,” you said softly, “are you okay?”

She looked up, eyes watery, “Where am I?”

“You’re in the infirmary,” you remind her of who you are, “Do you remember me?” she nodded slowly, “Let me check your vitals, okay?”

She let you touch her as you ran through the basic check, finally stepping back from her, setting down your clipboard, as you waved to the other medic to hang back, “You were in an accident, Rhea, in your x-wing, do you remember?”

Her brow furrowed, she held her head, “Everything is fuzzy, my head is killing me,” eyes squeezing shut, “I was pinned down, trying to destroy some TIE fighters on our tail, I got three, and I-” her voice broke, “I don’t remember anything after that.”

“It’s okay, it’s-”

“Why is my leg hurting? What happened to me?” you swallowed the lump in your throat, steadying your voice.

“I need you to lie down first, okay?” She did as you said, “Like I said there was an accident and-” she suddenly started to convulse, her eyes rolled back.

“Prep a scan and an OR,” you looked up at the other medic, “GO! Now.”

Wheeling her into the OR, you don’t think of Poe or the time, only that you weren’t going to lose this patient - you weren’t going to lose Rhea.

~~~

It takes hours.

But you find the cause. A clot in her brain that nearly killed her. Was it luck that she woke up before it killed her? Was it luck that you were talking to her when it happened? A second later and - you pry your gloves off, washing your hands as you've done a million times after surgery. But a part of you relished in it - you had saved her, she was going to be okay, or at least, she was alive. And that had to be enough, didn’t it?

Otherwise, you thought, how would any of us go on living through this?

Right now, all that mattered to you was getting home, getting in the refresher, and seeing Poe-

And then it occurs to you.

Shit. What time is it?

You are laughably late. So you do the only thing you can do - you run. Stuffing a change of clothes into your bag, you sprint out the door. A voice stops you in your tracks right past the entrance.

"I was wondering if I would have to admit myself as a patient to get your attention,” Poe stood, leaning against the wall, smiling, “maybe sleep out here.”

"Maybe I should have taken a little longer then," you can't help but smile back, as you walk toward him, panic a distant memory as he walks toward you, "Dameron sleeping on the ground? The scandal."

"Yes, idiot pilot in love with a chronically late medic," he presses a kiss to your forehead before you can reply, mind utterly shell-shocked at his words.

"You love me?" You blink, and there's a terrible moment where he pauses and your heart sinks, "I mean, I understand if you just said it in the moment, I-"

You look up to see him biting back a smile. You glare at him, "Poe,"

He laughs, "Sorry I wanted to see how long you would go,"

"On second thought, maybe I'm too tired for this date," but it's too late, his arms are curled around your waist, your back now pressed to the medcenter’s wall, trapping you in his embrace, lips murmuring in your ear.

"Of course, I love you, sweetheart," he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, "I don't remember a time when I didn’t."

You swallow your tears, instead turning to kiss him, and forgetting everything else, "What a coincidence," you manage, foreheads brushing, "neither can I."

~~~

Your stomach had surely twisted itself into knots by the time you arrived at Poe’s door. Something you would have to untangle before he got the food ready. But right now, it feels like you can barely sort through your thoughts. A blankness had overtaken your mind, but even still you could feel the cortisone churn through your body - a dull ache settling over you.

You don't know if it's from the day you had or the nervous energy that buzzes through you. With rationing, there wasn't much choice or variety, but all the same you were just grateful to eat Poe raises a brow and smiles at the loud rumble of your stomach, before placing a plate down in front of you and another for him. It had been a good twelve hours since you last ate.

You devour the food, only to look up and find Poe's food untouched, his eyes on you instead of his plate. His eyes were distant, placid, but still turbulent, as if he was darting through a storm in an x-wing: focused but afraid.

"Aren't you hungry?" He blinks, as if he's been broken from a trance and looks down at his full plate, "Dameron, what's going on?"

He picks at his food half-heartedly, "I am not supposed to tell you this, but," he sighs, shaking his head, "the briefing I was called away for - I’m leaving tomorrow.”

He swallows, forcing a small smile on his lips, “The mission they are sending me on, it's potentially-" he cuts himself off, clearing his throat, "it is dangerous. We are making big moves against the First Order, we discovered something that could finally give us a leg up-"

His explanation is drowned out by a ringing in your ears, as you watch his lips move, but you hear none of it. The same numbness overtakes your senses now - a void that narrows your focus to a pinprick.

And now all you can see is Poe. But not the one in front of you. Instead, his eyes are shut. His chest no longer rises nor fall. He can't smile. He can't laugh. Not when he's on an operating table. Not when he can't breathe anymore. Not when you couldn't save him. Scarlet coats your fingers, utensils now surgical tools. You weren't good enough. You were too late. You were too late.

You drop your fork against the plate, harshly clattering onto the table. He breaks off mid sentence, as you get up from the table, “I’m sorry, I-” you shake your head, holding up your hands, “I can’t do this.”

He frowns, setting down his fork, “I can tell you about the mission, sweetheart, no one will be put in danger-”

“No,” you cross your arms, looking at the floor, “that’s not what I mean.”

The words nearly die in your throat, and what’s left is a long silence - one that’s no worse than the storm that follows it, “Why?”

And no worse when you have to explain why you’re causing it, “If you get hurt," your voice wavers at the thought, "if something happens to you, this will just make it worse. If we do this, I don’t know how I would live without you."

"Sweetheart-"

"Don't call me that," the hurt on his face seized at your heartstrings, pulling until your heart was in shreds. Something in him had broken. And you had done the breaking.

You walk towards the door, “Please, don’t run away from this, from me,” he cuts you off, your small window of escape snapped shut, “What are you so scared of?”

“I’m not scared,” you say through gritted teeth, frustration mixed with melancholy, “I’m being realistic, I can’t- We can’t.”

“You’re running away, what do you call that? That isn’t realistic,” he snaps, jaw set, “That’s fear, you know what’s realistic? War," he says, tone as deadly as it's meaning, "This is a war, people are going to die. Like our parents did. I may die, but so can you. It can't dictate your life."

Anger flares in your chest, "I'm not letting it-"

"What do you call leaving your job? What do you call this?" He gestures between the two of you, running a hand through his hair, "why? Why are you letting it control you?"

"Because I can't lose another person, I can't sit back and watch you die. I can't watch you come back in pieces, and not be able to put you back together again," your hands shake, but you fold your arms, hoping it would be enough to hold you together, "and if that means it controls me, then it does."

His silence was suffocating, "Do you want me to stop being a pilot?' he says quietly, "is that what it will take?"

Hot tears well in your eyes, stinging, but not as much his words did, "I can't take away your dream," He smiles ruefully.

"But you already are."

You lean over, to press a kiss to his cheek - the last remnant you'll allow yourself of this dream - but he turns and your lips meet. You don't try to pull away. He kisses you, tenderly. Intent on keeping you here, stumbling away from the door. His fingers fist in your hair, tongue in your mouth. Your hand slips over his chest, fisting in his shirt, and you remember you are supposed to be leaving.

But his lips move to your neck, and you forget how to breath, much less move.

You give into it. Because it's easier. It's easier to focus on the feeling of him; of his hands gripping your hips, pulling you onto the couch and then onto his lap; of the stifled moan against your lips when you bite his lip; and it makes it easier to say yes when he asks:

"Please just stay the night," he asks, hopelessly breathless, but still his lips are all over you, tracing the length of your collarbone, "and then when I come back, we can act as if this never happened."

"Poe-"

He leans away, "I will never force you to stay, and if you need to go, go," he licks his lips, looking at you with so much love - and you wonder how blind you must have been to have never seen before, to have wasted so much time, "but if you want this too-"

You don't let him finish, instead you grip his shoulders, pulling him into another kiss.

And that's all the answer either of you need.

Then, you’re under him. Back pressed against the armrest of the couch, as you fall backwards against the plush cushions, but he is there to catch you. You found the same hands that held you when you lost your parents cupping your face to press breathless kisses to your lips; the same hands, the ones pulled you to so many places you never thought you would reach, playing with the ends of your shirt asking for permission before pulling it off; and the same hands, the calloused and gentle fingers that had always held your heart, now grasped at your thighs, lifting you up from the couch and carrying you to the bed.

He placed you softly on the bed, and he crawled on top of you, fingers tracing your cheek, smiling, "Poe-"

He shakes his head, "I don't know how anyone can be this beautiful," he chuckles, thumb dragging over your lips, and your lips caught it, "sweetheart." He shudders under your touch, a rumble in his chest, "what are you doing to me?"

You tug at his shirt now, over his head and onto the floor with ease. Your hands explored the exposed skin far more than you explored any planet or galaxy - with reverence. You kissed every scar you could spot, gasping as his hands squeezed your breasts. Defenses down, he attacked, catching your eyes as his fingers ghosted your bra. He unhooked it, and you felt yourself waver under his gaze.

"Fuck," he murmured, and you arched into his touch as his lips pressed a constallation of kisses along your chest, his warm breath fanning across your skin, but denying his touch to the places that ached for it the most.

“Poe,” you sighed, and he smiled up at you, “don’t tease me.”

“How can I not?” his deep chuckle rumbles against your body and sends a shiver up your spine, as his eyes grew sad, “when it might be my last time?”

You waver, “I-” any reply is cut off as his mouth descends on one of your peaks, and he forces a moan from your lips, “fuck,” his other hand makes itself known, pinching and kneading, alighting each one under his diligent touch, and you feel him smirk against your skin.

Your fingers find his hair, weaving through his curls, pulling when he chooses that moment he chose to squeeze particularly hard. His low groan only adds to the sensation, and you can’t stand it anymore.

You pull him to your lips, tongue sliding into his mouth, before flipping him so that he’s under you. You rise, ridding yourself of your pants, any shyness lost obliterated under his steady gaze.

His hands reach for his own pants, but you stop him, "Let me," he blinks, before leaning back on his elbows and watching you through lidded eyes. You undo his belt, and then the button, before sliding them off. You find Poe’s lips again, easily and effortlessly - the exact opposite of your entire relationship.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

Your legs on either side of his hips, you straddled him, and he hissed.

“Already this wet for me?” he gasped as you ground against him, smirking as his hands fist in the sheets that certainly did not go unnoticed, “now that’s just cruel.”

“You’re not the only one who can tease, Dameron,” your hands trail delicately down his body, your lips choosing to busy themselves with memorizing every scar, every blemish - everything beautiful about this man who was only made more perfect by his imperfections.

He squirms under your touch, desperate, he growls your name, “please, give me somet-” he moans, when your fingers brush against his cock through his boxers, before dipping your fingers underneath the elastic. But too soon, your hands withdraw, running the length of his thighs, until -

You’re underneath him again, his lips worshipping again with renewed passion. Panting and cheeks red, he stares down at you reverently, “I can’t let this night end early, sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to your lips, your neck, your breasts, kissing his way down your body, perched before your lower lips, “not before I taste you.”

You moan at his words, finding him searching for your okay before proceeding, “Poe, please,”

Sliding your underwear off, he groans at the sight of you, "Fuck," and your thighs attempt to squeeze shut, "let me look at you,' he breathes gently, pressing a kiss to your thigh. Cheeks hot, you ease your legs apart, and his lips draw closer and closer to your center, until he kisses it, his stubble rubbing against your thighs. He inhales, pinning your thighs in place as they tense under his attention.

You shiver, pleasure traveling up and down your body in larger and larger waves. He starts slow. A small kiss, allowing himself a taste. And then his tongue brushes you, tracing over your soaked core. His hands hold your thighs apart, as his tongue licks a stripe up. You feel him grin against you at your whimper, rewarding you with another kiss. Your mouth opens to protest, when he finally parts your folds, tongue slipping in. Your fingers finding purchase in his curls. You moan his name, loudly, as he worships you. He groans in tandem against you, when your fingers pull at his hair.

"Poe," he moves faster, your walls contracting around his tongue, working in circles, "I think i'm-"

He places his lips on your clit and sucks harshly, and that's the breaking point. You come undone with his name on your lips. He teases you through your orgasm, holding you as you come down from the high, his tongue lapping at your essence, making your muscles twitch in response. You finally lift your head to see him, and you bite back a groan, his face coated in your release.

“I think I'm addicted," he murmurs, his tongue darting out to clean his face of your release. Your head rests against the pillow, as he winds his way up your body, fingers tilting your face so he could look at you come down. Your eyes flutter open and you find him smiling at you, and you move to cover your face, but he’s faster, gently prying your hands away, “Did you forget again?” He asks, echoing his words from before.

“Maybe,” you mumble, and he cups your face.

“Should I remind you?” he presses lazy kisses to your face, his curls tickling your nose, “What do you want, baby?” You feel his fingers skim against your clit, and you arch into his touch, “tell me.”

“I want you,” you say, and he laughs.

“You already have me,” he says, as you reach over, dipping your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down for him to kick off, “but you can’t get enough me, can you?”

Any sarcasm dies in your throat when you see his earnest smile, “Is it that obvious?”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, slower, “Only because it’s me, and only because I feel the same way,” he whispers against your lips, and you pull him down to you again, as he positions himself over you, swallowing your moan when you feel him brush against you. You arch your hips, one arm around his middle, the other fisted in his curls - anything to feel closer to him.

But still, he breaks away, pressing his forehead to yours, "Are you sure?" And you smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. He is the same boy you fell in love with, isn't he? The same one who could always make you laugh; the same one who could convince you to take a risk, the same one who held your hand when you lost your parents in a raid, the same one who allowed you to be brave, and the one you were too scared to lose.

"Poe, I've never been more sure of anything," and your hands wrap around his neck to pull him down to kiss you, and he pushes into you.

"Fuck, you're wet for me," he groans against your lips, as his hand caresses your cheek, "and tight." He waits for you to adjust, pressing kisses everywhere to distract you from the discomfort.

"Poe," you whisper, and he nods, beginning to thrust into you. You can't get enough of him, even now, your hands wander before settling on shoulders, "Fuck, harder, please."

He does as you say, thrusting harder, as he buries his head in the nape of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin, "You don't know how long I've wanted this - wanted you," he says against you, and you moan, "to know what it's like to kiss you, to feel you, but now," he swears as you thrust back against him, sinking deeper into you, "I don't know how I'm going to live with knowing."

“Neither do I,” you kiss him again, forcing him to swallow your words, and the regret you had along with it.

He leans back to look at you, eyes fluttering shut, his thrusts grow more urgent, the slick noise of him moving in and out growing louder and louder. And you feel yourself growing closer and closer, towards that peak, "I love you," you whisper, pressing another kiss to his lips, before you orgasm, your walls tightening around him.

He follows right after a few thrusts, carrying you over that peak, before spilling inside you with a groan of your name. You feel his release leak out of you, and he rests against you, fingers ghosting up and down your hips, panting in your ear. Your lips meet lazily again, and you rest your forehead against his again, enjoying how his breath feels against your skin.

He stays inside you for a moment, before finally beginning to move away, but he pauses, only staring.

“Poe?”

He shakes his head, pressing a last kiss to your lips. "I love you too,” his fingers fall from your face, “and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You look at him wordless, and he spares you the agony of replying, instead shifting to lie down beside you. You follow suit, his arm curled around you, as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling. And you affix this memory in your mind, and allow yourself the fantasy of the relationship for a moment - for beautiful mornings spent waking up beside each other, lazy afternoons spent laughing with the feeling of his lips against yours, and of quiet evenings, spent in each other’s arms.

You only reply when you know he’s asleep, comforted by his even breaths and quiet snores, “I know I’ll never stop.”

You fall asleep beside him, legs tangled in the blanket. You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and you tell yourself it's okay to love him, because he's safe. He's okay. But you know, as you lift your head to take one more look at him, tomorrow he won't be. Tomorrow, you can't love him. Not like this.

~~~

He doesn't wake you before he goes.

You wake up in his bed, and you don't remember the last time you’ve felt this alone. This time there was no note, you think with a lump in your throat. There was no promise of a date. Instead, there was only a sinking feeling in your stomach, and your eyes burning with tears.

He would be back, you told yourself, wiping the tears from your cheeks, He would be back and everything would be okay again.

~~~

“Alright!” Poe jerks away from the guard’s grip, “alright!”

The guard doesn’t relent, still adjusting their hold on him, as Poe actually gets a look around. His mouth ajar, he saw flying ships, pods (like the one he came out of), and nothing but Stormtroopers everywhere, swarming like bees in their hives. It would have been impressive if it wasn’t so horrifying.

How did he end up here? Taken captive on Jakku, and BB-8 and some of the most valuable information in the galaxy left wandering.

Fuck.

The guard yanks on him again after a moment, and he is being ushered off somewhere - likely to get tortured, likely to be killed, but never - never, would he give anything up to them. He stares straight ahead, twisting in the cuffs they had on him. The same hands that had held yours not that long ago. His gut twists at the thought of you.

Sorry sweetheart, he thinks, I may not make it back to you after all.

He grits his teeth, But I sure may die trying to.

~~~

They torture him, of course.

Why wouldn’t they?

The first few beatings were something - warm blood dripping down the sides of his head, his shirt and stomach slick making the fabric cling to his wounds - but at some point, they just stopped being creative. It was the same thing over and over again, and at some point he stopped even dignifying them with so much as a grunt of acknowledgement. The best they could do was keep him awake until their fearless leader came - or so he heard one of the bucketheads whisper to the other when they thought he was knocked out.

But still, he thinks when the room is not empty of siths and he is left only with his thoughts, what that man had done to him earlier, his body locking up in place, an unfathomable power overcoming his own will, unable to do anything, but just watch a village get slaughtered. But it wasn’t unknown, was it?

And the whole room began to spin in that moment. He blinked, vision unbearably blurry, straining his eyes to see straight, but relented, shutting his eyes, resting his eyes for a moment. A small voice in the back of his thought, and what does that mean about what else he can do to you?

He isn’t sure how long he’s asleep, but it’s enough time to dream of you.

He hadn’t gone on on his mission. You hadn’t decided to break things off. Instead, you both decided to spend the day together. He had woken up next to you, instead of pressing a kiss to your forehead before he left.

He could feel your fingers drawing mindless patterns against his thigh when he woke from a dreamless sleep and saw you beside him, “Good morning,” you whisper, adorably and painfully shy, even after all he had done to you last night, and after all you had done to him.

“It is, isn’t it?” he murmurs, unable to resist pulling you closer so he could rest his head right beneath your chin, “every other morning seems to pale in comparison.”

“I guess we’ll just have to make this a habit,” you hum, when he burns a path of kisses up your chest and across your shoulder, his need for you unyielding, “Poe, please.”

He chooses that moment to suck softly at your pulse point, “Hmm?” he mumbles against the sensitive skin, soothing it with his tongue, “You need something, sweetheart?”

You smile up at him, “I only need you.” You lean up to kiss him, and then suddenly it’s gone.

You’re gone.

Instead, he finds himself waking up to the sound of a voice he was dreading to hear. It takes him a moment to rouse himself, his head swimming as he forces himself to be alert.

“...the best pilot in the resistance on board,” he has to repress a snort, they tried torture and now were they going to try flattery? He forces himself to meet the Commander’s gaze, refusing to let his eyes water or his gaze waver even a moment. He would be damned if he chose to falter now - not to him, not any of the First Order. Even if it meant his life, “Comfortable?”

No shifting, no hesitance, no weakness, but an answer was required, “Not really,”

“I’m impressed,” he admits, whilst sounding not so impressed, stepping toward Poe, “No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.” He looms over him, as if that would intimidate him at this point.

He peers up at him, “You might want to rethink your technique,” and he wonders if he kept that mask on only to hide how his face twisted.

He lifts his hand, a dull throb starts in Poe’s head. It’s a low whine at first, kind of like when his ears popped after a spiral or all too sudden dip in his x-wing, but no, this was different. It was the same as before. He shifts in his restraints, feeling it crawl into every muscle, every bone, every crevice of his body, He tries to bite back the groan that claws its way up his throat, but he can’t - because he’s too busy trying to fight off this foreign invader. His body turned traitor, but this time - no, he thinks, a horrible revelation dawning on him, it was his mind too.

It throws his head backwards against the chair, his ears ringing and mind screaming for mercy.

The dull ache he felt now is a roaring storm, pushing up against the gates of his mind, ripping, scratching past every defense. But still he resists, swallowing any thought of giving in, steeling himself even as the pressure builds both in his mind and another on his throat, squeezing, only allowing him enough air to keep him breathing. Poe knew that he would be dead if that’s what the First Order wanted. But they didn’t want him dead, he strained against his grasp, helpless, no matter how much he wished they did now. It would be better to be dead than for them to find what they were looking for.

“Where is it?” He asks, and Poe feels every muscle in his body contract and ache against their imagined restraints and his very much real ones, the veins in his neck throb, another grunt falls from his lips as he feels the force push against his mind again and again and again.

But still he won’t give.

He thinks of Leia, of the Resistance, of his parents, of you.

“The Resistance…” he manages to whisper, “will not be intimidated by you.” His body arches forward, a new wave of pain washing over him, as he brings him forward in his restraints unnaturally.

“Where is it?” he repeats, and with his words, he feels another surge - this time bigger than all the others - he feels a crack in mind - one that the force wriggles its way into forcing it open. He screams, a guttural noise he didn’t know he could make. Even though he knows it’s helpless - that he’s helpless, he rails against it. But his body cannot.

The commander lowers his hand at once, and Poe’s body collapses against the chair, “Placing it in your BB unit, smart,” and Poe can imagine the bastard smiling underneath his helmet, “The First Order thanks you for your assistance.”

Poe cannot say anything - cannot summon even the strength to respond, he only watches him toward the door, allowing the guilt and shame to wash over him, before succumbing to the darkness that beckoned him to sleep.

~~~

He doesn’t dream of you this time.

Instead, he slips into a dreamless sleep. Minutes go by like hours, and by the time he’s forced to wake, he wonders how long he’s been captured for.

“Ren wants the prisoner,” he hears one stormtrooper order, and his restraints fly off. As he’s dragged down corridor after corridor, he wonders if there is any chance of escape. He’s not strapped to a chair, but he also has no gun, he has cuffs, and there are stormtroopers everywhere - including the one yanking him to wherever Ren wants him. Even now as he walks, he has to will himself to keep walking, and not simply collapse on the floor. He barely has the energy to spare a scowl at the stormtrooper. He wouldn’t give them the pleasure of seeing him fall.

But instead, he shoves him into a closet, “Listen carefully,” Poe stares at him, bewildered, “If you do exactly as I say, I could get you out of here.”

“What?” he didn’t know stormtroopers had a heart or a conscience - and that’s because largely they didn’t. That was stolen from them as children.

So, what was this? A trick or a farce?

When he pulls off his helmet, Poe believes it couldn’t be either - they never took off their helmets, “This is a rescue. I’m helping you escape. Can you fly a TIE fighter?”

He feels hope kick up in his chest, “You’re with the Resistance?”

“What? No, no, no, I’m breaking you out,” impatient and antsy, his eyes flickering to the hallway, “Can you fly a TIE fighter?”

The possibilities run through his head: he stays on his ship, he dies; he follows this stormtrooper, he’s lying, he dies; he follows this stormtrooper, he’s telling the truth, and they escape. Or they die.

“I can fly anything,” and he could, but still that nagging question still remained, “Why? Why are you helping me?”

He pauses for a half-second, “Because it’s the right thing to do,”

Bullshit, “You need a pilot.”

“I need a pilot,” he admits. And he was the only person who he could ask without risking immediately getting vaporized, or worse. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. He knew first-hand what they did to Resistance members, a chill went down his spine, who knows what they did to traitors.

Either way, he thought, lips curling, worked for him, as he long he could get off this deathtrap and back to BB-8. Nodding, “We’re gonna do this,” and he doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince - the trooper or himself.

“Yeah?” Maybe both, but he believed it regardless.

~~~

Poe has had a lot of stupid ideas over the years - and yet, he didn’t know what could top this one. Escaping in a TIE fighter off their base, with a rebelling stormtrooper who didn’t know how to shoot.

No, he really couldn’t think of something worse.

But was it impossible?

No. He could fix this. Or that’s what he told the stormtrooper when they realized the TIE fighter was tied down to the bay.

Poe flicked switches, pressed buttons, brain on auto-pilot, as he ran through procedure to free this damn ship, and finally he almost was done, “I’ve got it,” he tells the trooper, who had been surprisingly holding his own with the blasters.

Free from their restraint, they zoom away from the maw of the monster, but they weren’t free of it's grasp yet. His eyes dart, spotting several cannons along the base. There was no way they would live more than a few seconds unless they destroyed those. He relayed this to the trooper who nodded, “All right, I’ll get into position, just stay sharp,” and he hoped he was as good as he sounded with those blasters.

Poe lines up the shot, heart in his throat, as the trooper shoots, and they land their mark, zooming through the wreckage without a hitch. A wave of exhilaration thrums through his body, even as lasers dart past them, he can’t help but celebrate, if only for a moment.

He was alive. And he was out. And he didn’t even know his partner in escape’s name, “Hey, what’s your name?”

“FN-2187,”

Poe looks back at him, “FN- what?” He was far too tired for this.

“That’s the only name they ever gave me,” Poe frowns. FN...whatever wasn’t much of a name - it was barely a code. It was just a way of distinguishing them - the stormtroopers weren’t their assets - they were expendable. And a number was another way they knew that.

“Well, I ain’t using it,” he decides, “F-N, huh? Finn. I’m gonna call you Finn. Is that alright?” he asks, sparing a glance behind him.

“Finn? Yeah, Finn, I like that,” Poe grins, turning back to the console. Well now that’s decided-

“I’m Poe. Poe Dameron,” but there isn’t much more time for pleasantries when there are missiles on their tail. Dodge left, dodge right, shoot one down, and another replaces it. They needed to go, and they needed to now.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going back to Jakku. That’s where,” the entire fate of the resistance was back there - and there was no way he was leaving it there.

“No, we can’t go back to Jakku. We need to get out of this system.” He grits his teeth, should he tell him? Tell him why BB-8’s important? Tell him the truth. It could risk the mission - it could risk the information.

“I gotta get my droid before the First Order does,” he ignores the twinge at the thought of Ren ripping the memory from his mind.

“What? A droid?” Finn repeats.

“That’s right. He’s a BB unit, orange and white, one of a kind.” He shouldn’t, he shouldn’t tell him - but he pushes any harder against it - he won’t have a choice.

“I don’t care what color he is. No droid can be that important,”

“This one is, pal!” he snaps. He has to tell him - he knows, but if there’s any chance on convincing him without compromising-

“We gotta get as far away from the First Order as we can. We go back to Jakku. We die.”

Fuck it, “That droid has a map that leads straight to Luke Skywalker.”

Poe barely hears Finn exclaim, “Oh you gotta be kidding me!” before a blast sends their ship into a spiral. They plummet towards Jakku, faster and faster - and Finn screams to deploy themselves from the ship, and he does so, shooting off and away from the ship.

He himself? He wasn’t so lucky. He flipped the ejection switch, but nothing, "Shit, are you serious?" He tugged at the mechanism only to find his jacket had jammed it. He slammed his hand against the console, squirming his way out of the jacket. He looked at the growing ever closer ground and took control again. Well, he said he could pilot anything.

Fingers flying, he works his magic, trying to soften the ship's crash as much as possible, "Come on, baby," darting around the controls as the ship was approaching the ground - he had a small window - two, maybe three seconds.

"3," he looked out the window, the planet barreling toward him, he thought of you, "2," he had made a promise to you to make it back, "1." And he was going to keep it.

He threw himself from the ship right before it crashed, propelling himself as far from the crash as possible.

~~~~

It had been over a week. And you couldn't shake the feeling something had horribly gone wrong. It was a constant pit in your stomach, a gut punch when you thought of the last night you spent with him - the moments spent with smiles and love, only to end up colored with bitter regret.

This was only made worse when you reached out to your contact in the upper aughts of the Resistance that he hadn't replied to any communications since landing at his destination.

And then you heard - the Resistance camp had been destroyed, everyone slaughtered, and there had been no sign of Poe. You heard while at work, and there was no day more excruciating, each word, every movement bespoke with the possibility of tears. But instead you held it, tightly wound in the trenches of your stomach, until you walked through the doors of your pod and collapsed in the middle of the floor.

You don't remember how long you cried. You didn't eat, didn't change - you just slept. And slept. And slept. He was dead. Or they were torturing him. And you didn't know which was worse. No, what was worse is that you were wrong and you were right - you were wrong that it would hurt less when it ended, because you knew it surely hurt more, and you were right - that he would come back to you in pieces. If he would come back at all.

The pit in your stomach twisted, much like the knife you had plunged into his heart had. And now every word you said seemed so foolish, every step you had taken to avoid this pain so pointless. It was the same pain in the end - the pain of breathing without a purpose, of living without a dream.

You nearly laughed, how couldn't you see that your dream was always him?

Hours passed, and you nearly missed your shift at the medcenter, but you didn’t. Always early for work, but late for everything else, Poe would tease you. You tried to convince yourself that he could be okay - he could be alive, but then you thought of the dead on Jakku. You heard whispers from the others at the center - not a single soul made it. Each one of them had been run through without a thought.

Had Poe? A small voice nagged at the back of your head. Stomach lurching, you sobbed alone in an empty patient room, until all the sadness had left, leaving only the hollowness it had carved behind. Empty.

Was he in pain? Was he lying somewhere, blood trickling from his body, motionless? Alone? You had trained your whole life to save lives, but you couldn’t save him. He always wa— is the bravest person, your fingers brush your lips, for better or worse. He wanted to save the entire galaxy - you glanced at your uniform - and maybe it was time that you stepped up and did the same. And, finally stopped running away from everything that frightened you. Because it was going to happen - whether you hid from it or faced it.

"I want to rescind my resignation," you tell the chief medical officer, wringing your hands behind your back, her brow contorted in both exasperation and interest.

“You want to rescind your resignation on your last day with us?” her tone was far from the pleased tone you had foolishly had hoped for (but didn’t expect), her arms crossed tight across her chest, “You are one of our best medics, you have an impeccable record, and we would be glad to have you - but I thought you said this was not your calling any longer.”

"I did," you swallow the lump in your throat, "I will admit it was out of fear than anything else.”

“Fear?” her eyes sparked with disapproval.

“I had chosen to run away than towards my responsibilities - all the things we see," you suppress a shiver, "it was a lapse in judgement, one I won’t be repeating,” you add, steeling yourself for her rejection, “I understand if you can’t-”

“Your resignation is rescinded,” she cut you off, “You have done exceptional work, you’ve saved many lives, including Rhea’s - it was most impressive. Stars know we will be needing that help soon,” but her gaze hardens, “but the next time you resign, it will be final.”

“Thank you,” you gave a tight smile, relief flooding your chest and yet a thought nagged at your chest, “but why will we need that help soon? Is there another-”

She shook her head, “There are some things you are better off not knowing. Not yet. Not until we need to be ready."

You nod, wondering as you hear the whoosh of her door shut - how do you exactly prepare for war? Especially, you may have lost one of the reasons you were fighting for.

He woke on a planet. Or that's what he realized when he felt the ground around him. Was he dead? No, no, he groaned, muscles screaming as he tried to turn onto his side. Your body didn't cry for death when you were already dead. His eyes watered, though he nearly did.

His ears were ringing.

Where was he? What was he doing? He couldn't remember anything - anything. Not what he was doing, not his job, not even his name. Nothing. Fear trills up his spine, heart pounding hard against his chest, as nothing - nothing was coming to mind. Nothing at all, except...

The only thing he could remember was...you.

Your name played over and over in his head on a loop. And he didn't know why. He saw flashes, of your smile, of your face, but he could remember nothing else. He hissed in pain, a stabbing sensation in his head. His mind practically vibrated with pain, his fingers finding dried blood on his skin. Blood? From the crash?

The crash. The ship. Jakku.

He was on Jakku. He had to find BB-8 and get back to the base. But his body wouldn't move. Couldn't. As much he willed it to move, his body wouldn’t follow. Instead, he could lie there, and wonder if this is how he would die. Not at the hands of the First Order, not in his x-wing or Black One, but instead here, alone in a random desert of Jakku. It wasn’t what he imagined for when he’d die, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to die right now - not when he had so much left to do and so much he wanted to say.

He coughs, pain splintering through his body, hand reflexively covering his face, and he sees a glimpse of the shiny red on his fingers.

He wanted to get BB-8. He wanted to be there when the First Order was defeated. He wanted to punch Ren.

More than that, he wanted to thank Leia, for everything she’s done for him. He wanted to thank his whole squadron for being the family he never got to have. He wanted to have a future, one without war, death, and misery, one with you. One where he could just hold your hand.

But, his eyelids tugged, begging him to close them, maybe that wasn’t meant to be. His eyes fluttered open and shut, and he heard footsteps and shouting, before he succumbed to sleep.

"Please help," he muttered, before he was pulled into slumber once again.

~~~

You knew a launch of an attack was coming. Evident by the flurry of mechanics by the strip, the nervous energies of the soldiers, and the solemnity of the leaders. You had caught a glimpse of General Organa walking past the medcenter - the bags under her eyes complimented the grim line her mouth was drawn into. She must have not slept for days. You knew she had a soft spot for Poe - how did she take the news when she heard? But how does a leader take news upon hearing another one of their soldiers have died? Does it grow harder to care each time? Or does it hurt too much to dwell on?

Your chest squeezed. You didn’t care to dwell on that.

Instead, you readied yourself - an attack meant serious injuries, possible organ damage, and surgeries galore. You made sure each room was stocked with at least one bacta spray - supplies were running low - and you reviewed surgical procedures, ones more common with the sort of attack being waged. X-wings meant injuries of all sorts, and triage would need to happen within a snap. You knew you couldn’t save everyone - your body ached at the thought of Poe - but you sure were going to damn try.

The grief came in waves. Sometimes you were hopeful. Maybe he had pulled off another Poe Dameron miracle. You almost laughed at the idea - Poe Dameron simply showing up in a ship out of nowhere - how fitting. Stars knows he did well with his back to the wall. But then there were other times. Other times, you could barely stop crying - crying at the thought of him dying alone, either after being tortured or killed without a second thought. You rubbed at your eyes, no tears left to fall. Instead, you felt a dull ache between your eyes. Lovely. It had only been barely a week since he had gone, and it felt like a lifetime.

It was easier to work. Staying in your apartment only made your thoughts drift to him. Easier to let your mind grow numb with routine and busywork, with the preoccupation of patients and treatments. Besides, you felt closer to him this way - you weren’t running anymore, and you would never let fear dictate your life again.

After taking care of your patients for the day, you left the medcenter. Your eyes drifted to where Poe had been waiting for you, your nails digging into your palms. Would this gaping hole in your life ever leave? Would it grow smaller over time? Would his loss always cast massive shadow over your life? He would want you to be happy - and he would, of course he would and maybe you will be - but, you look up when you hear shouting, what was happiness without him?

You force yourself to continue walking, unable to look back. Spotting a crowd gathering by the strip, you frown - was some sort of send off ceremony happening? But why would other pilots be gathering around - and then you saw it. You blink.

The Black One.

Walking towards the crowd, your heart pounds against your ribcage, compressing any hope you had, any expectations, any thoughts at all. But your body wasn't having it - limbs shaking even before, as you parted your way through the sea of people. You couldn't hear. You couldn't speak. Not until you knew. Not until you saw for yourself - not until you saw if -

Finally, you break through to the center, and your breath catches in your throat. Your hands fly to your mouth, unwilling to let this moment pass - in paralyzing fear that it’s not real.

Was this a dream? You blink back tears - because you never wanted to wake up.

Poe Dameron stood, in one piece - his clothes worse for the wear, but smiling and laughing. His curls dusty and flat, his body red with scratches and black and blue bruises peeked through his sleeves. He was tired - his smile not reaching his eyes, shifting his weight as if he was ready to leave his welcome crowd.

Alive. He was alive.

And he made it back.

He looks up, as if he sensed you. And he finally sees you. His eyes light up, lips falling into an easy smile - one that reached his eyes, one which required no effort. He steps forward, sliding past the others, "Sweetheart-" he broke off, smile faltering, "sorry, I mean-"

You didn't let him finish. Your arms around his neck, you pulled him close, burying your head in his chest, "I'm okay," he mumbles, and you know he feels your tears wet his shirt, "I made it back to you." He whispers, as if he can’t believe it himself.

"I know, you’re here. You’re here," you don’t know if it’s to reassure him or you.

He pulls you away from the crowd, arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers tight. You lift your head to look up at him, his fingers brushing a tear from your cheek away, another running right over it.

“I will always make it back,” for you. Even though you don’t hear those words, you know it’s what he means. And he always has, hasn’t he? That was Poe Dameron.

“I know,” you lean away, your fingers drift to his, intertwining them, “and that’s only one reason why I love you.”

He blinks, "I-what do you-"

“I love you, Poe. I know I can’t stop,” You cup his cheeks, thumb running across his cheek, into the divots of his dimples, "I realized losing you isn't the scariest thing in the world-" he frowns, brow furrowed, "it's losing you without loving you. Loving like I do. Like I always have."

"Sweeth-" he cuts himself off again, and you shake your head.

"Call me sweetheart, call me whatever you want," more tears slip down your cheeks, "when I thought I never would hear you call me that, never hold me again, never tease me, never kiss me-" your voice broke, tears splattering on the ground, shaking your head, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was so scared. So scared to get hurt. But it was so much worse when you were gone-"

"Shh," he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, "I know. I know. The whole time, everything I did, I did to make it back here. To you, sweetheart." His eyes glassy with tears, "you are my home."

You leaned up, brushing your lips to his, chastely. And again. And again, until his arms found purchase around your waist, pressing you to him. Your hands tug on the front of his shirt, and he groans, but not in pleasure - in pain.

You break the kiss, and a small moan leaves his lips in protest, "How injured are you right now?"

He hesitates, biting his lip, "I got some treatment but -"

You shake your head, "Trying to pull more fancy moves to impress me?" You press another kiss to his lips, pulling him towards the Medcenter.

But he tugs you to his chest with a yelp, "Well it's worked out for me so far, hasn't it?" He nips at the soft spot behind your ear, before sighing, content, burying his face in the nape of your neck.

“Poe-”

“Just let me hold you for a second, okay?” you wrap your arms gingerly around him, fingers carding through his hair, rooting yourself in the reality that he was here, he was okay, he was alive.

~~~

“So you didn’t leave the medcenter?” He says, when you re-enter the patient room you had stuck him in, and you give a wry smile.

“Someone very wise told me I should stop letting fear dictate my life,” you say, pulling on gloves, “so I did. It was hard, but I realize what’s more important in life.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Oh, and what is that?”

Your lips curl, “Shirt off, Dameron,”

“Yes, ma’am,” he pulls the shirt over his head, as you return with bandages, a washcloth, a small basin of water and soap, “if you wanted to see me with my shirt off, you only had to ask.” You survey his torso - mostly bruises and scratches from what you could see.

You roll your eyes, dipping the washcloth in the warm water, “Don’t think I know that already?” You wring the cloth of almost all the water, before beginning to clean his cuts. “You are mine after all, wasn’t that the deal?” He leans up to press a kiss to your cheek, and then another to the hollow of your throat.

“As long as you’re mine,” Your hand glides over his chest, and he hisses as you scrub. You bit back a small smile, survived the First Order, and yet, still sensitive about his bruises. And it gives you an idea. Again, your hand slides over his chest with the damp cloth. But this time your lips follow its trail.

And this time when he hisses, it isn’t because of the pain, “Sweetheart,” it’s almost a warning - it’s cute, his voice deepens ever so slightly, and you feel the hitch in his throat when your lips ghost over it. His hands reach out to touch you, but you shake your head.

“I have to finish,” an innocent smile that he knew wasn’t innocent at all. You stand between his legs now, reaching behind him to scrub his back. Not exactly effective from a medical standpoint, but it definitely distracted him from the pain. You didn’t stop him from burying his head in the nape of your neck, his lips dotting paths all over any exposed skin, his breath heavy against your skin. He groans when your mouth ghosts over his ear.

Finally, he snaps.

His legs cage you in, his hands pulling you into a bruising kiss, before they rake down your sides, and you muffle a moan in his shoulder when he squeezes your hips. His fingers toy with the waistband of your pants, a moment of clarity in a thick haze of lust, “Poe, we cannot-” he pouts, lips pursed, and it’s all it takes to break you, “fuck it.” you mutter, no one was around this late anyway.

He grins, another searing kiss against your lips, his hands eager to wander, but you step away towards the exit to lock it - only for it to open instead.

“Oh, I-” your cheeks burn, “General.”

Correction, no one was around, except maybe the General.

General Organa stood in the doorway, a small smile on her lips, greeting you by name, as you stepped aside to let her in, “I heard you had returned, but I see you’ve been too busy to relay that information to me yourself.”

Poe scrambles to pull his shirt back on, and you open your mouth to protest, but upon seeing the...growing problem that he covers with the hem of his shirt, it dies in your throat, much like the moment, “General, after you are finished speaking, I do need him to finish getting treated. He still needs to be bandaged-”

“I understand,” she says with a nod, her lips pull on the corners of her mouth, “I understand you’re very important to him, more important as of late, so I’ve heard,” Poe coughs, looking pointedly from Leia.

You’re sure you look all too pleased with yourself, “He is to me too.”

Poe shifts his gaze between the two of you, “Who told you?” Leia shakes her head, a glint in her eyes.

“If you do not want people to talk, then perhaps don’t show your affection in front of a crowd,” Leia says, striding toward the door, “and perhaps lock the door earlier.” A flush crawls up his neck, as he follows her out, still daring to throw you a smile over his shoulder.

You blink, so does that mean you have her blessing?

~~~

Night falls quickly, but Poe's return is not. You don't bother to wait at the Medcenter - you know he would find you when he was done. But your eyelids pull at you, pleading for you to crawl into bed, underneath your warm sheets. And eventually you do - unable to stave off sleep any longer.

Well at least for a moment or two.

A knock on your door wakes you with a start, heart in your throat. Bleary eyed and stumbling, you find the door, knocking over half of what you own in the process. Without a second thought, you open it, rubbing at your eyes. You already know who it is after all.

Poe, lips pulled into a small frown and forehead creased, “Poe?”

“Sorry,” he says, eyes not quite meeting yours, “meeting ran long.”

You shake your head, yawning, “Don’t be sorry,” you tug him inside, door shutting and locking behind him. He didn’t sit - instead he stood, in the middle of the room, expression stormy, “What’s wrong?”

And like a snap of lightning, he looks up, “Nothing, nothing, sorry,” he shakes his head, before heaving a sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of the universe with it.

“Dameron, you can’t lie to me,” you amble over, still half-asleep, wrapping your arms from behind, face buried in his back, “what’s wrong?”

You feel the vibrations from his chuckle, as he pulls your knuckles to his lips, “Leia, she's-"

“Sending you on another mission? She wants you to lead the attack?” his head whips around, and you raise your eyebrows, “I’m not stupid, Poe. You’re the best pilot by far - you’re the commander of your own squadron. Of course they need you.”

He bites his lip, “And you are-”

“I told you,” you sigh, intertwining your fingers with his, “I’m okay. I will be here when you get back, and you will get back, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, hands slipping out of yours and onto your waist, "I like it when you take charge."

"Oh? Is that so, Commander?" You tease, your hands trailing down his front, tugging him closer with a small grunt leaving his throat, a quiet moan suppressed in his throat, "then let me take charge."

He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off with your lips, firm and unyielding, "And what do I get for listening?"

His hands grasp at your face, sliding down the sides, deepening the kiss, "You get to do whatever you want to me after,"

You walk him back towards the bed, enjoying how pliable the pilot had become in your hands. You pull at his shirt, over his head it goes, your hands immediately taking stock of the exposed skin. Your lips drag over his chest, smiling against his skin when his breath stutters from your touch. Your hands reach for his belt now, pulling it from his waist, wasting no time ridding him of his pants as you pushed him to sit down on the bed.

His palms rested against the edge of your bed, as his eyes peered up at you, biting his lip. You press your lips to his parting his legs to make room for yourself, moving his head in tandem with yours, leaning into your touch, even as your touch left him all at once.

A growl left his throat, "Sweetheart,"

"Patience, Dameron," you strip your slowly shirt off over your head and pull your shorts down, eyes never leaving his. He swallows, his eyes darkening when you realize you’re not wearing anything underneath. You step out of them sliding back over to him, between his legs again, “keep your hands on the bed, okay?”

“Baby-”

Your fingers weave their way into his curls, tugging his head back gently as you press a sweet kiss to his forehead, “I just got you back,” his eyes soften, “let me take care of you for once.”

He nods wordlessly, and he leans up for another kiss. You don’t think you would ever tire of how his lips felt against yours, how his body trying desperately to press closer, closer still, or how his soft moans vibrated against your lips. And then your lips leave his, kisses dotting a path down his body, lighting a fire that you would be sure extinguish slowly.

Your lips shudders against you, his eyes questioning as you kneel between his legs, “I didn’t take my time before, I didn't savor it," your hands run up and down the length of his thighs, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh before smiling against it, "I will never take you for granted again."

"Sweetheart," he moans, and you climb back up to press another kiss to his lips, as your hands trail downwards.

His hips jerk when you reach for the waistband of his boxers, lifting himself off the bed to help you pull them off. You kneel again, taking your time to familiarize yourself - kissing, sucking, brushing, but never touching where he wanted you to. Where his hands desperately wanted to lead you.

"Please," he asks, his knuckles white against the edge of the bed.

Your fingers brush his cock, spreading the pre-cum over the length of it. Fingers grasping it at its base, licking a stripe up the bottom. You look up to see him biting his lip, “Don’t hold back,” you murmur, and he looks down at you with lidded eyes, as you take the head into your mouth.

He groans, guttural and raw, as you take as much of his as you can into your mouth, “Sweetheart, please,” you begin to suck now, pulling another moan from his lips, you look up to see his head thrown back in beautiful, debauched bliss, “I want to touch you.”

You guide his hands to you, his fingers immediately threading into your hair, his hips being to thrust gently into your mouth, “Fuck, you are so beautiful,” he meets your gaze, panting, his cock twitch in your mouth, “I love how you feel around me, sweetheart. You do that so good.”

You swirl your tongue around him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, before gently pulling you off of him. Staring down at you, his chest rises and falls, a beautiful flush has taken hold of his skin. Your fingers trace his thighs, muscles still clenched tight under your touch. You slowly rise, licking your lips clean of him. He reaches out for you, asking silently if he could finally touch you, and you take his hand.

In a moment, he has you in his lap, your legs spread out for him, thighs on either side of his waist. He groans in your ear, when his fingers finally brush you, “So wet for me," he parts you with two fingers, and you gasp, "only for me," he murmurs, with an edge of possession that has you rocking against him. He sucks his fingers clean, and growling when he feels you grow wetter. He squeezes your hips, "tell what you want sweetheart."

You don't say anything instead you position yourself over him, his head prodding your entrance, arms around his shoulders, "I want you."

You see his breath catch, before he grabs you by the back of the neck, kissing you, all teeth and tongue. Then he pulls your hips down and you sink onto him, "Fuck," you whisper against his lips, and you hear him shudder when you shift, "I love you," you breathe, intermingled with his own, and you begin to move.

“Every time I wanted to give up,” Poe breathed, his lips pressing kisses to your collarbone, fingers squeezing your breasts, “I thought of you, and how much I loved you. How much I wanted this - to be with you every night. To wake up next to each other every morning. To not be afraid of leaving you.”

“Poe,” you whisper, and he loves how he moans your name in your ear.

His hips begin to snap up, meeting you with every thrust, “I will always make it back to you,” he grabs your hips and shifts you so he hits deeper the next time, and you begin to clench around him, “and I want to feel you cum for me. C’mon sweetheart,” he licks up the side of your neck, his fingers drifting to where you met to rub at your clit, “Say my name when you cum for me.”

And you tighten around him, as he pulls you into a kiss, his lips swallowing your moans, continuing to thrust through your high, until you hear him groan your name against your lips, “Come inside me,” you say, breathless, and he does as you say, spilling inside you.

You ease into his lap, still buried in you, as you both come down. His arms steady you, warm and safe, trailing up and down your body before settling right above your hips. You run your fingers through his hair mindlessly, relishing in how he felt pressed against you. His head buried in your shoulder, his curls tickle your neck as he presses lazy kisses against your skin.

Then he pauses, “Do you think we could try this in an x-wing?”

You snort, drawing back to look at him, “That’s what came to mind?”

He laughs, a noise that makes your chest swell, and you smile at him, “Something to share, sweetheart?”

“I just love you so much,” you sigh, eyes shutting even as he helps you move from his lap. Your eyes begrudgingly open, “What are you-” He maneuvers his way to his strewn clothes. You bite your lip as your eyes drift to his ass, unabashedly admiring it, as he pulls his boxers on.

He raises a brow as he turns around, catching you in that act, “And apparently, my ass too,” he grins, much too pleased, before stepping into the refresher, only to return with washcloth to clean you both off. You shrug, trying to suppress your own smile, as he crawls over, washcloth in hand, you take it from him. When you finish, he hands you his shirt, “because I know how much you like how I smell.”

“And how do you know that?” you murmur, pulling on the shirt, resisting the urge to bring the fabric to your nose. He leans close to press a small kiss to your lips.

“Because I felt you sniff me the night before I left for Jakku,” your cheeks burn, as you splutter, and he raises a finger, “you’re such a bad liar. It’s cute,” he adds, you roll your eyes, “No wonder you can’t be a pilot.”

You gape at him in mock offense, “And what does lying have to do with being a pilot?” and the smile slides off his face, and his jaw sets. A flicker of emotion disappears as quickly as it appears. It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room, instead a thick tension settling over the room. Stifling. You watch him, the thoughts in his mind a haze over eyes, “Poe-”

He shakes it off with a terrible attempt at a smile, “No, it’s nothing. I’m sorry-” he kisses your forehead sweetly, “I don’t want to ruin our only night together-”

“Poe,” you cup his face, and he stops, your thumb drawing back and forth against his cheek, “We never talked about what happened after Jakku.”

“You don’t need to-”

“I want to know,” you tilt his face up gently to look at you, his eyes glassy, “if you’ll tell me, if you want to talk about it. You should talk about it.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but his shoulders slump under the weight of it all. And you see him give up before a fight. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, “It’s not pretty,”

“I didn’t expect it to be,” He stays silent, “I don’t want to force you, but I love you, and I’m always here-”

“They tortured me,” he blurts in a whisper, “At first, it was nothing - nothing I couldn’t handle anyway. They train you to resist - I mean they don’t call us the Resistance for nothing,” a bitter laugh caught in his throat. You want to comfort him. You want to say something. But every word feels wholly inadequate. Every sentence a platitude. Instead, your fingers brushed his shoulders, arms engulfing around him in the comfort you wanted to surround him, chin on his shoulder. A reminder that he was safe. That had made it back. Despite the odds, he had lived.

“I’ll spare you the details, but, when Ren came - it was different,” muscles tensing, he squeezes his eyes shut, “He tried to get to talk, and then when he couldn’t. He used the force on me.”

Your eyebrows knit together, “Poe-”

“It was a low buzz at first - I could feel it, slipping into my body, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it,” his body roils, his fingers curling into fists, veins throbbing. His heart thrummed in his chest, against your front. Your hand found his, gently prying at the nails digging into his flesh, until intertwined, “Then it was stronger still, pushing, urging, slamming. A hand reaching into my body, my mind - looking for something I wouldn’t give it,” A tear splatters against your thigh, “I tried to fight it. I thought I could. And then..”

He shudders, covering his face, covering his eyes with his forearm, “I couldn’t anymore. I couldn't stop him, and now…" his nails dig into his skin, and he swallows - the fear, the sadness, but not his anger, “I swear, I will bring them down. I will burn the First Order to the ground.”

You give a tight nod, “I know,” your hand guides his gaze to yours, “You will. We will,” before adding, “You’re not in this alone, Dameron.”

A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, “I’m not?”

“Never,” you press your forehead to his, “not as long I’m here. And Leia. And everyone else here. We won’t stop until the end.”

“Until the end,” he repeats, eyes slowly shutting at the thought, a small smile on his lips, “A galaxy without a war.”

“It will happen,” you squeeze his hand, “and we’ll be there to see it.”

He sighs, as he chooses then to lie his head in your lap, eyes shutting as your fingers explore his curls."and then what will we do? After the war?"

You hum, ignoring the flutter of affection spreading across your abdomen, “I never really thought about it, have you?” you ask, and he purses his lips in mock thought, and the affection swirls into nerves, jittery.

“I always thought about living on Yavin IV again,” his expression softens, “where I-”

“Where you grew up with your parents,” you finish, as his eyes peer up at you, “I know you pretty well, Poe Dameron,”

“Really?” he turns so his head is now facing your stomach, “then, answer these questions,” His fingers slip under the hem of his shirt, igniting any jitters into heat, “and I’ll make it worth your while.” His lips press a kiss right above your belly button.

“Question?”

He smiles against your stomach, “Parents’ names?”

“Shara and Kes,” you feel his lips explore the soft flesh of your stomach with reverence.

“When did I find the love of my life? I mean, the one besides you,” he adds. You laugh, his deft fingers making it no better by brushing your sides.

“I think you were six?” and he confirms it with a kiss, “When your mom taught you to pilot for the first time, and you never stopped.” you feel his lips wander below your bellybutton now, “Do you think about her a lot when you fly?”

“It’s more a feeling,” he sighs, and you shiver when his warm breath billows across your bare skin, “i always remember how it felt to fly with her - it was exciting, but it was also…” his lips quirk against your skin, as he meets your gaze, “It was safe.” Your hands trace absentminded circles across the panes of his shoulders, “Okay, last question.”

He parts your thighs to make room for himself between them, pushing the hem of his shirt far above your hips, fingers splayed on either knee, drifting closer, closer, closer. His lips skim your knee, closer to your thigh now, and then even closer.

“Who do I see spending my life with on Yavin IV?” he rests his head against your knee, curls tickling the skin there. And impossibly. your feelings for him grow.

It was a warmth in your chest that told you so, but it still seemed ever so implausible. It was unfeasibly so. Each day you thought you knew him. Each day you thought you loved him. But everyday you learned something more - something else about him you didn’t know. And loved him even more.

How was it possible to love someone so completely?

“Are you trying to sweet talk me so I agree to the x-wing?” And his chuckle reverberates across your entire body, as he leans closer to your warmth.

“Sweetheart, I already have.”

~~~

Morning comes all too soon. As does the dread, so deeply ingrained in your dreams the night before - you thought Poe had already left when you awoke. But no, he laid sleeping next to you. You tamp down the urge to brush your fingers over his face or press a kiss to his cheek - you knew he would wake and it would be that much sooner that he would leave. It was easier - easier to let him sleep, to enjoy these few moments with him, his breaths puffing out evenly from between his lips.

It was nice to see him so peaceful after last night.

A stab of anger went through you, before it became a roaring wave. What you would give to run that monster’s own lightsaber through his chest. But he would get his own one day - hopefully not before Poe had his chance to punch him.

And perhaps, for you to get your own in as well.

But you didn’t want to think about the First Order. You didn’t want to think about the war. You didn’t want to think about the fact that he was leaving soon.

You just wanted to think about him. About a future after the war. About Yavin IV.

You jolt from your thoughts when he rolls over closer to you, “You know it’s very difficult to sleep when someone is watching you,” his voice thick and deep with sleep, his arm winds its way around you, pulling your head to his chest. Ironically, your breath stutters when he breathes you in, “but I don’t mind it when it's you.”

“How did you wake up?” and a small rumble vibrates against your skin.

“I had a dream,” he sighs, eyes fluttering open as he moves away to gaze at your face, “but I think I prefer reality.”

“Even when you have to leave soon?” your eyes drift to the chronometer, but he draws your gaze back to him with a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Even then,” he grins, pushing himself up to hover over you, noses brushing as he stares down at you, “because it will be that much sooner that I get back to you, sweetheart.”

"I know," and he reaches inside his shirt, pulling a chain out - the same one he wore at all times, his mother's ring glinting in the sunlight as it hung from the chain.

"I want you to have this," he starts to pull it off, but you stop him, "no, I do." His eyes blazing, any protests die in your throat, "this is my promise. This is my promise that I will make back to you."

"Poe," you shake your head, and his face falls, "I only need your word to know that you'll make it back to me. Your mother's ring is important to you - she's the reason you fly," you press a kiss to his lips, "I'll get to wear the ring someday, after all of this is over. But right now," you press a kiss to his lips, "you should keep it."

He pauses for a moment, before cracking a smile, his curls falling across his forehead, "did I just hear you propose to me?"

“Consider it a promise,” and his expression softens, lifting your knuckle to his lips.

“I’m holding you to that, sweetheart.”

After some time, you’re forced to get dressed - both to say goodbye to Poe, and to go in for a shift.

At the hangar, you stand to the side, watching him run through the tests for the Black One with Wren. He wipes the sweat from his brow, stepping back from the ship, an easy smile on his lips when his eyes fall on you again. You adjust the white vest over his orange jumpsuit, the orange reminding you of a certain droid, “Tell BB-8 that I miss him okay? And that I’ll see you both soon.” you tell him, a flicker of guilt crosses his face, “you will find him. He’s okay.”

“I know,” he bites his lip, “I just hate flying solo.”

“You love flying anytime,” finally his lips quirk, and his arm tugs you close his hand drifting dangerously close to your ass, “Poe,” you mean it to come as a warning, but it comes out far too breathless.

“I’m still holding you to your promise,” he murmurs against your cheek, and you flush, looking at the x-wing, “and I'll keep mine." His jaw sets for a moment as he glances at the ship - and he frowns. All too preoccupied with thoughts of war, BB-8, the impending battle. You tug at his vest.

"A small home," his brow creases in confusion, "on Yavin IV. Maybe in a clearing somewhere, surrounded by trees. Enough space for you to fly, and maybe to teach someone to fly," his eyes shine at the thought, "we are taking BB-8 with us right?”

He kisses you then, full and unyielding, and you taste the ration he had eaten this morning on his lips. His fingers on the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, before he finally parts, pressing his forehead to yours, eyes shut, "Anywhere I go with you is home."

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to cry. You will not cry over Poe Dameron again. Even as he boards. Even as you watch him take off with his squadron.

Because you will see him again.

~~~

The quiet around the base during an attack is eerie. The silence hangs over the entire encampment like a low lying smog - suffocating and visible. Fewer x-wings line the strip, fewer people rushing about, mechanics in their barracks, and a quiet settles. The fear very much sits in your throat, with every breath or every bite of food you swallow. It also lingers in your stomach, much like a disagreeable meal.

There were moments you forgot: you laughed at something your co-workers said or at a joke your patient made. You would smile, but then you would feel it - the memory of a wound that hadn’t happened yet. And the happiness would dissipate, leaving only the thought.

It was worse when it was quiet.

Even worse when you weren’t busy, and all you were left with were “what ifs” again.

And that’s why you found yourself sitting by the hangar, watching mechanics return to the barracks after doing some repairs. Your head drifted towards the sky. No sign. And no word for that matter.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for him this whole time,” Your head snaps to attention and you see General Leia Organa standing. You had seen the General very few times. Poe was her protege - yes - and you were just one of the many stitching up her soldiers. You didn’t blame her, of course, you wouldn’t trade places with her for anything. The immense pressure, the pain of loss, the fear of failure…It must weigh on her each and every day - and yet, she still rose. She still led. She still fought.

“General,” she puts you at ease with a gentle wave of her hand, and you found her beside you. You stood in comfortable silence, relatively, as comfortable as you could be besides the leader of the Resistance. You resist the urge to wring your hands or to glance at her. Her stare was penetrating - one look you felt completely vulnerable, completely open. Like she had your worth and your life in one fell swoop. But still...you couldn’t resist asking, “What are you doing here?”

“The same thing you are doing,” out of the corner of your eye, you see her staring at the sky as well, “looking.”

“What are you looking for?” the words slip out, and regret washes your face in red, "Apologies, General, I-"

"I'm thinking about my husband," you try (and fail, you suspect) to hide the look of shock coloring your expression, “don’t look so surprised, aren’t I allowed to reminisce?”

“Of course, I apologize. It’s just-” you break off, a complete loss of words.

"My husband and I had many adventures. Sometimes together. Others apart. But we always shared the same sky - perhaps not the same planet's, but we shared the same galaxy. Most times it had been enough," her gaze fell to the ground, "other times it wasn't."

You don't waver this time, "I was scared at first. Poe, what he does. It scared me that I wouldn't be able to save him. That I wouldn't be enough -" you finally allow yourself to look at her, and you found her staring back, "but I realize I didn't need to save him. I just needed to support him," you bite your lip, "maybe you both need to support each other."

Expression unreadable, her gaze shifts away from you, “You’re just as Poe described,”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “And how did he-”

“He spoke of you with pride, but softness,” she tells you, almost wistfully, “everything he does, he does with his whole heart, he does for the Resistance, but he also does it for you.”

“How do you know?" Her features grow softer.

"Because I've felt it for another," she takes one last look at the sky, "they will arrive back soon enough," she nods at you, "please be ready to treat them. I am counting on you to do your best."

You barely remember to nod, watching her back retreat, and she pauses, "I entrust you with his care. He is a good commander, but an even better man."

"I know," your voice caught in your throat, "I will."

And for a moment, the quiet doesn't seem so daunting.

~~~

And it was as General Organa said: it happened quickly.

The front doors of the medcenter bursted open, an orderly panting from running from the strip nodded, and that’s when you knew. They had returned.

Grabbing your kits, everyone rushed out prepared to triage, stabilize, and transfer.

They came back, some were lucky - some made it back intact; but others were not. Already you could see a few fires where x-wings had crashed into the ground, the smell of burning metal and flesh heavy in the air. You didn’t have time to take in much else.

It was patient after patient.

One by one, you darted from x-wing to x-wing, helping other medics to get the severely injured to the medcenter, stabilizing the ones you could do on site. The most difficult part was the diagnosis - one mistake, and it cost the person their life. And a little bit of your humanity.

Dislocated shoulders, broken bones, chemical burns - nothing you hadn’t seen before, and in quantities that the medcenter could handle. Still, your nerves bit at you, waiting - waiting for the other shoe to drop. But with every patient you handled, you slowly realized it wasn’t coming - the patients grew less, and less ships began to return. But was that a good thing? A shiver went down your spine - after all, these were just the ones that were able to return.

And still, no sign of Poe or the Black One.

But it wasn’t the time to think of that. You had a job to do, taking a moment to wipe the dripping sweat from your brow. Everything else would come later.

Hours passed, and you went from one patient to the next. Barely a moment to breathe, much less sit, but you allowed your body a moment of stillness, amongst the chaos. Staying in place was as dangerous as lying down - especially if you wanted to keep working.

Either way, you couldn’t stay idle, not for long anyway - not when you had a job to do, and a procedure to get to. Despite this, you still heard the whispers amongst the medics - the battle had ended. You could see it too - less panic, less chaos, and less medics. Soon you could go home - and a tiny part of you hoped - hoped Poe would be waiting outside, against the medcenter wall again.

But when you found someone waiting for you outside the medcenter - it wasn’t Poe - it was his mechanic, “Wren,” you blink, “didn’t I tell you I decided to stay-”

“You did,” the corners of her lips made an attempt at a smile, but instead it only made her frown more pronounced, “Poe asked me to pass on a message for you, he had to run out on another mission,” throat tight, you give a stiff nod, heart dropping down to your feet.

“Thank you for letting me know, any idea when he will be back?”

She shook her head, “You know how these things are - but he did get BB-8 back, so he’s in good company,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Well between the two of them, BB-8 does seem to have custody of the brain cell more often, especially for a droid,” Wren grinned, and you sighed, the thought weighing on your already tired body more heavily than you thought it would. You took a step forward, and the planet spun underneath you, legs made simultaneously of iron and jelly.

Everything was garbled, distant, even as Wren asked, “Are you okay?” you barely heard it, and then nothing.

~~~

Warm. Too warm. You felt consciousness and reality pull at you, but you pushed it away, instead focusing on how comfortable you were in the slippery arms of sleep. You felt something brush against your forehead, and you knocked the annoyance away, utterly too sleepy to deal with being bothered. But that only served to wake you further. You furrowed your brow, realizing the edge of this bed was much closer than you though-

You froze, this wasn't your bed.

Eyes blinking open, you groaned, covering your eyes again, the harsh light of the world of the living far too...harsh for you. Stars, your head hurt.

Groggy and confused, you finally could open your eyes. And you spotted familiar surroundings - no First Order abduction, but rather one done by your workplace. You moved to sit up, but after several seconds of struggling, you gave up, resigned. It felt like someone jabbed a lightsaber right through your forehead. What happened?

You fell back on your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut, you were still so tired. A groan left your lips, drawn out and muffled against your pillow.

"And what a welcome home that was," you furrowed your brow, lifting your head.

Arms crossed across his chest, his white popped collar shirt looking thoroughly slept in. His lips pulled into an impossibly wide grin, eyes somehow still glinting mischievously, despite the dark bags under them. He set down the rations he had, rounding the bed to your side. And somehow you found the strength to push yourself up and into his arms, head resting against his very real middle, "is this a dream?" You mumbled against him, his laughter made you vibrate.

He hummed, "I think if this were a dream we would both have much less clothes on," you scoffed, and he laughed again, as your hands fisted in his shirt, "I thought I was the one who was supposed to end up in the hospital, not you."

"I don't even remember what happened," you pulled back to look up at him, and he frowned, "I remember the x-wings returning, triaging, then leaving to go home, and then...Wren told me you left on a mission."

"And then you passed out from dehydration," he shook his head, running his fingers through your hair, "Wren brought you inside. As soon as I heard, I came here, and I slept here. I wanted to be here when you woke up."

"Hm, not the same as waking up beside you," you said, burying your head in his middle, hearing his heart thump particularly hard against his chest, "but close enough."

"Well now that you're awake, I think we can arrange for that," and you drew back, grinning up at him, he ran his fingers down the side of your cheek, "if you'll have me?"

You pulled him by his collar into a kiss. He succumbed to your touch immediately, his fingers finding the back of your neck to pull you closer, his tongue sliding into your mouth. Your hand found purchase on his shoulder, and then in the small curls on the back of his neck, re-affirming for this moment, and forever, he was here. He was home.

"Poe Dameron," you murmur, foreheads pressed together, "I think I'll have you for the rest of my life."

EPILOGUE

And again, you found yourself in the exact same predicament.

“What do you want, Dameron?” you didn’t look up from the small cutting board, even as his arms curled around your waist, pressing his chest to your back. The afternoon light pierced through the open window, casting the whole cabin in a warm hue, despite the shade the immense trees provided.

So maybe, not the exact same predicament.

His beard dragging over your skin as he pressed kisses to the crook of your neck, “Sweetheart-”

You held up your hand, the one with the knife in it, “No sweetheart,” you turned, hands on your hips, “you’ve been distracting me all day, and I’m actually trying to cut some fruit for us to enjoy since we have not eaten since this morning.”

He bit his lip, before his lips curled in a smile, eyes flickering up and down your body, “Well I ate just a few minutes ago,”

Your cheeks burn, “I meant food.”

“Oh,” he says with a cheeky smile, “fine. Then, how can I help, wife?”

You roll your eyes, pressing your lips into a line to hide your smile, “Why don’t you go wait for me outside, General?"

“Yes, ma’am,” he winks, stepping out of the cabin, and you smiled, despite yourself, finishing up with the fruit.

You find him sitting on a tree stump, and you pause. His black curls had a touch of salt and pepper gray in them now, including his beard. He grow it out, thick and mildly untamed, especially when you let it slip how much you actually liked it.

You weren't complaining.

His eyes still had that glint in them that made your heart skip several beats, and his smile remained utterly and annoyingly charming, his laugh even more so - no longer weighed down by the pressures of war. Now he could fly anytime he wanted - but just for the thrill of it. His hands were now bruised and rough, but not from risking his life, but from making one with you.

“Are you just going to stare at me, or join me?” you blinked, as he turned his head to smile at you, “because I don’t mind either.”

“How do you always know?” you hand him the plate, choosing to sit against his legs on the ground, “Does being a pilot entail having eyes in the back of your head?”

“Always ready, baby," you peer up at him, head between his legs, "our groves are doing well, aren't they?"

You hummed, "Because of your work on them, and all my help, "

"You mean when you watch me work without my shirt on?" He snorts, handing you a few pieces of fruit from the plate, “very helpful.”

You take a bite enjoying how the cool citrus flavor dances across your tongue, “I meant more taking care of everything else,” before you add, “well besides cooking.”

You don’t need to look at him to know he has that knowing smile across his lips and you turn to confirm your suspicions, only to watch him lick his fingers, the juice from the fruit running down his fingers, hiding his smile behind his hand.

You turn around, licking a wide stripe up the side of his hand, all the way up his pinky. His pupils dilated, lips parted as his eyes, the smile wiped off his face as your mouth closed around two of his fingers, sucking the juices off his fingers, before mouth popping off, as you dust yourself off.

Walking backwards, grinning at your still dumbfounded husband, “Isn’t it about time for dinner?" You grin at his agape expression, before scurrying off towards the cabin, your laugh echoing above the thick jungle of Yavin IV when you hear him yell your name as he chases after you.

~~~

After a very long night, Poe awakes to an empty bed, his arm not finding your soft warmth, but a cold sheet. His eyes flutter open to see the light filtering in through the window, “Sweetheart?” he groans, burying his head in the pillow for a moment, listening to the silence for a reply.

Nothing.

BB-8 rolls in the doorway, “Buddy, where’s-” he beeps, waiting for Poe to follow him.

"it's so early, what is-"

You were staring at the x-wing, arms crossed over your middle, "Sweetheart?" You jump, spotting the nearly imperceptible motion of you wiping a tear from your eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," you offer a small smile, eyes still glassy. You must notice his furrowed brow, as you shake your head, "everything is fine."

"Your eyes don't seem to agree," you laugh waterily, intertwining your hand with his easily - as easy as it always has been. He always loved the weight of your hand in his, maybe that's why he was always dragging you everywhere. It was an excuse to touch you, to be closer, to breach that line he had drawn for himself in the sand. The one he thought he'd never breach.

He'd never be able to thank the stars for your slip that night. Your admission that led to your kiss. Otherwise maybe, you wouldn't be dragging him somewhere.

You pulled him towards the x-wing, and he raised a brow, "Are you actually offering-"

"Once was enough, Poe," you roll your eyes, "it was also uncomfortable and I think I still have bruises from the dashboard to prove it."

"Still worth it," and you scoffed, "then why-"

You pulled him in, making him take a seat, at the helm, "Remember when we talked about our life here?"

He blinked, "Yeah?'

"Well, you said you always wanted to teach someone to fly this thing," he tilted his head, gears in his mind working out this riddle, "and I'm sure not flying this thing."

His mouth fell open, and his eyes flitted from your face to your stomach, "You-"

"We are," you squeezed his hand, moving it to place on your stomach, "BB-8 is going to have a sibling." His laugh was consumed by a sharp breath, pressing his forehead to yours.

"We're having a baby, sweetheart," he whispers reverently, feeling the corners of his eyes sting with fresh tears, his lips press to yours, pulling you into a tight hug. He inhaled deeply, burying his face in your shoulder. He never wanted to forget this moment.

He squeezed his eyes shut. When his mother passed, he thought he would never forget - forget the sound of her voice, what her smile looked like, what it felt like to be held by her. But time wore on, fraying the memories at their edges until they unraveled. Some things he remembered better than others, just as some days are better, but even now those strong memories were beginning to waver. Each time he realized, it gnawed away at him, a loss that he believed would never leave him. And it wouldn't. Not completely. Nor would the pain of the battles he had fought. The people he had lost. His parents. Leia.

Leia. He knew she would have loved his child. He knows it - so much so that his chest aches. Probably would have spoiled them. Doted on them. He thought he would never get over losing her -

But now, maybe, he leaned back to look at you. Even a little, that loss seemed to ebb away, and instead of sadness, he felt hope.

He presses a sweet kiss to your lips, "I think you just gave me my new dream, sweetheart."

You smile, "And you just gave me mine."

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #poe dameron imagines #sw #sw fanfiction #tfa #the force awakens #i worked too hard at this fic holy shit #please give it a read #i have no idea what to tag this as whoops #star wars imagines

257 notes · View notes

jlf23tumble · 5 years ago

Note

Hi! I've seen you rec fics before and I'm wondering if you have any recommendations for Harry Styles fics that deal with gender. Like Harry being either nonbinary or that being the focus of the plot in some way. Thanks!

I have GOT YOU, my friend! I answered a similar ask a long time ago, so I’ll bring those recs over, plus add newer ones, just to keep us up to date. Same caveat as before, though--these fics delve a bit deeper into the genderfluid side of the fine line rather than just the “harry in panties” side because I think you’re more interested in the former, but if I’m wrong, let me know! Enjoy!

Us, Me, We, @homosociallyyours, 2.3 (Harry/Harry, Harry/Louis). Featuring Harry trippin’ balls and truly seeing “her” in the mirror.

you make me wanna (how deep is your love), orphan_account, 2.5k (harry/louis). As the notes say, “straight up porn,” featuring trans Harry.

Friendly Fire, @vondrostes, 2.6k (Harry/Ny). Look, you’ll see a lot of Terran here, I had to hold *back*, but he writes tons of pairings, so there’s something for everyone, and I rec it all! In this case, Harry learns an important lesson about why he shouldn’t date straight women.

No Control, thegirlwthekittentattoo, 2.6k (Harry/Louis). The dialogue here is EVERYTHING, it’s cute and hot and emotional yet still funny, like Harry’s bra being named Christi with an “i”, and I loveeee how much is packed in here.

Silent Night, @sulkingroom, 2.7k (Harry/Xander). I’m 99% sure this is Melissa, not orphan_account, but she’s another author who writes stunning fics that play with gender, this one featuring trans Harry at Christmas.

She, Myself, and I, @vondrostes, 3k (Harry/Nick). Angst city, with Harry telling Nick exactly who “she” is.

Every Drop of Rain, haemophilus, 3.3k (Harry/Taylor). Told through Taylor’s eyes, a fascinating look at Harry and his gender journey. (I highly rec this author’s work in other pairings for similar vibes!)

if they find out, will it all go wrong? blankiexrry, 3.4k (Harry/Louis). Gender exploration behind the scenes when the D played MSG, plus extra kink added!

The Assassination of Harry Styles’ Dignity, wishforwishes, 3.5k (Harry/Nick). This one was in the pubefest, and it’s gryles angst hours gorgeously done as Harry ponders shaving past and present (highly rec this author for gender exploration in other pairings, too).

She Feels So Good, Zedi, 4k, and its sequel, Turns Out She’s a Devil In-Between the Sheets, 3k (Harry/Louis). Mannnn, this universe is so good! Part one is behind the scenes of the Late Late Show after Kiwi, and part two is sexi times in Italy. I utterly adore how this Harry shifts right along with her pronouns.

Fertile Ground, Blake/ @newleafover, 4.4k (Harry/Louis). Jesus wept specifically at this story, CHRIST, so much dysphoria-related angst!! The sheer number of moments guaranteed to make you stare at the wall for one (1) hour, help!

into joy i’m sailing, @hereforlou, 4.6k (Harry/Louis). The tenderness LEAPS off the screen in this one, Harry forgets he’s wearing a dress when Louis comes over for dinner, and I peel my heart out of my throat every time.

weird honey, orphan_account, 5.4k (Harry/Louis). I’m a big lurker in fic comments, and these ones give me joy because big names from a time when this Harry drew even more hate than today are here, spreading love and support--who was this author? This story is so GOOD, I’d love to know what else they did! (In this case, a sex toy helps Harry deal with not having a vagina.)

violence of my own touch, 14hrflight/ @got2ghost, 5.2k (Harry/Louis). Chi is yet ANOTHER author to read for spot-fuckin’-on genderfluid characterization (here, it’s alpha/alpha with all kinds of bdsm, dysphoria, angst, and more).

it’s you i want to take apart, orphan_account, 5.9k (Harry/Louis). This author--in the year of our lorde 2012--watched the nail polish interview and created a work of art that went even deeper, their MIND!!! What else did they foretell??!!!!!

Love at Home, @vondrostes, 6.9k (Harry/Xander, Harry/Zayn/Xander). This fic is HYPER-current, like, mid-quarantine, and it features some Zarry history, some pregnancy-related dysphoria, and so much more, plus horses!! (The horses aren’t actually all that involved, I just love to see ‘em.)

Vinyl and Lace, objectlesson/ @alienfuckeronmain, 7.5k (Harry/Louis). This one kills me because it’s XF days, and you get the full-on sensation that this is meant to be kinky play funtime, but it’s going to end up being something much bigger on so many fronts, we love to see it!

Are You Gonna Be My Girl? LoadedGunn, 7.5k (Harry/Louis). EASILY my fave fic this author wrote, basically, Louis talks about his first time with a girl, Harry decides to be that girl, and the dirty talk hits different in the end!

call me anything you like, but my name is, wishforwishes, 9.9k (Harry/members of CHASM). [muffled internal screaming whenever I think of this fic] It starts with BSE Veronica/Zayn and ends with Harry Veronica/Zayn, and so much revelation happens in between, goddddd bless.

fallin’ and laughin’ at the drinks we spilled, enbyharry/ @non-binharry, 14k (Harry/Louis). Asia’s description in the notes kills me, but #vanlife Louis runs into proud Harry in some bar and shenanigans ensue is the upshot!

But She Doesn’t Know Who I Am series, jaerie, 15k (Harry/Louis). I love that one of the tags here is “louis asks inappropriate questions” because that’s honestly most of what happens!!

o/o angst series, HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals, 17k (Harry/Louis). I miss Nina’s writing like a phantom limb, and I doubt they’ll return to this universe, but I swear, I will read (and rec) ANYTHING they produce when the muse visits them again! This one is as its title says, and it doesn’t disappoint, heavy sigh.

Grenadine Sunshine, objectlesson/ @alienfuckeronmain, 18k (Harry/Louis). This fic is a peach of a pearl written as a gift for one of this fandom’s best authors, and it perfectly captures the Mood of that author, with so much softness, makeup, gender, and tender.

Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry series, 14hrflight/ @got2ghost, 22k (Harry/Louis). SO MANY GENDER ISSUES EXPLORED HERE, WOW!! College roommates come to terms with their identity, and, mannnnn, do I love it when a/b/o gets unstraightened, if you will, chef’s kiss all around.

Nothing You Can Do (But You Can Learn How to Be You in Time), Teumessian, 28k (Harry/Louis). Also known as the pinterest fic, this one is just so soft and lovely, an identity story told through hair (among other things).

genderfluid!harry series, istajmaal, 33k (Harry/Louis). This entire series hits just as hard today as it did when it was written in 2013, a time when people were aggressively trying to make fetch frat boy Harry happen (some of ‘em still are, lmao). Anyway, this is another author I highly rec for all their other fic, but this one does an A+ job of describing Harry’s gender exploration mid-D madness.

Amor Victorious, HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals, 38k (Harry/Louis). Another brilliant work from Nina, you feel like you’re on this journey with them, PLUS it dives deep into gender identity struggles, PLUS it throws a/b/o for a loop, all of which equals a big yes from me!

hush., wankerville, 41k (Harry/Louis). One of my all-time faves, this one tackles so many phobias, all while being set in a small-town America high school AU and managing to be the softest, most gorgeous, most hopeful thing in spite (because?) of that.

Time Passed, coffinofachimera/ @belialsmiracles, 66k (Harry/Louis). LISTEN, I WILL NEVER, EVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS FIC, I can only hope the author will bless us with a timestamp or something else entirely, it’s so beautifully done, it makes you think of nothing else for days, it RUINS you for other fic (I highly rec the author’s other work, too). You’ll never look at Tokyo Harry the same way again (or listen to “She” or “Fine Line” without getting more than a little misty). GOLD STAR!

Made of Lightning, @vondrostes, 74k (Harry/Louis, Harry/Liam, Harry/Louis/Liam). Just...the tags on this don’t do full justice to the journey of it, to the imagination of this specific timeline! I adore how Terran writes trans Harry!

Second Spring, @vondrostes, 103k (Harry/Louis). Speaking of Terran writing trans Harry, this one covers all the ins and outs of her surgical transition, how she recovers, and how she and the people around her deal with puberty no. 2.

#fic rec #gender #harry styles #whew it's a long one!!

115 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

Text

Askplosion #12 4/4:

(I would like to state for future reference that, while I do not mind long/multi-part asks, if you’d like to engage in actual discussion with me over a non-Miraculous topic, my DMs - Tumblr Messenger - should be open; I lost pieces of three multi-part asks this time just due to Tumblr not sending the remaining part(s) so yeah, I just wanted to make that clear)

(like, this askplosion ended up being super long because of this section and that’s not really what I want to have going on since I’m supposed to be a primarily Miraculous blog; I don’t want to have to stop answering non-Miraculous related asks but I might have to if this keeps up:)

.:New non-Miraculous Asks:.

Anonymous said:

What are your experiences with some really rude anons?

It’s partly my fault when it happens. Like I’ve said before, I’m an aspie, and part of what that means is I struggle to understand situations emotionally. I can come off as insensitive or read the mood wrong which often leads to people misunderstanding my intentions or where I’m coming from.

More often than not, what I’m saying will make 100% sense to me but not the person/people reading it. I also stick a lot more firmly to my opinions than I should because people tell me I fold too easily, and I come off as more egotistical than I actually am to cover up my low self-esteem lol.

So yeah, can’t think of any experience in particular but sometimes it might be my fault? At least I suspect that it is?

Anonymous said:

“Killed by kindness” makes me think of an assassin who kills people by giving hugs and compliments to people and the occasion gift that isn’t tampered until thre target does like Conrad Birdie making women swoon into fainting by singing.

omg

yes

Anonymous said:

You're watching Yashahime right now? rip

MARINETTE TAKE 2 MOROHA DESERVES BETTER

SETSUNA HAS SO LITTLE REASON TO HANG OUT WITH THE OTHER TWO GIRLS

IF I SEE ANOTHER DEUS EX TOWA I’M GONNA KICK SOMETHING

(so yes, I’m watching Yashahime)

Anonymous said:

Since someone recommended Remarried Empress, I would like to recommend my own webcomic: Princess Love-Pon! It's about a young girl named Lia Sagamore who becomes the titular magical girl and purifies people's hearts when they're tainted by the Dark Queen! It's really cool due to its diversity, the main character is black and her best friend is Afro-Latina, the villain and her prince son are also black, and there's a Japanese girl, a black guy, and an Indian girl. Plus, loads of pink and frills!

Thank you very much, though I actually don’t take recommendations, even from close friends. The Remarried Empress anon wasn’t a recommendation; they were more pointing something out to me and then I went to confirm.

Anonymous said:

Unrelated to MLB: Which Pokémon are your favourites?

I used a “Favorite Pokemon Picker” because I prefer going by generations to pick favorites and that was the easiest way of going about it. I struggle picking super favorites so here’s what I got form each generation! (my only rule was “one Pokemon per evolution line” with an exception of the Eevee line since they’re different types, and also Alolan/Galarian forms)

(note: the blue-patterned Vivillon is my favorite and I honestly don’t like Charizard normally but the Y version actually slims him down and gives him the wings I feel he should have; it’s an improvement of the design so it gets my seal of approval, I don’t like the X version at all)

(lol I was looking through this after I was done and find it really funny how it’s like, 50% cute things and then the other 50% is just EDGY, there’s very little in-between with me I guess)

Anonymous said:

Bridgerton the Series: Yay or nay? Sorry if you haven’t seen it or it’s not your thing. I was just curious.

Never seen it, though when I brought up to someone, they didn’t recommend it to me at all ahaha.

Anonymous said:

I previously kept having this argument about The Bechdel Test with someone. She keeps insisting that the test is invalid because there's nothing wrong with talking about men and that it was created for lesbians only, and not for feminists, with the implication that being a lesbian somehow means that you dislike men or want them gone. And she also thinks the test is about NEVER talking about men, rather than merely occasionally talking about other things. I keep telling her otherwise, but...

jdfhkgdfhjgdfg “lesbians only”

now all I can imagine is “lesbians only” sections at restaurants and such

Anonymous said:

Have you ever played Akinator, with or without the Miraculous Ladybug characters? Because I played it with Ochaco from MHA and Marinette and he guessed them within a second(can your character control gravity? Is your character a protagonist?). I even played it with myself as the "character" and he guessed "your shadow" lol. How about you?

I’ve played Akinator before but I don’t specifically remember what I was searching for lol.

Anonymous said:

The cast for the newest Power Rangers series got revealed, and I hate that as soon as I saw the Pink Ranger's bio mentioned she was an internet journalist, I thought of Alya. I really hope she doesn't have the same problems as Alya in the series proper.

fhgdfkgd journalists have been ruined for us forever

Anonymous said:

Have you noticed that in many shows, especially shonen shows, people tend to hate the most "feminine" female character? Like, in Naruto it was Sakura, in Death Note it was Misa, in My Hero Academia it was Ochaco(although a lot of people like her so I'm not so sure about that last one?). The most hated character in one too many a shonen is almost always the "girliest" of the characters. They're always claimed to be useless or reliant on a man. And this is within the fandom who should know better!

It probably didn’t help with Sakura that she was decked out in pink hair; that’s an instant girl label for you (or lesbian label, depends on the person :P).

I don’t think I’ve been in enough fandoms to have such an experience but I definitely see where you’re coming from.

Anonymous said:

Rewatching Chat Blanc and Here To Help from Star vs. and hearing Adrien/Marco tell Marinette/Star that they always liked the girls from the beginning makes me so pissed. It's not that I don't ship Starco(I do! But I also like MarcoxJanna), although I don't ship the love square, but I'm so annoyed with writers finding the need to make the audience "know" that the main ship's characters "always" liked each other, as if that makes their love for each other more true, even if it's obvious they had other crushes? Like, what happened to Kagami Tsurugi? Jackie-Lynn Thomas?

News flash: Teenagers are allowed to have crushes on multiple other people before they find "the One". It doesn't mean their love for that "One" is any less valid. And if you still want to pull the "they always liked each other since they first met", at least make it actually TRUE!!! Don't have them have crushes on other people before moving on to the "official" crush and be all like "Oh, by the way, I liked you from the start," when it's dead obvious they didn't. You're doing a disservice to the romantic "false" leads.

I'm willing to forgive Star's crush on Oskar and Tom since she's not the one claiming she always liked Marco(even though she fell in love with him LONG before he fell in love with her, which is a nice turn of events), although her "love" for Oskar was merely an infatuation at most and I personally don't see why it was needed. Why don't they just say that their old crush didn't do it for them???

UGH, I remember watching that show and being so annoyed because I really liked Marco and Jackie and wanted them to be a thing but I knew that they’d pull Starco in the end because of course they would.

It also totally makes it seem as if love is the most powerful relationship there is (aros would like a word), which is so bizarre when there are so many “power of friendship” tropes. Like, a male and female lead have to get together because their relationship is the strongest.

The love square would hold so much more meaning to me without this love drama nonsense. It’s tiring.

Anonymous said:

Have you seen Yuki Yuna Is a Hero? If so, then what are your thoughts on it? I was thinking of watching it but it seems to be another "taking away the empowerment of the magical girl genre by making the girls suffer instead" type story. I read about it on TV Tropes and apparently it's a deconstruction that takes after Madoka Magica which already puts a bad taste in my mouth, but then I got to the examples and they're basically about how girls who get magical powers lose their body parts one by one and that the reason only girls can be heroes is because "young girls have always been sacrifices".

Not to mention it was written by a man and aimed towards a seinen(adult men ages 17-35) demographic, making it torture porn for adult men. Also, both the laconic page for Yuki Yuna and Madoka Magica say "Being a magical girl sucks."(though for Yuki Yuna it adds "Unless you have the power of friendship.") and to be honest that kills any desire in me to watch the show. Should I give it a chance?

Oof.

Yeah, after bringing it up to a friend of mine, it was instantly recommended of me not to watch it, so I’d say, “no.”

Anonymous said:

Let's make one thing perfectly clear. I, love, love, LOVE Sailor Moon. And I love the transformations, too. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's that their outfits all look pretty much the same but with different colors/different lengths of gloves and shoes and stuff like that, and that they all have the exact same body type save for the one fat girl who's made to look bad. I don't like Madoka Magica, but at least they all had unique/different costumes(but they still have similar bodies).

We’re not allowed diversity here. Take your different body types to a show that cares; we’re all about femininity here and how girls can be beautiful and powerful no matter wha--oh wait...

Yeah, I don’t care for the design in Sailor Moon, but that’s because skirts don’t interest me design-wise unless it’s really unique/interesting.

(note that there’s a lot of talk about tomboys, sexism, and TV tropes and such below, and then Madoka Magica after that; that’s basically the rest of this askplosion:)

Anonymous said:

I just saw the thumbnail for a video called "Why You Should Watch Princess Tutu(Yes, I Know The Name Is Stupid)". Umm, why is it stupid exactly? Because it's "girly"? What is with people thinking that in order for a girly show to be good they have to first separate the show from its girliness in order to enjoy it? It's like how men will say a show is good despite it being girly, or that since it's good it's no longer girly. Nobody does this for boy shows, because boy things are "never" stupid.

Princess = girly thing

Tutu = girly thing

girly things = bad

That’s the formula~ They should’ve called it something edgier and manly so that more people would be interested.

Anonymous said:

I'm wary of any woman or girl who says, "I'm a girl, but I'd rather read books about guys" or "I'm a female writer but I mostly write stories about male characters". I feel like those women are the "not like other girls/one of the guys" type who suffer from internalized misogyny and don't like female characters. I also feel like they're the type to not care about female representation, because in their minds, girls shouldn't care about female role models. We can enjoy males just as much! I do!

To be fair, they might also just be writing about shirtless men doing “handsome” things. ;P

But nah, I see your point. Me personally, I try to find a balance of writing both, but I do think there can be bias.

Anonymous said:

Do you think it's okay to like a ship but acknowledge that it wouldn't be safe or healthy or condonable in real life? Because I was just thinking of how a lot of people like some really "toxic" ships like Veronica/JD in Heathers, Yuno/Yukki in Future Diary, Madoka/Homura in Madoka Magica(although some people don't like it because of its toxicity/like it but don't realize it's toxic), almost any villain/hero ship, the list goes on. But they're aware of the fact that it's not a good standard for healthy relationships in real life.

An alternative I've seen is people having a crush on "dangerous" characters like JD and Yuno, or Karma from Assassination Classroom(there's not a single video on YouTube with him in it that DOESN'T have comments full of people saying they want Karma to father their children), but still being aware of the fact that the character is a) not real and b) wouldn't be a good partner if they were real(and that's assuming they even want to be with you. But sometimes there's a good reason for falling in love with a "toxic/dangerous" character.

Take Monika from Doki Doki Literature Club! She's obsessed with the player(not the player CHARACTER, the flesh and blood player themselves) to the point of killing off all the other girls and "trapping" you in a room with her where she talks endlessly about lots of things. But she's actually a lonely girl who's driven insane by the fact that nothing around her is real. She latches on to you because you're the only other person who's real and sapient and has got a mind of their own. You're literally her outlet to the outside world.

She's personally my favorite character in the game due to her actually being a more fleshed out, sympathetic(and not in the idealized "moemoe" way), and realistic take on the Yandere archetype(which, like many moe archetypes, is kinda misogynistic in nature in that it reinforces submissiveness; it's basically animes version of "woman scorned".). So it makes sense that people would sympathize with her and want her to become real, because all she's ever wanted was to be real and to talk to real people. Especially since she really did care about her friends and even returned them back to life because she saved their backup files, taking herself out of the picture.

I read a few "Monika becomes real and lives with you" fanfictions where she's really sweet and not at all crazy and cares for you a lot, and it's never felt the same as all those other "Yandere/psycho lives with you and is your girl/boyfriend" type stories precisely because those stories tend to just glorify possessive partners that kill your loved ones, drive your family members to commit suicide, and tear up your stuffed animals and dollies for the sake of it, rather than go into why they're so crazy for you, and often reinforce Stockholm Syndrome.

Plus, those "things" she talks about in the empty room? They're actually quite smart and make you think about the world for a bit. Not many "crazy" type characters actually get that. They're all about how "I'll slice your boyfriend open with an axe if you don't date me wa ha ha", and even if they're not, it's all the fandom will focus on, to the point of ignoring any and all other aspects to their character. Because that "crazy in love" aspect is the most appealing part of them. Maybe it's due to forbidden fruit/bad boy(or girl) appeal? Who knows? But I'm starting to wonder if it's still as bad if people recognize the problematic aspects of "crazy in love" characters or "dysfunctional" relationships.

Because if they recognize it's not real and don't really want it for themselves, then it's probably not much of a problem. But if they just go on wanting it to be real and never take a step back and go "wait a minute, this isn't real love; they're only together because he latches onto the first girl to show him any kindness and affection and she's a doormat who doesn't want something bad to happen if she leaves him", then that's bad.

Obviously it's not as bad as being in love with literal stalkers, killers, and rapists in real life(which is an actual thing, believe it or not, it's called hybristophilia), because fictional characters will never be real. Karma Akabane will never be real. Yuno Gasai will never be real. JD will never be real. But loving fictional characters who do those things and not realizing the problem with it may cause people to seek out real criminals, so it's best to separate fiction from reality.

I can’t help judging a little internally, but yeah, I think people can ship whatever as long as it has that “not in real life” scenario going for it. It’s ultimately fiction, so just because I don’t like it and/or think that it’s bad doesn’t mean other people can’t ship it.

Anonymous said:

I'm getting tired of all the racists on TV Tropes getting upset whenever a trope has a Japanese name. Whether it's Tsundere, Yandere, Meganekko, Genki Girl, Bokukko, or any Japanese anime name, people will complain that the trope exists beyond anime so it shouldn't have a "cute anime name", and that it should instead just be given a broader(read: English) name with the same meaning. Or that the site is too obsessed with anime. I'm just sick of people saying that anime names are bad.

The other thing is that we don’t actually have English words for certain things? I mean, the whole reason we say, “tsundere,” is because it says everything in one word. It’s easy.

(Also, people are aware the the English language isn’t some unique thing that takes no inspiration from other languages, right? It’s a mix of things, so accept that other languages exist because we literally wouldn’t have English without them.)

Anonymous said:

Have you seen the TV Tropes reviews for "My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic"? Holy crap, they are all a perfect example of the "Real Women Don't Wear Dresses" phenomenon that I have mentioned earlier and is so fucking present on this site. While some reviews praise the show for showing that "it's okay to be strong AND girly"(such as Hadles' review, which was really splendid), and that girl shows are no less good, others either insult the show by calling it "girly, saccharine, and stupid" as if "girly" is synonymous with anything bad about a show, or feel the need to distance it from its girliness in order to praise it as if a show can't be good if it's also girly.

Some people were saying things like "the show might seem girly at first, but it's actually a good, brilliant show with intricate plot twists, well-developed characters, and even some scary moments" and "the characters aren't just shallow girly-girls, they have depth!" So what, girliness is mutually exclusive to anything of value? One person even said that the Girl-Show Ghetto was the reason they couldn't get into the show or respect it. Just...wow.

And one review even said "Rarity's pretty tough for a girly girl!" Excuse me? Tough FOR a girly girl? So being a girly girl somehow automatically disqualifies you from being tough? Like "yeah, she's tough despite being a girly girl! Because girly girls aren't supposed to be tough."

It reminds me of the phrase "you're pretty for a black girl", which, while it's never been said to ME, I have heard other people complain about. It's sick and it hurts, just like this. And the few people who didn't say things like that still said that they couldn't get into the show at first because it looked "girly and vapid", before changing their minds and thinking that the show either proved their biases about girly shows wrong, no longer think it's girly since girly shows "can't" be good, or like it "despite" it's girliness.

And there were 70 reviews in all. 70 reviews full of this misogynistic "girly is bad" shit. So in conclusion nearly all the reviews on TV Tropes for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic were along the lines of one of three things. 1) "This show is girly so I looked past it because girly shows are dumb." 2) "This show is good despite being girly/the characters are good despite being girly." and 3) "This show is not girly to me at all because it is well-written and captivating and girly shows aren't capable of such things."

Granted, some people there were able and willing to call out those who judged the show badly for being girly(or gave it the "not like other girls" treatment, but in show form), as well as people warning other potential viewers to get rid of any potential bias they may have against it due to it being girly. But there were still more people insulting its girliness as a reason they think it sucks or denying its girliness to justify their liking of it than the other way around.

I would've accepted it in the form of "If you think this show is bad because of its inherent girliness, then you are wrong!" or "This show is proof that a show being girly or aimed at girls doesn't and shouldn't take away from its value, as people seem to believe." or "A girl can be girly and be a strong female character.", but no, instead I got shit like this. It's especially insulting when TV Tropes is a site that devotes itself in part to critiquing sexist tropes found in media, only to turn right around and reinforce them.

I don’t read TV Tropes that frequently, so I fortunately missed out on all of these complete idiots who associate girly products with being bad.

(that “pretty for a black girl” comment makes me hate all aspects of “expectations of beauty” and it’s like--plz let these die)

I could maybe see an argument for criticizing a girls show for being “saccharine” if it were like, “girls’ shows written by men who clearly don’t know how to write girls are usually bad,” because then it’s not a criticism of girls’ shows exactly but rather who keeps being put in charge of writing them.

Anonymous said:

I get so annoyed when people get upset when confronted with the matter of female representation with "what's so wrong with one show having a male protagonist or mostly men and one/a few women? Why do we have to include women in everything?" These people clearly do not understand that one show doing it is one thing, but when multiple shows do it, it's an obvious problem. It's even worse when they turn around and diss shows with largely female casts for "not having enough men".

And as for people getting upset that "every show has to include women/come with a checkbox nowadays", as if it's bad to include women in your story...look around. Women make up 50% of the population. They're literally everywhere. What reason do you have to not include a substantial amount of women?

These people act like male is the default and women are a last resort. They see no problem with men dominating a cast because it's justified(despite that not reflecting real life), and yet having female characters, or, hell, a female-dominated cast(I know they also don't reflect real life, but there are still female-dominated spaces; most colleges are 2/3 female) is "unrealistic" trying to fulfill a quota, or a straw feminist agenda, as if characters can't be female for their own sake. You shouldn't have to be forced include women because their presence should be a given.

How many stories nowadays take place in the war front in Viking times or whatever? A lot of men just don't want to include female characters or see them represented(well) in media because those who are overrepresented tend to want to stay that way. They likely also have insecurities about their masculinity and are worried about female characters flooding their shows with estrogen and ruining the shows they love, because they can't relate to female characters or enjoy shows about them without negating their girliness(ie. This show seems girly, but it's actually good), since they're ashamed to associate themselves with anything feminine due to looking down on women or seeing them as bad.

Plus they want to be the center of everything so the second a show is about mostly women they get upset and claim it's "sexist against men" because it's not about them. Hence why bronies(bless their souls) are made fun of for the grave sin of enjoying a female-centric show with a female protagonist and largely female characters. Granted, there are some freaky fans, but there's still some sexism at play here.

This reminds me of a post I saw about a boy who actually looked up to female characters because you can pick a role model who doesn’t fit your gender. Crazy concept, I know. ;P

And yeah, that’s how it goes with equality. People who are best/most represented don’t want equality because they think it means less for them and they don’t want that, like a child who doesn’t want to share their cookies with everyone else.

Anonymous said:

I love TV Tropes, but if there's one problem I have with it, it's how often it associates femininity with weakness. The "Masculine Girl, Feminine Boy" trope is a good example of this, but the worst offender in my opinion is the Girly Girl With a Tomboy Streak, as most of the examples there are simply of girls who are strong-willed or fierce or can fight. Because you know, those traits are male. It's bad because there are ALREADY tropes for girly girls who can fight, Girly Bruiser and Lady of War (which TV Tropes even goes out of its way to SAY shouldn't be counted as a "Tomboy Streak" and yet does stuff like this), but it's also bad because ANY girly girl with these qualities, no matter how feminine they are otherwise, will be seen by TV Tropes as having to be at least somewhat tomboyish(read: masculine) in order to have those traits. Because regular girly girls are just weak and fragile and only want to be housewives.

It's even worse when you realize that much of these characters are created with the exact purpose of subverting the stereotype that girliness equals weak, and instead present a new and more empowering form of femininity: that femininity is strong and DOES NOT equal being a passive sex tool for men's pleasure. They're MEANT to show that being a tomboy is not the only way to be strong, and TV Tropes acknowledges that! But then they also go and claim these characters have "Tomboy Streaks" thus undermining the positive message by insinuating that you have to be tomboyish to be strong and that even girly girls have to have some level of masculinity to be deemed respectable and equal human beings, plus manipulating many impressionable folks into thinking strength and bravery is automatically tomboyish.

Worse yet, they often put a character here because "she's a big eater" or "she burps/farts a lot". Gee, I didn't know women had bodily functions? I didn't know women had digestive systems? So basically any time a girl shows that she is a human being and not a pretty, passive doll to be idealized, she is acting like a man. Because only men are fully-fledged human beings. Even outside of that, look at basically any masculinity-femininity contrast trope(Tomboy and Girly Girl, Sensitive Guy and Manly Man, Masculine Girl Feminine Boy, etc.). The "masculine" character will often be described as dominant, assertive, or outspoken, and the "feminine" character will often be called weak-willed, passive, emotional, and timid. It's fucking sickening.

The Tomboy With A Girly Streak trope is similar to its inverse in that a tomboyish girl will often be placed under this trope with their proclaimed "girly" streak being that she's tender or cries a lot or is soft spoken/a doormat. Because being girly is about not taking up too much space, not having any ambition or aspiration, and overall being a weak and shallow waste of space. For a site that claims to dismantle such sexist misconceptions, it sure does reinforce them just as much.

I almost want to stop using TV Tropes based on that and many other reasons, but it's a genuinely informative site that at least tries to avoid these stereotypes(plus it's edited by more than one person), it just doesn't do enough. For example, they made an awkward claim once that women can't fight while on their periods, and even have an Improbably Female Cast trope, as if it's abnormal that a cast could consist of mostly women and demands an explanation. To them, femininity=inferior.

And then in comes the “anti-girl tomboy” characters who basically do everything “girls don’t do;” glares at things like make-up and such, rolls eyes at the subject of “girl talk” or “romance,” drinks anything carbonated and spreads their legs wide open, etcetera.

Guys really don’t get the same version, at least not that I’m aware of? Like, at best, they don’t participate in “guy things” but that’s about it.

Having characters acknowledge it just makes everything more blatant, like if a woman comes by and the guys have to assure “DON’T WORRY, SHE’S LIKE ONE OF THE GUYS.”

It’s like a woman can only hang out and engage in “guy talk/time” (the concept of which I hate but that’s besides the point) if they can crush a beer can against their forehead.

Anonymous said:

OMG TV Tropes called Cirno the Ice Fairy from Touhou a "tomboy"? Why? Because she's boisterous and outspoken and not a "shy girly-girl" like Daiyousei! TV Tropes clearly believes that any girl or woman who is more than just a pretty face(which ALL women are, by the way), who takes up space, who has a dynamic personality and isn't just a weeping wallflower(which I'm not saying Daiyousei is) is a tomboy. Because she's acting like a man that way. Ugh, so over TV Tropes and their sexism.

And all the girls in Touhou(including Cirno) wear big frilly dresses anyway so it doesn't really make sense to see ANY of them as tomboys. But no, apparently any girl who is rowdy or tough or is active and not passive is a tomboy. You gotta be a tomboy to have attitude. You can tell they think so because they often say things like "strong, but still feminine" as if those things are opposites. They even described femininity as "weak and susceptible, vain and superficial". Like, ugh, kill me now.

I legitimately want to see a bullet point list here of what qualifies as a “tomboy.” Like, what, anyone who does one thing that isn’t “girly”?

Can we just throw out all of these terms; not even replace them, just throw them out?

(the below ask is incomplete - the first part is missing - but the asker clarified after I asked them, so clarification is below:)

Anonymous said:

Tropes is because I'm working on a story and I hope when it becomes famous that TV Tropes will write about it, but as it stands, I'm beginning to wonder that TV Tropes undermines most stories or plots to do with women one way or another. I mean, they constantly create tropes with the intent of calling out inherent biases, yet reinforce those biases themselves.

For example, they have a trope called Men Are Generic, Women Are Special, which points out the bias of male being the default, and yet on almost every other page on the wiki describing a trope, the default character will be a "he"(especially if it's a character trope), and whenever they mention "The Hero" or "The Big Bad" it's always a he unless it needs to be female(like if the heroine is in a romance story, or if the villain is a seductress). Female characters at best, can hope to be "The Heart" or "The Chick" of the group(which is often used in a demeaning way).

They even have a trope called "Improbably Female Cast" in which they point out all the instances of a story's setting having an "over-abundance" of women or girls with no men in sight, and claim that such stories have majority female characters when it is "unusual" "unlikely" or "lacks justification". Someone even suggested that the trope should be called "Where Are All The Men?" as if there's something inherently weird or wrong when a story is dominated by female characters, and like the story is in dire need of men, as if only men can be protagonists.

Even if the story has a justifiable reason for having mostly women, the fact that the writer made that choice at all is somehow deserving of mention. The mere fact that there's no "Improbably Male Cast" trope shows where the site's biases lay. They don't see anything wrong with a show being dominated by men with little to no female representation(ex. Death Note), and yet a show dominated by women(ex. MLPFIM) is somehow an anomaly and demands an explanation(even if the story does provide a reason for it, TV Tropes will still list it and presume it "improbable", as if to say "I mean, yeah, but there's no reason why you couldn't just make them mEn instead", as if writers who have mostly female characters are going out of their way to steer away from the "default" males.

In fact, they even admit that "Men Are Generic, Women Are Special" is their reason for having such a trope, but not the inverse. They even say that it's not the trope if the show revolves around a group of girlfriends with no indication of the gender ratio in the wider setting. So any time the females outnumber the males a story it's instantly labeled "improbable" because there's NO WAY any setting AT ALL could have more females than males. That's improbable! You see, this is why when women are 1/3 of the people in a given space men perceive it as "majority female" because they're uncomfortable with women having more of a presence than men.

We'll never have true equality if shows with majority female casts continue to be scrutinized under a microscope and assumed to be of inferior, lesser quality, just because there's no male characters around and it's women who are driving the plot. My problem isn't that they have a trope for majority female casts, it COULD be a testament to gender equality(ie., "there used to not be a lot of shows revolving around women, but now they're becoming increasingly common and well-known), but it's that they single out such stories as "unlikely" and thus discredit them.

And worse yet, they refuse to change the name, because they don't see a problem with it. So now every single show that doesn't have an equal number of males and females or more males than females is going to be called "improbable" by TV Tropes, because there's something(bad) to be said about shows that choose to make most of their characters women. Death Note and Naruto can slide by the radar of having loads of men, but Madoka Magica and Touhou are "improbable"? Because they have loads of women?

the clarification:

Anonymous said:

I started out complaining about how TV Tropes says that boys will watch Star Vs. The Forces of Evil only because of Marco(who's great, but it comes off like boys can only relate to boy characters) and that the show only looks girly but has a deep complex plot with scary moments(as if a show can't be dark and complex and still be girly; girly=shallow, watered down fluff), hence my complaint about TV Tropes undermining girly shows or anything "girly".

Yup, exactly like I said.

Good stuff in “girly” things is the exception. Good stuff in “manly” things is expected.

Which is funny when you consider stuff like “edgy” reboots of things. Like, Disney remakes their original movies and that usually means making them worse (like in Beauty and the Beast - god I hate that remake - where the objects are going to become complete objects when the last petal falls even though the enchantress is explicitly a good person and it comes off as super cruel and unnecessary), but that seems to just be its own breed of bad I guess.

Then there are terms like “chick flicks” and “soap operas” which are usually women-oriented and tend to be considered dumb/over-dramatic.

You know, not like MEN shows with their sexualization of women, guns and MEN things.

Anonymous said:

Remember what I said about TV Tropes being sexist? Well, they also have a trope called "Girly Run". Like, that's literally the name. Girly. Run. Thankfully the first example(which is under advertising due to the forms of media being in alphabetical order) is an aversion from the blessed Like A Girl campaign, but...just reading the page lets the casual-yet-bold-faced sexism speak for itself.

why can’t things just be like the Sims where characters can wear whatever the hell they want and have any personality without any judgment or criticism from other Sims?

(more Madoka Magica talk - and ONLY Madoka Magica talk - below because I’ve unleashed a monster apparently:)

Anonymous said:

I know you don't like Frozen but I saw a theory somewhere that Elsa's powers came from making a contract with Kyubey and her wish was to impress her sister and anyway I can't stop rolling my eyes. This isn't(just) because of my distaste for Madoka Magica compared to my love for Frozen, but if Elsa's a Puella Magi then why didn't she become a witch long ago? How did she make it to adulthood? How did she become emotionally stable? And why do her powers have to come from a negative source?

I think it might just be people looking for excuses to do their crossover fanfiction which--yeah, I’m not crazy about that.

Anonymous said:

Did you know that Cristina Vee voiced Homura Akemi in the English Dub? It's very noticeable, especially during the Cake Song, where I could've sworn she sounds exactly like Marinette. By the way, I'm still not sure what the hell was going on in that song. Could you please explain it to me(if you know)?

Nooooo don’t make me think of Homura when I think of Marinette!! fjkdgjnfdg

lol but seriously, I think the Cake Song is just meant to be one of those “weird but meant to be dEeP” things that shows do sometimes to be cool (not a criticism technically; depends on how it’s used).

I think the cake is the labyrinth and Homura saying that she’s the pumpkin makes her the odd one out since pumpkins are associated with scares and halloween, so it’s “foreshadowing” her being the witch. The things that they say they are... they’re like--ingredients for a meal, but not a cake, so the the cake is the labyrinth and they’re the things that would go inside it.

Homura and Madoka are the only ones who really get descriptions to go with them. Homura says that she’s “full of seeds” (despair?) and Madoka implies that it’ll bring sweet dreams once she’s sliced (which is either referring to the godly freedom given to magical girls before they turn into witches, or foreshadowing Madoka being “split” after Homura stops Madoka from purifying her, leading to Homura’s “sweet dream” of what it’s like when everything is “normal” after her reality twisting).

Anonymous said:

May I ask what you don't like about Kyoko's character? Is it because she was the stereotypical "jerk with a heart of gold"? Or because the writer made her flip from hating Sayaka and wanting her dead to suddenly dying for Sayaka even though she barely knows her compared to Madoka(because the writer doesn't understand how girls' relationships work)? For me it was a mixture of both(though I still don't mind KyoSaya!), but I still liked her enough, she just felt a tad stereotypical. Your thoughts?

It’s both. I just don’t like characters like her at all and the runtime of Madoka Magica can’t maintain all of these characters, “developing” them, and then killing them off. I don’t even have any time to get attached to them because they’re dead within a matter of a few episodes.

And it’s always like, “okay here’s this character’s backstory to make you feel emotionally attached--HA NOW THEY’RE DEAD. SEE??? WE TOTALLY GOT YOU.”

Like, no, you didn’t. I didn’t even have time to care about THEM, much less their actual death.

Anonymous said:

What about the girls in Madoka Magica? Do you think they're strong female characters? Now, obviously the show is not feminist, since it misses the whole point of Magical Girl, which is to empower girls and show them that girls can be powerful and feminine and can find strength in solidarity with each other by instead making them suffer and fight each other and have their power come from their emotions, which are exploited and turned against them because women can't be powerful, but still...

It’s the same way I feel about Marinette; there are some who I want to say are strong characters, but the writing is ready to just kill them off at any time and bully them for essentially having emotions.

Basically, imagine a male writer hands you a character sheet and is like, “AW YEAH CHECK OUT THIS sTrOng FEMALE CHARACTER I WROTE.”

Like, even if they were right, their ego and obnoxiousness about the whole thing, along with what they actually do to said character, makes you not want to give them any credit for it.

Anonymous said:

How do you think Puella Magi Madoka Magica would be different if they had magical boys as well(which can mean either gender-bending canon magical girls or introducing original magical boys)? Do you think the show would be better? Worse? Or would it be just about the same?

Personally I feel like having magical boys would be good and bad; good because there would be no more of the “teenage girls are hysterical” crap and it wouldn’t just be girls suffering because they can’t handle power, and bad because it would still be problematic(for stereotyping all teens as over emotional and deserving to be taken advantage of by the Incubators, and it would still be about kids suffering in a genre meant to empower girls, having some of them be boys wouldn’t help that much).

I also feel like Gen Urobuchi would still make the girls suffer more and have them be more emotionally and mentally unstable. Holy crap it feels like he read up on Aristotle’s views on women while making this show.

It would at least be more balanced I guess? Like, teenage years are a fragile time, so it would make sense for both girls and boys to be taken advantage of. I still wouldn’t like it but it would be nice to point out, “there are emotional boys as well as emotional girls.”

Anonymous said:

Literally all the problems with Treatment of Marinette, Chat's Entitlement(TM), and the sheer sexism in general(ex. all the teenage girls and even women villains being catty and bitchy, while the male villains are cool, suave, and calculating; female villains being irredeemable scum while male villains are "not as bad as they seem", etc.) could all be solved if the show just got some more female writers! You know a show isn't feminist like people claim if none of the writers are women.

That's what I love about Friendship is Magic; the show is written and directed by a woman and actually has a variety of both male and female writers! Plus, Lauren Faust explicitly identifies as a feminist and claims her works are meant to empower women and show them that there's no wrong way to be a girl. And the show reflects that! There's no "token girl" who checks all the boxes; the females have realistic flaws, diverse personalities, and let's not forget ARE THE HEROES!!! Not to mention that the cast is actually PREDOMINANTLY FEMALE. Do people have any idea how refreshing that is?!

And that's why whenever people claim that shows like Madoka Magica are feminist when it's written by men for men while also dismissing actually feminist shows written by women for women as "sexist" or "demeaning", I cringe inside. It's not just what the show looks like, it's what the people behind it say.

And Gen Urobuchi is not a feminist. At all. Just listen to the things he says about the girls, that they're terrorists who are full of hubris and destined to be alone, and that actual magical girl shows weren't his inspiration beyond the show's cosmetics, he just based it off of porn games. He only watched those shows after making Madoka Magica and admitted they were weird to him. Well, maybe they wouldn't be weird if you actually used them as inspiration! Why are you even making magical girl? So basically he admitted that all the suffering the girls go through is because it's his fetish.

I knew I wasn't imagining things when I saw all those weird shots and angles(ex. zooming in on Sayaka's thighs and breasts when she collapses to the floor, Madoka gripping the bed sheets between her legs when agitated, zooming in on Kyoko's ass when she takes her phone out of her shorts' back pocket, it's all for cheap titillation). And yet people keep saying the show is devoid of male gaze and sexism and why? Because apparently men know how to represent women better than women themselves.

you said “Madoka gripping the bed sheets between her thighs” and it gave me an immediate flashback, I hate it

I find that it’s a similar thing with gay anime/manga; I’m more likely to trust a F/F story if it’s written by a woman since they’re less likely to sexualize everything.

Anonymous said:

Homura in Puella Magi Madoka Magica: But Madoka, what's going to happen to you? You'll end up all alone here forever! You'll never be able to see your friends and family! Homura in Rebellion: Haha, screw Madoka's friends and family! Only I am worthy of Madoka's love! That girl belongs to me! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!(I'm sorry for the over exaggeration, but this is how it felt for me.)

Apparently, it was better for Madoka to just have all of her memories and powers yoinked away.

Sayaka is Madoka’s right hand girl so idk why Homura has this idea that she needs to sAvE Madoka. The fact that this whole thing comes out of a misunderstanding (because Madoka doesn’t have her memories) is so irritating.

Anonymous said:

I actually love Madoka Magica, but I completely agree with you on the hysterical women thing. Why couldn’t they just have... both magical girls and magical boys? Like, just mention that magical boys are a thing? They don’t even have to change anything but that, they don’t even really have to show it, just be like “yeah there’s magical boys too but that’s not really what this story is about, it’s about our characters we have here”. I don’t know, feels like that would have at least helped stuff.

Yeah, they don’t have to bother having the magical boys around. Just to know they exist would be enough. I mean, the fact that the focus is on them would still be bothersome (they’d probably do a thing where each girl represents a different emotion that is easily manipulated/easy to control), but it’d be something.

Anonymous said:

One thing that weirds me out when people are talking about Madoka Magica is when people refer to the characters as "little girls". Like, excuse me? They are not "little girls". They are teenagers! All of them are at least 14 years old! I hate when people call them "little", it's just so condescending and infantilizing, especially when the show does enough of that to them already. After all, no one makes that mistake with the heroines of Lucky Star and Hidamari Sketch(who are also drawn by Aoki)!

I feel like it’s the equivalent of when people call women “girls,” y’know? Sort of a “treating females as younger than they really are,” which is probably what gives guys the feeling that they have control.

For a gender that claims to be so dominant, certain ones sure have to delude themselves a lot to make themselves feel better.

Anonymous said:

I was thinking about what you said about Puella Magi Madoka Magica passing the Bechdel Test, and if it counts if there's barely any men to talk about. And while I do agree that it counts, I also feel that it doesn't really matter much in shows such as Madoka. This isn't even about feminism, this is about the fact that if a show has next to no men in it at all then it's pretty much a given that they won't talk about them since it would be impractical to talk about something that doesn't exist.

So because of that, I think there should either be an alternative test which only applies to shows that have a significant or equal number of male characters and yet the ladies still pass the test(making it feel more "real" since the option to talk about men is there), or the test should be rewritten entirely so that it only applies to shows in which the cast is either equally gender-split, or has a majority male cast/significant amount of males even if the females still outnumber them.

Reminds me of how, on TV Tropes, someone suggested that there should be a "Weak" and "Strong" Bechdel Test, where "Weak" refers to the women talking about something other than men because it is literally what's relevant at the moment(such as two female police officers discussing how to catch a female killer), thus applying the Bechdel Test there seems semi-void, while "Strong" is when they could talk about men but choose not to(ie. two female students talking about their grades during lunch).

And just to clarify about the "Strong" one, when I say they could talk about men but choose not to, this isn't to imply that female characters should talk about men, or that something's wrong with them for not talking about men, just that there's nothing stopping them from doing so, but they choose to talk about something unrelated to men. I think this strategy is much better than the test we have because it makes conversations between female characters seem more real since they're discussing things other than men of their own volition, rather than the non-male-centered talk being because they have to talk about it in-universe. I say that because The Bechdel Test serves to show that women's lives don't and shouldn't revolve around men, and they can talk about other things if they want to, but if the conversation is because they have to(like the example I gave), that gives sexists the opportunity to go "Yeah, well, they're only talking about it because it's their job!"

But if the female characters talk about things other than men of their own free will(as in, when the option is still there), then it shows that women really do have their own free will to talk about their own things and that there is NO REASON to not pass the Bechdel Test in today's day and age(I keep hearing people claim the test is stupid and doesn't matter, but then it should be easy to pass). "Oh, but if they had the choice, they would talk about men." No, because men don't sit around and talk about the women in their lives all day so why should women talk about the men in their lives all day? And to the people saying these types of tests are getting in the way of their "creativity", well, now that we know that you think female representation is stupid and something you have to be forced to do, we don't have to listen to a word you say. ;)

I like the idea of adjusting the Bechdel Test for other circumstances and expanding it as such!

You could also extend it to things like sexualization, because--I mean, having two female characters who talk to each other probably doesn’t mean much if they’re half-dressed or the writer wanted to make them bisexual for “The Fanservice.”

Anonymous said:

To be honest deconstructions of Magical Girl confuse me. There are some good ones out there(such as Princess Tutu and Revolutionary Girl Utena, so I know they're not all just torture porn, my only gripe with Utena is the implication that girls who take on the feminine "Princess" role are weak), but at its heart Magical Girl has always dealt with death, gore and pain just as much as female empowerment.

It makes me feel like the people who write these stories haven't seen magical girl and think it's all just sunshine and rainbows and that just because it's "girly" it's vapid and has no substance, and since the only way to have substance apparently is to be "dark", they go "screw it with all this princessy magical shit! Let's make our show dark instead!" When in reality if they had just sat down and watched a magical girl anime, they would understand that this is not the case.

Not to mention that many of them tend to have fanservice and the idea that magical girls have to suffer, so instead of empowering young girls, they end up misrepresenting the genre and turning it into fetish fuel torture porn for adult men(Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna are very good examples of this; the writer of Madoka says that the girls are terrorists and full of hubris and that he was inspired by porn games). It's not that you can't deconstruct the genre at all, but it's almost never done tastefully and the magical girl themes are just a cover used to explain the suffering the girls go through. :(

Another thing about magical girl deconstructions is that they often reinforce patriarchal themes, like that girls shouldn't want things for themselves and that genuinely doing something for someone while also having ulterior motives that help yourself are a BAD BAD BAD thing, no matter how ultimately harmless they are, even if they help everybody involved. They also tend to reinforce Tall Poppy Syndrome and portray the powers as harmful or a bad thing, implying that girls shouldn't have power.

Honestly, I think there can totally be even more substance in magical girl anime that doesn’t have to resort to “make it eDgY” (which I feel like is a slippery slope that can easily come off as lazy); for example, I’d really enjoy seeing something deeper to magical girl powers than something like, “oh, this magical girl happens to have the power that fits their personality,” such as a magical girl who has a power she feels she doesn’t fit but it’s a matter of perspective/seeing herself differently, or a magical girl who does have the powers that “fit” her personality - like a “fiery” girl with fire powers - and the weaknesses in her powers correlate to the weaknesses in her personality, so she has to either iron out those issues or find workarounds, as true “perfection” isn’t possible nor practical, which is something all the girls have to accept despite whatever pressure they’re under.

.I dunno, I like lore and powers revolving around metaphors. It’s fun.

Anonymous said:

About what you said in regards to "no pueri magi because it doesn't hit the shock value threshold enough", I remember this interesting comment I saw on an article called "The Problem With The Dark Magical Girl Genre"(which I would totally recommend checking out, by the way!) which said that shojo magical girl and seinen magical girl both embrace a different philosophy regarding strong female fighters. In shojo, they tend to embrace femininity as a strength and show girls that they have the power to do whatever they want and undergo dangerous professions. But in seinen, which conveniently enough is more likely to "deconstruct" the genre(ugh), rather than admiring the girls and supporting them in their endeavors, the girls are meant to be pitied(often to the point of infantilization) when bad things happen to them, with the fact that they are girls serving to make everything worse. It operates under the idea that girls are fragile, in need of protection, and shouldn't be fighting at all.

That's why deconstructions like Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna don't sit right with me, and also why I don't consider them feminist series. People can say whatever they want about Sailor Moon and Pretty Cure, but ultimately they also had dark and dangerous themes(to the point where some kids had nightmares), but ultimately allowed the girls to rise above the hell they went through and find the strength in them to save the day. We feel bad for them when they die, not because they're moe girls, but because we were actually given the time to form a connection with them and want to see them succeed, rather than just be expected to pity them because they're cute manipulated girls. That way, when they ultimately save the day, it's all the more satisfying. Princess Tutu was a deconstruction that actually went about it in the right way, because the girls eventually found the courage to defeat their enemies in a way that made sense. Why the hell is it a "good" thing to subvert that?

No clue, but I basically agree with everything there. I mean, Madoka Magica’s entire stick is basically that all the girls are like “uwu” in terms of the style (with Madoka being the “cutest” of them all) and then being put in this dark and edgy plot+setting; it’s for both the shock value and the “contrast” of having “moe” characters be thrust into these situations to essentially die.

And the conclusion doesn’t end up being satisfying (at least to me) because the villain doesn’t have emotions so he’s just like “owo” (seriously, I wouldn’t hate on Rebellion so much if Kyubey had been given emotions rather than going crazy; Homura can basically do whatever she wants and it was SUCH A MISSED OPPORTUNITY) so it ends up being more about the journey getting there like wow look at all the sUbvErSiOnS and dEaTh we had along the way!

Because at the end of the day, it’s still like, “the girls give into their ‘hysterical emotions’ in the end basically no matter what,” even if they get saved by Madoka in the end.

Anonymous said:

Do you remember, in Madoka Magica, when Kyubey said that humans would still be living in caves if not for the Incubators? First of all, keep in mind what Incubators do. Their entire purpose on this earth is to feed off the emotions of young teenage girls as they spiral into despair as a result of their delusions of power. Like wow, let that sink in. Apparently humanity's advancement relies on the exploitation of women. We are literally the punching bags of the universe. Isn't it lovely?

No! You see--we’re so important to the world! If we weren’t emotionally exploited, the world wouldn’t be the way it is now! :D

(kill me)

Anonymous said:

I once saw a tag on tumblr that read "The only good magical girl anime is Madoka Magica because it's gay, and even it has problems." Like, ugh. Really? Has this person not watched ANY other magical girl anime? Such ignorance. So many things wrong with that statement that I can't--and WON'T--even begin to unravel here.

MADOKA MAGICA IS NOT GAY AND I’M SO TIRED OF PEOPLE CLAIMING IT IS

s T O P

I DON’T EVEN CONSIDER YURI ON ICE TO BE GAY. MADOKA MAGICA? NAH MAN.

Anonymous said:

Do the girls in Madoka Magica even have transformation phrases? You know, like how Marinette says "Tikki, spots on!" or how Sailor Moon says "Moon Prism Power! Make-up!" or how Iris in LoliRock says "Iris! Princess of Ephedia!" etc. But in Madoka Magica, there doesn't seem to be any of that. At least in Yuki Yuna they pressed a button on their phones. But how do the Puellae Magi even transform? Just goes to show you how Gen Urobuchi knows next to nothing about the genre he claims to deconstruct.

Transformation phrases are magical and cool and you can’t take that away from me.

Anonymous said:

I had a shower thought about Madoka randomly in bed last night: If a Magical Girl's Soul Gem loses control over its user when 100 metres or further away from it, that meant that when Homura got Sayaka's Soul Gem back for her, Sayaka should've regained consciousness once Homura was less than 100 metres away, even if she didn't have her Soul Gem yet. I also love to ponder why on Earth Homura would even bother retrieving Sayaka's Soul Gem if she only cares about Madoka and Madoka's well-being.

I think it’s just a complicated process of Homura trying to make sure Madoka doesn’t fall into despair herself (in a non-witch way) and is convinced to make a wish.

Anonymous said:

The more I think about it, the more I realize that Sayaka really got the worst deal out of the whole thing. While her story may seem more "mundane" compared to the others(she just wanted the token Ill Boy osananajimi to like her back), she's the only one who somehow isn't brought back when Madoka recreates the universe, loses her Soul Gem on more than one account(and on the second, she starts decomposing and her crush sees her and calls her a monster because he thinks she's pretending to be the REAL Sayaka), is supposedly the weakest Magical Girl, getting swiftly taken out by both Kyoko AND Homura(the latter of which doesn't even make sense, if her body can heal why was she taken out so quickly?), takes a long while to show up in Magia Record, and Gen somehow finds it suiting to single her out as the one who is "destined to die" every time she makes a contract. Apparently the series director wanted Sayaka to live/be brought back, but Gen refused because it just had to be edgy.

Of course, MEN are allowed to have wish fulfillment power fantasies and dream like the sky's no limit and aspire to be all they want to be, but the second WOMEN try to be the strong ones, the powerful ones, or dream of something for themselves and others, they have to learn a lesson about how unrealistic their fantasies are and how they'll never live out their dreams. Hence why Sayaka puts the blame all on herself, saying that she's not a hero and was stupid and selfish the whole time.

"token Ill Boy osananajimi“ dfhbgjhfdgdfg

It was a real shame because I liked Sayaka somewhat (not saying much but still) and she was such a predictable one to go. Like, “oh wow, an angst-y anime all about shock value? so basically the best friend is dead then with no chance of survival.”

I think I do remember being told/reading somewhere (so don’t quote me) that Sayaka is the one that’s hardest to keep alive in the games, so you have to work hard for it. It just sucks.

Anonymous said:

Yet another thing that bothers me about Puella Magi is how the show frames the young ladies as if everything is their fault even though they have no idea what they're getting into because the person who makes the deal doesn't even bother explaining shit to them and all the show's attempts at deconstructing is just taking lighthearted elements meant to empower girls and show them that they can be brave and strong as well as feminine and make them dark and morbid.

Like, I get the whole "having young girls fight is a little unrealistic" aspect, but most magical girl shows actually do touch on that! Only difference is that over time, they become stronger and better at fighting(which is only to be expected, whether you're a teenage girl or not) and become more competent along the way because the whole genre is about FEMALE EMPOWERMENT.

Not to mention how the show seems to forget that the Incubators are villains and even seems to put them in the right and the girls in the wrong, what with the claim that they rationalize with the girls they make contracts with like sentient human beings(yeah, because emotionally manipulating young girls and literally taking their souls out of their bodies and making them liches without their consent is definitely treating them like sentient human beings), and that they always follow up on their end of the deal whereas it's the girls' faults their wishes go sour because they never wish for what they truly want(I'm sorry, but I simply DO NOT buy that. Homura and Mami outright wished for what they wanted. Their wishes went sour because the plot "decided" that they should have wished in a different way; plus, you're telling me that if Sayaka had outright said she wished "for Kyousuke to love her back" that the show wouldn't just "make" him mind-controlled or have Sayaka "outgrow" her feelings by the time he falls in love with her, all the while making it out to be "her" fault he's so heartbroken because she was some kind of tease or whatever, further demonizing girls' sexualities?).

Plus they explicitly claim that every woman in history was a magical girl and that without them, humanity would still be in caves(as in, humanity wouldn't be able to progress without the oppression and exploitation of women, and women can't gain power without going insane because female power is some unhealthy, inhuman, infernal thing.). Even if we take this all as a reflection of patriarchal society(which I highly doubt it was, if anything, it reinforces it), all it does is imply that the oppression of women is the natural order of things, required even.

As for the girls themselves, they routinely beat themselves up and the show makes no effort to tell them they're wrong(up until the massive cop-out of an ending), like how Sayaka's last words before becoming a witch are literally her "admitting" that she was "stupid, so stupid" for wanting a boy to love her and be healed of his infirmity. It just seems like we're supposed to think "you know, maybe the Incubators aren't that bad!" while ignoring that the girls are being treated like the disposable trash bags of the universe. This show already does the magical girl genre dirty but treating it like everything the Incubators did was necessary and like it's all the girls' faults these things happened to them in the first place is the icing on the stale, sour cake. Nothing like a giant heap of sexism to help get you through your day. :/

I’ve noticed this a lot in Miraculous, but Madoka Magica somehow does it worse; this “one (supposed) mistake leads to all of these consequences you never saw coming.”

Like Ladybug calling Lila out. We know that Lila’s pettiness in “Chameleon” shows that it wouldn’t matter whether Ladybug yelled at her or not; the simple fact that Marinette opposes a liar led to Marinette getting expelled, even if only for a while. Then there’s “Miracle Queen” and all that garbage that came with it.

These two shows put their teenage girls through hell for having emotions and there’s no way to undo it.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the Madoka Magica fandom is basically the magical girl equivalent of "not like other girls" type women. I can't say I'd be surprised if they didn't watch a single magical girl show other than Madoka because they're all "stupid and girly but this one is edgy and dark" just because those shows are written by women to inspire other girls and show femininity as a strength while Madoka Magica is written by men for men who want to see young girls suffer without any actual feminism.

Like, let's go through their arguments one-by-one to prove that they don't hold up. They love to say that Madoka Magica is better than other Magical Girl shows because "it's dark and edgy and shows the downsides to being a Magical Girl unlike other shows where it's all sunshine and lollipops". First of all, other Magical girl shows also got very dark. Princess Tutu and Utena are also "darker" takes on the genre, but even more lighthearted shows like Sailor Moon and Precure had scary moments.

The only difference is, with them, they still managed to critique problematic aspects of the genre and actually provided ways to improve it, while STILL managing to keep their target audience(FEMALES) in mind, without condescending to them and infantilizing them. And they still showed the girls being empowered and overcoming the darkness.

In Madoka, there's none of that, there's no actual critique of the genre because Gen didn't have the respect for it to do his research, it's aimed at men so it doesn't keep female viewers in mind by definition(which is also another reason why it can't be a deconstruction; deconstructions should be done FOR its target audience), and the girls are constantly put down and treated like Moe crybabies by the narrative even when they're not(cause, you know, teenage girls are "emotional"!). And it doesn't offer ways the genre could improve, it just takes a female-empowering genre and twists it to be this system of oppression that the genre is meant to avoid.

Magical Girls tend to have a very strong focus on girls empowering girls and all that awesome stuff, and yet when Madoka and Mami form a special bond and Madoka encourages Mami by telling her she's not alone? It makes her big-headed and overconfident and she gets devoured by Charlotte. See what happens when girls rely on each other? Madoka is Sayaka's best friend, but gets pushed aside in favor of Kyoko, who later dies for Sayaka because girls who want to help each other had better be prepared to suffer and die for their beliefs. Sayaka loses everything, which happens to include her best friend, over a guy. And the whole witch process means that any female solidarity that could be found in the show is thrown out the window since the core concept of the show is girls being forced to brutalize and kill and exploit each other.

People act like Madoka is Yuri when it's not, Gen was asked if Homura really was in love with Madoka and if Kyoko really was in love with Sayaka, and what did he do? He beat around the bush. Naoko Takeuchi and Kunihiko Ikuhara(the latter of whom also worked on Sailor Moon R; woah, what a surprise) both admitted that there was gay love in their stories, yet people act like Madoka is super progressive regarding homosexuality when it's just implied and those shows were MUCH more open! Doesn't stop people from claiming the show is "honorary yuri" and saying that the meaning of "yuri" should be broadened to include any close bonds between two female characters, whether or not it's actually romantic, AND favoring the show(and HomuMado) above actual yuri shows that are made to appeal to women. If all this were actually valid, Sailor Moon would be yuri as hell.

I hate seeing people fap over this show and act like it's so revolutionary for recycling things that the genre was ALREADY DOING, because I know full well that the ONLY reason it gets this wide acclaim is because Magical Girl shows have traditionally been written for women and this show is aimed at men. That's literally it. Because nothing a woman writes is good enough, especially when it dares to go against patriarchal constructs of femininity as weak and docile by portraying it as cool and awesome. It doesn't matter how cool and dark and diverse and inclusive and complex Sailor Moon and Precure and Princess Tutu and Utena are, they're written by/for women with the intention of empowering them so they're automatically invalid, cheap, happy-go-lucky crap where nothing bad ever happens and anything those shows try to do ought to be discredited because they don't appeal to men like they should so what's the point?

But the second a MAN comes in and intrudes on a female-dominated space by doing all of those things but with a very shallow understanding of how they ought to be executed, people are all over it because a MAN did it and now it's interesting and respectable! I have seen so many people say that they don't like Magical Girl because it's girly and shallow and stupid, but then they praise Madoka for things that the girly and "shallow" shows have already done! Men are always taking away things meant for women and distorting it to fit their patriarchal views and yet when they do it it's somehow better and anyone who complains is simply a whiny straw feminist!

The fandom does it all the time, someone complains about the show and why they don't like it and find it sexist, and the response is always "you're just not smart enough to understand it; you have no idea what you just watched". Because obviously since it's made by a man it's sooo much smarter then the traditional sappy stuff made by women. That's why it's so annoying when others praise it at the expense of other works in the genre: they know their reasons for liking it are, more often than not, rooted in sexism against female-aimed and female-empowering works, so the only way they can praise it is at the expense of said works, hence them being just like girls who claim they're "not like other girls" when there's nothing wrong with girls being feminine and in fact many of those girls may like the same things you do!

So while I'm not saying there's anything inherently WRONG with liking Madoka, I DO have a problem with people who act like it's better or more serious than other shows in the genre and simply discard them on the grounds that they're "for girls", since they obviously didn't watch them.

me when I initially watched Madoka Magica: I don’t get why this exists.

me when I learned it was written by a man: ohhh, now I get it.

I also take issue with people comparing things that are made for different demographics. Like look, I don’t care if you enjoy your angst display over here, but also maybe don’t compare it to the stuff not even made for you unless you’re willing to get into a fight over it?

It comes off wrong, like they have to trash on stuff because it wasn’t made for them, y’know?

Anonymous said:

Honestly, I am so sick of people saying that Magical Girl shows are sexist or anti-feminist, when all they do is portray girls being awesome and powerful while also being feminine at the same time, because "Well in Japan it's actually gender conformity because it's telling girls they can only be strong if they're feminine! You're just projecting your Western values onto an Eastern work!".

First of all these shows are made by women for women and often have explicit feminine messages that you literally cannot miss unless you are simply blind or trying not to see them. And they also tend to have a very strong focus on women supporting or empowering other women. Just think of Sailor Moon, which constantly gets this "criticism", and yet there's an episode where the girls explicitly protest against a villain who claims women are all shallow and useless and can't do anything without men's help. Would Naoko Takeuchi put that in the show if she weren't a feminist?

And then there's the fact that she has said that one message she wanted the female leads to convey was to value their relationships between other girls because girls are strong and don't need to waste time depending on men. There's also the fact that most Magical Girl shows tend to treat the powers as something special and awesome that's unique to women and girls, paired with the coming-of-age themes present in the show, and you get a magical equivalent of female puberty, with magic mixed in.

But no, all of that gets thrown out the window because they dare to be "feminine" while doing all of that stuff and the Japanese are forcing their girls to be girly through Magical Girl propaganda. And I just HATE when people act like anything feminine must be societally forced onto girls, rather than girls just happening to like them. In addition, stating that they are simply reinforcing gender roles by being feminine is such bullshit because the whole purpose isn't about conforming to patriarchal femininity, it's about reclaiming femininity.

Too often, femininity is associated with being weak, powerless, helpless, submissive, docile, vapid, catty, bitchy, petty, vain, stupid, the list goes on. Magical Girl saves femininity from a bad reputation. It shows femininity in a new light, as something strong and powerful and, hell, even admirable! It's about telling girls "Hey, you can be strong and powerful and smart, but you don't have to be a tomboy or act like a man to do so". Girls are always told they have to act masculine to be taken seriously because the only way to be respected is to be like a man, which is an indirect way of saying that only men deserve respect.

Magical Girl does away with all that in favor of showing the feminine as something innately powerful, and yet naysayers MISS the point and say that it's just stereotyping girls instead. To see people claim that Magical Girl forces girls to fit a feminine ideal to be respected is just disappointing. It's supposed to be a female power fantasy for young girls that shows them as the ones being powerful and empowering each other.

Take how in Sailor Moon the heroine often says something along the lines of "I won't let you take advantage of girls", which Wedding Peach went on to imitate. The purpose of the genre is for girls. To empower girls. So why on earth would they show them fitting into a "male" mould of power? Do these people think that any time women are shown acting distinct from men that they are doing something wrong?

And the hypocritical part is that nobody pisses on male-oriented anime for reinforcing a harmful narrative to boys that they have to be masculine to be valued and respected. Of course they don't! Because being "masculine" is never seen as a bad thing to be. It's assumed that masculinity is always strong and good and awesome and there's nothing wrong with boys being forced to be masculine because you're supposed to want to be masculine. You're not supposed to want to be feminine.

So of course people will shit all over Magical Girl for embracing, empowering, and reclaiming femininity, because it's not supposed to be that way! You're not supposed to be feminine and also be strong. You're supposed to deny your identity as a woman and assimilate into the boys' club because only boy things are worthwhile! And they cover it up by saying that Magical Girl forces girls to be feminine, when in actuality the WORLD forces girls to be MASCULINE. Magical Girl doesn't force girls to be feminine, It ALLOWS them to. Do you see the difference there?

Another thing I'd like to bring to the table is that the claim is racist and here's why: The claim that "Magical Girl shows are seen as feminist in the US for portraying femininity as a source of strength but not in Japan because it's telling girls they have to be feminine"...what does that mean? Japanese people can't be feminist? All Japanese people are sexists and think girls have to fit in a certain role? Do Japanese feminists HAVE to be anti-femininity? Are there literally no Japanese people who think you can be feminine AND strong(who also obviously identify as feminists?) Because it seems hella sexist to insinuate that Magical Girl shows are sexist because they're made in Japan and they don't believe you can be feminine AND strong there.

While there is some credibility to it since Japan IS, by and large, much more strict with gender roles, hasn't it ever occurred to these people that these types of shows exist to counter that belief? Not only that, but it implies that people aren't allowed to have opinions on works that aren't made in their culture, and that anyone who sees those shows as feminist are just projecting their Western beliefs onto an Eastern work. And even worse, when people say that, they don't have the same opinion of Western Magical Girl works.

Just look at LoliRock, Miraculous Ladybug, Winx, W.I.T.C.H., Star vs the Forces of Evil, and countless other European/Western Magical Girl works. Where are the people saying "They get their power from femininity and that is sexist!"? Nowhere! They're silent! Even though those are very much like Magical Girl works from Japan(although I don't think the genre originated from there), while still being original.

It's because people think that any media exported from Japan is automatically sexist and demeaning and so anything they create, no matter how empowering their intentions, gets twisted into something that's somehow toxic or unsafe for girls to watch. But when Europeans do the exact same thing nobody complains. Because Japan is not allowed to do anything empowering whatsoever; something's always wrong with it, apparently.

So that's why I have a problem with people who say those things; it's so problematic because they think they're being all open-minded and aware/respectful of other people's cultures, but all they're doing is reinforcing negative stereotypes further. It's kinda like what I said earlier(in another ask) about how people love to praise Madoka Magica for being a unique, dark, and interesting take on the genre when all it did was rehash elements of the genre that already existed, strip away the female empowerment, and gear it towards grown men, which is why people like it more. How about instead of speaking for Japanese people you let them speak for themselves?!

I would also like to add that there’s even a limit to women acting masculine because that’s still “not enough” for those kinda of men who would promote those beliefs. Women need to act more masculine to “be taken seriously” but then you have men who’ll tell them to “dress less” or whatever.

I think what it comes down to is that they want women to not be “emotionally taxing” with all those dAmN eMoTioNs of theirs (unless it’s for the sake of their angsty magical girl anime where the girls suffer for having emotions), but they also need to look pretty and be sexualized.

We can’t win.

#other: ask and answer #other: non ml talk

15 notes · View notes