#don't operate from their premise
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Yes. This. And.
Also be hesitant to get sucked back in this same domain with slightly/recently deradicalized extremist male-identifying folks who are still seeing the world through binaries, and are feeling falsely entitled to a lot of accolades and comfort from femmes and POC.
Co-regulation is beautiful.
Mutual support and mutual liberation is enriching.
Intersectional anti-oppression work is inspiring and motivating.
Not recognizing the mutual reward as sufficient reward, outsourcing emotional regulation, expecting personalized education, and expecting the focus to remain on them for deradicalizing is frustrating to everyone. Both TERFs and deradicalized men are still operating largely with the same paradigm as the oppressive systems that they "escaped" from. They're still in the "second wave" feminism of "let's get those boots on the correct necks," and white supremacist values of individualism and heroes/divas.
Now is not the time to dig in your heels and glare backwards. There are no main characters in this work.
Congratulations, y'all. You took the first step! Now join us as we all keep going. You have a ways to catch up, but the group experiences many moments of joy and connection, I promise!
"If you have come here to help me you are wasting your time, but if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together." — Lilla Watson
Samsies for "if you have come here for me to help you..."
garden variety conservative transphobia is going to get worse but radical feminism is also going to get worse. if youre a cis women terfs are going to try to recruit you and make you believe that the reason your rights are at stake is because of trans people. they're going to tell you that all men are your violent oppressors and they're going to include trans women in that category. they're gonna tell you about women who are gender traitors and joined the enemy and they're going to point to trans men. don't believe them. trans people are not your enemy, we have no power over you, and we desperately need your support and your solidarity.
be aware of radfem pipelines and dog whistles too. be skeptical of anyone that talks about the divine feminine or correlates birthing, menstruating, or female reproductive organs with womanhood. be especially skeptical of people who use those biological things as reasons to why women are more spiritual, or more in tune with nature, or just that they're better than men (read: anyone they decide is a man)
radical feminism is an expected reactionary outcome from cis women who are being oppressed by conservatives, especially when all they practice is ciscentric, liberal, white feminism. they feel the need to be radicalized but don't have the experience and information to pinpoint the true source of their suffering. trans people are not your enemy, AMAB people are not your enemy, anyone who identifies as a man is not your enemy. we're all being crushed under the same stone
#liberation is a group effort#beware the recently radicalized who still hold all the conservative paradigm#don't operate from their premise#invite them onward#there are plenty of resources already in existence#trust is earned and maintained not granted#co-regulation is better than outsourcing regulation#gotta put funds into the friendship bucket#hate and resentment with a new target is still hate and resentment#end empire
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oh fuck wait I do know how to run a script on a bunch of files. but . only in linux though. i think
#i can hardly like. get a VM copy all my html files onto it run a script and copy them back onto my pc. i don't think that's how it works#or well. well if i sent myself an email. and opened that email on a linux VM. and. and- [i am removed from the premises]#hanging on by a thread please don't tell me my operating systems class was actually useful for something. please. oh god#hm. been googling a bit. cowers in terror. powershell?? do i have to figure out powershell?? is that something that can do this??#i think i'd. prefer to go through the whole bother to make a VM. but. oh god. i am immediately in over my head#echo.txt#compsciposting
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Source:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/2024/10/16/kamala-harris-israel-gaza-lebanon/
The headline says: "Israel complicates election’s final stretch, an issue Democrats hoped would fade"
The sub-hed continues: "Benjamin Netanyahu’s escalating assaults in Gaza and Lebanon have become a growing vulnerability for Kamala Harris amid her bid for the presidency."
But the framing makes no sense. Why did Democrats expect this issue to fade?
Towards the end of the article, we have this:
But Biden and his top advisers agreed with Netanyahu’s premise that the weakening of Hezbollah could be exploited to reshape Lebanon’s politics and appoint a new president. A limited incursion was backed by Blinken, Hochstein, Austin, Middle East coordinator Brett McGurk and White House national security adviser Jake Sullivan, said officials familiar with the matter.
Biden and all his top advisors, including Lloyd Austin, Tony Blinken, and Trump superfan/Iraq puppet government operator Brett McGurk approved an invasion this month.
Again, why did Democrats think this issue would go away? They signed off on an invasion, attempting to install a puppet government in Lebanon, a couple of weeks ago. Invasions don't go away in a hurry.
Earlier in the article, even the Washington Post puts it in perspective:
Michigan has 300,000 people from the SWANA region and they strongly disapprove of the genocide and the Biden/Harris genocide and invasion strategy. This is not fresh news.
Politico reported on this in November 2023: https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2023/11/11/biden-israel-michigan-support-00125320
You can find it in Vox in February of 2024: https://www.vox.com/politics/2024/2/27/24084168/michigan-gaza-primary-biden-ceasefire-arabs
This is political malpractice, in addition to being murderous policy.
It's like they're trying to lose.
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thinking about a futuristic/dystopian au where the tech company you work for moves you into one of their r&d flats under the premise of being a paid, live-in tester. you can't refuse—it'd be foolish to refuse. free rent, a pay bump, and all the latest gadgets available at your fingertips? goodbye, communal bathroom and capsule bunk. hello, filtered air and privacy.
of course, in your hurry to get out of your shitty flat, you skip the fine print. you miss the bit about the new ai that will be monitoring your every move to provide real-time feedback and, at times, tangible nudges to improve your quality of life. the part about the extensive research on your person that's been done and will continue to fine-tune. it's just a pilot program, a temporary arrangement, but it doesn't know that.
a deep, rumbling voice wakes you on the first morning of your indefinite lease, a voice you've unwittingly imagined more times than you'd care to admit. your eyes open to the projection of a bearded man at your bedside, looming, staring down his nose. he blithely observes how hard your nipples are in the flimsy little top you wore to bed. are you trying to catch a cold or impress him? he informs you that you're succeeding in both endeavors.
when you jump up, snatch your robe from the hook, and page your superiors—they're unimpressed. you signed on the dotted line. you shouldn't complain, and no, you cannot opt out. they instruct you to deliver your complaints to john directly to test his receptiveness to human-suggested corrections.
they assure you he cannot harm you* and that he is programmed to view your well-being as his primary priority. if you'd like to learn more, refer to the provided documentation or ask john for assistance. the call ends with a dismissive handwave, and you're left alone. well. not alone alone.
john chuckles as you frantically scroll through your tablet, trying to find ways to filter or limit his speech.
"think we're goin' to get along just fine, user." he dematerializes, his voice drifting from the unit's hidden speakers.
"why don't you sit down, relax, and have a cup of tea? then, when you're ready, i will turn the shower to your preferred temperature so that you may perform your customary morning masturbatory ritual."
your head spins, steam practically billowing from your ears. what kind of sick fuckery is this—
the door to the bathroom whooshes open, and you hear water gush from the bath spout.
"hm, your stress spiked, user. i think a bath would be best. would you prefer to adjust the jets manually, or would you like me to take the lead?"
*please be advised that the ai assistant's physical interference capabilities, if any, remain largely speculative and are not fully documented by the manufacturer. users are encouraged to operate the assistant within recommended guidelines, as the system's limitations in physical engagement have yet to be comprehensively understood.
#no i don't know what this is#price x reader#smart homes give me the creeps and well#artificial intelligence au#strict machine
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Sylus: Seething Red
Warning: 3.9K words. Angst. Little comfort. Cursing! Lots of it. Suggestive ending, for 16+ only, Plot heavy. Emotional & Dramatic. If you can't stomach arguments and fighting, I don't suggest reading this. Reader is not the MC but works as a hunter.
Author's note: This was a bit delayed because I had to re-write this three times :> warning, I proofread this once but I was lacking sleep soooo...
You burned with rage.
Seething, searing the skin of your entire being.
You revved your motorcycle faster, traversing through the pitch-black rainy night in the N109 zone. The fog was severe compared to the city, enough to obstruct the view of the street. Nonetheless, you continued driving, gritting your teeth at the thought of your lover, Sylus.
The towering building of Sylus' base remained void of any form of life, shrouded in a hazy mist of smoke and fog. Not even crows lingered about the premises.
You slammed the door open and met the twins, Luke and Kieran, one reading a book and the other looking at his phone. There was no time to spare them each a hello; you trudged through the godforsaken hallway and threw open Sylus' door.
There, the aforementioned man sat on his couch, staring at the flickering flame of his fireplace, his phone in your hand. "I recall telling you not to leave." The distaste was on his tongue, especially at the photograph of you in the airport with your teammates.
Your nails dug into the ball of your palm, almost threatening it to bleed. Any ounce of reasonable patience in you was slowly evaporating. The urge to talk in a calm manner had long been gone. You gritted your teeth while you took another step closer. "And who are you to make that decision?!"
Jenna gave you an opportunity to showcase your leadership because she knows you wanted a promotion. She offered you three projects to lead alongside her, and you chose a clean-up operation on Almus Island, an island infested with mutant Wanderers.
There was a lot of effort put into this, and you couldn't afford any mishap. You trained hard for this, coordinating with the data team and your own to create plans and backups in case anything went haywire.
It was one of the most dangerous tasks you had to do in your entire career—One that deserved the promotion you most certainly craved. Everything was leading up to that moment you boarded the jet.
That was three hours ago. The security guards stopped you and prevented you from leaving, stating that there was something wrong with your pass. You had no clue what they were talking about, but whatever it was, it prevented you from boarding the jet.
The team was under pressure. Jenna didn't know what to do as well. No matter what you did, no matter what papers you showed, they just didn't let you through. Time-bound, Jenna had no choice but to order you to go back to the headquarters and supervise from there.
That was a complete blow to your ego. After all that preparation, training, and debriefing, you wound up stuck inside the office instead of out there doing your job, which accompanied your title.
The recent promotion you got was an opportunity to ascend the corporate ladder, but with Sylus' actions, you looked nothing more like a fool. You had no idea why Jenna advised you to just head back to the office after security denied your access to the jet, but the sight of Mephisto perched on the flight display helped you put two and two together.
The shame, embarrassment, and look of pity from your peers choked you out of your logical thinking. They whispered against one another, asking why you were holding up the mission.
For once, you thought so little of yourself. Their stares were like fire ants on your skin, stinging you to your very being.
"I talked to you about this before, sweetie. I explicitly warned you about leaving the project for your own safety," Sylus said. The tone in his voice was that of when he was calm and collected, unbothered by the fiery rage that was drowning your mind. "Almus Island is dangerous because it was previously my turf, and I'm not joking when I say that place is a hellhole—it was abandoned for a reason."
"That's not an excuse for you to meddle in my affairs! I was already at the airport, I was with my team ready to leave, and then I found out I can't leave the country because of some shit you pulled?!"
"I warned you to heed my words," he said matter-of-factly. Every word that comes out of his mouth is like a landmine to trigger your emotions. You had the urge to cry, but you fought the pinpricks in your eyes. "I told you to drop off that project and do something else." His words came out smooth, almost matter-of-factly, and you hated it.
Sylus was the type of man to not give in on his actions, and tonight was the time when you had to painfully realize that.
"Listen to me, you piece of fuck—" You hissed through your teeth and strode angrily to him. "—What I do for work doesn't concern you unless Onychinus is involved. I deliberately chose to lead this project instead of the other offered to me because I don't want to be after your neck—God forbid I don't stand a chance against your organization."
Sylus threw his phone onto the couch, visibly irked at your words. "And I did what I did because I don't want you to end up dead," Sylus retorted.
"Are you too much of an idiot to not comprehend that?!" His red eyes glowed, fury flickering behind them. "I requested for you to not leave because I know for a fact you're going to end up injured when you come back, worse, you'd end up as a corpse."
Stupid. His reasoning is pure and utter stupid. Sylus? Scared of losing you? Bullshit. That flawed and shallow reason did nothing to soothe the fire in your heart. You didn't know what was powering your anger.
Was it the shame that you were so eager to leave but couldn't?
Was it the fact that Sylus thinks you're weak?
That he has an overwhelming amount of power against you?
Was it the fact that Jenna had high expectations, but you had made a fool of yourself in front of your peers?
It was all of it.
"That's a part of the job! What I did before you and I met is the same, I fight, and I get injured—Why are you speaking like I'm some sort of newbie in the field? You've seen me in action multiple times, I even saved your ass once!"
"I did what I did because I need to, and I'll do it all over again no matter how many times you berate me. You are staying in this city—you can take whatever project you want, you can go after the organization for all I care, and I'd be more than willing to let you shoot me, but you are not going to that island."
"Fuck! Why are you so insistent?! Did you think that just because you're powerful and shit, you get to toss me around like your fucking lackey?
Do you think so little of me? When I chose you, I did not fucking sign up to be dragged around by your whims—I don't give two fucks why and how you did it, but you don't get to meddle in my affairs," you yelled at him. You didn't care who heard you. You didn't even care about anything anymore.
"You don't get to have a choice."
A loud, ear-piercing crash reverberated in his room.
Before he could say anything else, you picked up the nearest object beside you, a small statuette, and lunged it at him. The once solid form is now nothing more than debris of glass. It crashed against the wall behind his head, the shards flying to cut his cheek.
"Well fuck me, since when did I ever have one with you? The last choice I made was choosing you, and it went to shit from there. I follow every one of your fucking whims, but when I requested for you to not do shit, you turn a deaf ear." You didn't know what you were saying. The words were flowing out of your mouth uncontrollably, previous thoughts and buried resentment now at the forefront of your thoughts.
Silence befalls the room, and you can only hear the harsh thumps of your heartbeat. Beneath the silver-haired man's facade was a clear look of disbelief. Sylus laughed dryly at your words. He looked away and squeezed his eyes shut, no longer able to hide his displeasure. "So you're turning this about me?"
"Sweetie," he flicked his hand, and the black and crimson mist wrapped around you, thwarting you closer to him.
"I prevented you from leaving the country because I don't want your death on my hands. I don't wish for you to get injured, but I tolerated seeing you hospital-bound every other month. You are my partner, and I want what's best for you. I don't want you dying on some godforsaken island just because it's your job."
His EVOL released you, but his long and hard fingers grabbed ahold of your face too roughly. "I did it because I adore you. Because you're my lover," he hissed. Sylus pressed your face closer together, "I did it to protect you."
His nails dug into your cheek, and you winced, clawing it off. "I don't want your protection. I never needed it in the first place," you said through clenched teeth.
"Get this through your fucking head. No matter how powerful you are and no matter what you are to me, whether I do dangerous jobs is not up to you," you dug a finger into his chest. "My life is not in your hands. It never will be."
You pulled away from him and stepped back. "I'm following after them. You better not pull that shit again."
Sylus let out a gruff sigh, drowning in debilitation. His long and slender legs made their way to where you were, and to your dismay, he wrapped a hand around your dainty wrist before dragging you faster out of his room.
A flash of thunder momentarily illuminated the hall, and as you landed on the ground, Sylus said one thing:
"You're not going anywhere."
The door slammed shut right in front of your face.
---
You couldn't do anything. You were helpless against Sylus' orders, and he kept his word: You weren't allowed to leave the country.
As much as you wanted to wallow in self-pity and anger, you had a job to do.
The office was quiet, especially in your division, with you and another co-worker coordinating the mission through the telecommunication room. The soles of your feet were chafed from all the walking, and your throat was dry from distributing orders to all of your team members.
You could only observe the condition of the island through the lenses in their suit. It was pure chaos, and more than half of the team were injured. Thankfully, there were no deaths.
Two weeks had gone by in a blur, and you were navigating through the exhaustion and disappointment. The team, comprising the best of the best, had not made nearly half of the progress expected—they were tasked to retreat for the time being.
Nights were spent in the company's living quarters, and you thrived off canteen food to the point where it tasted bland. You even caught a fever, but you brushed it off with cold medicine.
What was ironic was despite the hectic schedule, every little time in between your duties, you glanced at your phone.
Ever since that night, there has not been a single text message from Sylus. You didn't have the strength to barge into his room, and there was no point either; there was no one left in the base.
The team got back, and there was chaos once more, distracting you for the next week. Most were in and out of the hospital, asking for leaves and days off to recuperate. The damages to your teammates were bigger than what you anticipated, so much so that the daily workforce dwindled by a lot.
Adding to the office workload was the patrol duty and killing off wanderers.
Needless to say, by the time you arrived home, there was almost no time to think. Your head hit the pillow, temples aching to the rhythm of your sore back; yet even then, you could only think of Sylus. The harshness of your words was slowly eating you alive, and what was worse was that you couldn't even remember what he had said.
Your phone lit up to notify you of your schedule tomorrow. Instead, you opened the messaging app and clicked on Sylus' profile.
He had seen the message but did not respond.
Again, he had seen the message.
You bit your lip, typing the letters carefully and weighing your own words. You closed your eyes and pressed send before closing your phone. You were too tired to think about what you said, and with a heavy heart, you drifted off to sleep.
----
The presence of the man behind you was too overwhelming. It was overwhelming to the point where it was enough to stir you in your sleep—the only temporary escape you could have.
It didn't sink in at first. The fact that you weren't in your room. It was too dark and somber for it to be your apartment bedroom; the comfort of the tiny plushies on your desk was gone. Instead, it was the sight of an unused fireplace and the velvet and gold couch.
The satins were rough to your liking and had a scent of sandalwood and citrus. Definitely different from the rose scent you were accustomed to.
Sylus's bedroom. That's where you were. Anxiety pitted at the bottom of your stomach upon this realization; he was nowhere near your line of sight, but the chill on your back was enough of a guide. You turned behind you, eyes adjusting to the blaring city lights displayed outside of his massive windows.
His figure was recognizable, but as bright as the city lights were, you couldn't see any of his facial features.
You opened your lips to speak, yet no words came out of your mouth, and not a coherent thread of thought manifested in your head. There was no point in asking why he brought you back to his base. And as much as you wanted to speak to him, you didn't. The urge subsided quickly, and a second later, the urge to leave took its place.
You took off from the bed, adjusting the sleeve of your nightwear. Your legs were light and quiet as they attempted to make their way to the other half of the room where the exit was. You had no clue how you were going to go home in your state, but it was a lesser feeling than the urge to leave Sylus again.
"The message you sent," he spoke, his hands nudging in your way. "I'm assuming you're going to take it back?" It was as if the floor had become soil: stems of his black and crimson smoke emerged like vines, entangling your feet into their current position.
You kept your mouth shut.
His figure turned into smoke, which accumulated in front of you. "Sweetie," like a month ago, he grabbed a hold of your jaw. "I asked you a question."
"I'm sorry for getting mad at you."
"Whether you're forgiven or not doesn't matter. The last message you sent—do you mean it?"
You didn't, no. That was sent out of impulse, yet with Sylus ghosting you for almost a month, it was almost like he was just waiting for you to say it. What were you supposed to think? He could've thrown you away and found someone else by then.
"I don't know," you whispered.
"You don't know?" he repeated, raising his eyebrow.
"I don't know. You didn't talk to me for a month, and you left the headquarters—I had no way to contact you. What else would I think?" You couldn't look him in the eye, but if you could've seen it, his eyes flickered to softness.
Sylus sighed and set your foot free. The harsh grasp on your face softened until he eventually had to let go.
"I was on Almus Island, and so were the twins."
"Did you—"
"Hurt your teammates? No." He walked over to his couch and ignited a matchstick. He threw it onto the fireplace, and the image of the room became brighter. Only then did you realize your lover's state.
You scurried over to him, fixated on the bandage that wrapped around his ribs and the dried patches of blood on his biceps.
"What did you do?"
"I personally helped with the clean-up." He leaned back on the couch, a scowl on his face when an ache came from his wounds. His back carefully pressed against the velvet cushion, and relief overcame him. "I destroyed the protofield which was left open."
A protofield? You thought. What protofield? There was never a portal indicated in the debriefing. Sure, there was an underground abandoned base, which most likely belonged to Onychinus. Still, they were all bunkers and storage rooms filled with lousy protocores.
"There are a lot of questions in your head right now, but what's important is I've lessened your workload. Order your team to head back to the island next month and do another clean-up. It won't take more than a week and a half to kill the remaining monsters; as compensation, I'll give you access to the armory—I'm sure the higher-ups would marvel at what's left in there."
You processed his words carefully. It doesn't answer your question about the portal, but if there is one, then when the team heads back, you should add several flux stabilizers with you to avoid risking opening another protofield.
"Now, is that sufficient enough?" Sylus asked.
His words snapped you out of your brief work mode, and you stared at his face, wondering what he meant. "Enough for what?"
"As an apology."
You were speechless. Confusion filled your mind with his words. This man was unpredictable, but you were certainly sure he'd rather say sorry and move on than go through all that trouble and get injured in the process. You weren't sure if you were supposed to act all caring about his wounds or act bravely and accept his apology and go back to bed.
"Am I allowed to leave the country?" Sylus' eyes met yours at this question, but you didn't blink.
He raised his eyebrow again. "Yes, you are. I won't do that again."
"Good, you're forgiven." You eased your shoulders and turned on your heel to his closet. You entered the door and took off some jacket and some loose sweatpants of his. "Get yourself patched up by a doctor; I'm going home."
The thudding of his footsteps reverberated behind you, and before you could open the door, his big hand blocked the way. You turned back and spotted him clutching his side with a frown on his face. "Where are you going?"
"Back home," you replied matter-of-factly.
"And you're not going to address your text?"
Ah, for a moment, you forgot about that. Your break-up text. He apologized for the flight incident but never for abandoning you for a month; maybe you can take advantage of this for a little while longer.
Your fingers tapped on his hand and pushed the door closed. Your gesture was enough for him to let go and step back in the hope that you'd do something. You twisted the doorknob and pulled it open, one last peek at him.
"Get some rest."
You shut the door and ran down the hallway—instead of your home, like you said, you took one of Sylus' motorcycles and drove to the headquarters.
---
Three days had passed since then, and you really weren't that concerned with Sylus. Luke and Kieran say he's doing fine despite constantly being on edge almost every day. You, on the other hand, were busy planning for the next clean-up—hopefully, a more successful one thanks to Sylus' help.
You hopped out of the shower, but a sense of dread greeted your neck. You stopped before taking another step. Your eyes searched for the source; it wasn't from the locked door or the laptop on the kitchen desk. Your bedroom door, on the other hand…
From behind the vase near the entrance, you pulled out a small gun, but before you could even unlock it, the tall, familiar figure popped out of the bedroom, in his grasp a bouquet of roses. You froze, and so did he.
You stared at each other before he looked at your hand in disappointment.
"You really have to fix that habit of yours." The habit pertains to you constantly pointing a gun at him.
"First, you tamper with my passport, and you kidnap me while I'm asleep, and now you're breaking and entering?" You released the lock on the gun and placed it where it was, finally placing a hand on your hip. Beads of water dripped from your hair onto your bare shoulders, rolling down to your chest and finally to the towel.
"I wouldn't need to do this if you answered my question from the very beginning."
You don't want to deal with him right now. Not when I'm half-naked.
"Wait for me in the living room."
My movements weaved around him, and he just quietly followed my figure. His footsteps were quiet, but he was following me into the room—you had to stop him before he became an audience to you in the nude, but you didn't even get the chance to turn around.
Sylus picked you up, and you yelped from the sudden movement. You held on to the tuck of your towel as he threw you onto your own bed like he would before.
"You—I told you to wait!"
"I am not a patient man, sweetie."
The ends of the towel parted from each other, exposing a bit of your lower abdomen. His eyes landed on that specific place as well. You lifted your foot slightly and stretched it so that it could reach his chest, preventing him from taking a step further.
"Sylus. Wait."
Sylus backed off at your words like a dog. You fixed yourself back up and crossed your legs.
"No. I didn't mean that text. Not anymore, at least." To that, it was a sign for him to come closer. You watched him approach your body, looking down at you with a finger stroking the side of your face. "Just… don't ghost me like that. You made me think that you replaced me."
"Replaced you?" he questioned. "Is that how you think of me?" He almost looked offended.
"I wouldn't put it past you, considering the things I said."
He hummed and tilted your head upward so he could get a good look at your face. "I may be a shady person, but I'm certainly not a womanizer, sweetie. I thought you had more faith in me."
"Sorry," you replied.
Sylus got down on his knees and kissed your own, his calloused fingers savoring the soft touch of your calves. The sweet musk of vanilla wafted under his nose, almost reeling him in. You gazed at him intently, knowing where this was about to go.
Author footnotes: Yay I finally get to post this. I had a hard time writing this because I wanted it to be dynamic but at the same time I didn't want to write a full blown fic with an over complex back story. I had to re-write the entire thing until i felt somewhat satisfied.
Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by me!
#lnds#lnds sylus#lads xavier#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus love and deepspace#l&ds#sylus lnd#SYLUS#sylus x you#sylus qin#sylus x y/n
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the hotel room ~ jschlatt
word count: 2341
request?: no
description: in which they stay in a $4k hotel room, so of course they have to put it to good use
pairing: jschlatt x female!reader
warnings: swearing, rpf, smut (fingering, oral m receiving, praising, unprotected p in v, lil bit of rough sex, multiple orgasms), yet another $4k hotel room fic
masterlist (one, two, three)
"You spent how much?!"
Schlatt merely smirked as he got out of the car he had rented for your Japan trip. You turned back to the huge hotel that stood before you. The look of it alone made you feel extremely poor, and now knowing how much he had paid for it made you feel unworthy of even being on the premises.
He opened the car door and nodded for you to get out. "Come on, we gotta see this fucker."
You followed him into the hotel, with Trevo following behind both of you with the camera in his hand. When you had asked him if he was staying in the same hotel on the ride over, he started laughing. Now you knew why that was his reaction.
The room was huge. Basically big enough to be an apartment. Which made sense because it was the price of rent for an average apartment in New York. Honestly, classifying this as a "room" felt like an understatement. You were almost afraid to touch anything because of how expensive it all felt.
Schlatt and Trevor filmed around the room ("Now it's a tax write off," Schlatt had joked) while you sat on the bed. Even though the room was so expensive it was intimidating, you had to admit it was the comfiest bed you'd ever laid on. Even better than your and Schlatt's shared bed back home. You had also noticed the bathroom, which had a huge walk in shower and a jacuzzi bath tub in the shower, and you were beyond excited to get to use it.
The video concluded with Schlatt showing Trevor the terrace. You followed them outside upon Schlatt's request to see the beautiful view. You were tucked against his side as Trevor shut off the camera. His hand was idly running up and down your arm, so that plus the welcoming heat from his body was starting to lull you to sleep. You had had a long day of travel and you wanted nothing more than to get a hot shower then slip under the covers of that super comfy bed.
"I'm gonna shower," you mumble sheepishly.
"Okay babe," Schlatt said, kissing the top of your head. "I'm gonna finish my beer with Trevor. I'll kick him out if you go to bed before he leaves."
You chuckled. "You don't have to do that, but if he is gone by the time I get out, then I'll see you tomorrow Trevor."
You shut the bathroom door then turned to the shower. You were expecting it to be extremely hard to operate, but you were surprised that it was a very simple, single shower handle. You turned it to nearly as hot as it could go and undressed. You closed the shower door and stepped under the hot water, signing in relief as the hot water hit your body. You washed your hair, letting yourself enjoy the water as you washed up.
The hot water steamed up the shower door enough that you didn't see the bathroom door opening and someone slipping in. You didn't hear the clothes hitting the floor either. When the shower door opened, you yelped. Schlatt chuckled as he slipped in behind you.
"Is Trevor gone already?" you asked.
"Yeah, he also wanted to get back to his hotel and go to bed." He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against his chest. You tried not to notice his hard length pressing against your back. "Jesus, this shower is nice."
"It better be for $4000 a night," you said, leaning into his arms.
"You're not gonna let that go, are you?" he said with a laugh.
"Of course not! That's, like, the price of rent!"
You words were cut off by a gasp as Schlatt cupped your breasts. His fingers rolled one of your nipples between them as his lips lowered to your neck. You moaned as he nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck. It was getting harder to ignore the hard cock pressing against you.
"Have you washed yet?" he whispered in your ear.
"W-What? N-No."
You nearly whimpered as Schlatt pulled away, leaving you missing his body against yours. You watched as he picked up your body wash and squirted some onto his hand. He lathered up both hands and stood behind you again. His soapy hands cupped your breasts again, lathering them up in the sweet scented soap. One hand stayed massaging your breast while the other started moving down. It skimmed your stomach, moving in slow circles to keep lathering the body wash. He ran his soapy hand over one inner thigh, then over the other. Despite the hot water still running over you both, you were shivering with anticipating.
Two fingers ran through your folds before applying pressure to your clit. You moaned as Schlatt started rubbing agonizingly slow circles against your clit. His lips found their way to your neck again, kissing and biting you, undoubtably leaving marks. Your body jolted involuntarily and pressed your ass further against Schlatt. He groaned, his cock twitching against you.
"I think," he said, his mouth right next to your ear, "I should be very thorough in cleaning you."
And with that, he slipped a finger into you. You cried out in pleasure as he slowly fucked you with his finger. The palm of his hand pressed against your clit, picking up where his fingers had left off. You were quite literally putty in his hands. The hand on your breast moved to wrap around your middle, holding you up as your legs began to tremble.
"You gonna cum for me baby?" he asked. "I can feel you tightening around my finger. If I give you another one, will you cum for me?" You nodded, but he grabbed your chin and turned your head to look at him. "Use your words, toots."
"Yes!" you cried. "Yes, Jay. I'll cum for you!"
He smiled and slipped a second finger into you. It didn't take long for him to coax an orgasm out of you. You trembled in his arms, your walls spasming around his fingers. The sounds of your moans echoed off the bathroom walls. Schlatt whispered praises into your ear as you came down from your high. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers from you. He held his hand under the water, which had started going cold, to rinse your juices from them.
Schlatt reached past you to turn off the water. You turned to face him, almost immediately noticing he was still hard. You reached down to stoke his cock. He grunted as your hand touched his member. You pumped him a few times before moving to kneel, but Schlatt stopped you.
"Not here," he said, breathless. "Wouldn't want you to hurt those pretty knees on the tile floor."
He led you back into the room and sat you on the comfortable bed. Schlatt stood before you, stroking his cock as he looked down at you in admiration. He ran his free hand through your hair.
"Open."
You did as he commanded, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. He smirked at you. "Good girl."
He smacked his cock against your tongue before slowly pushing it into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, keeping your tongue on the underside of his cock. He moaned as you took him as deep as you could go. You looked up at him, his head thrown back in pleasure, beads of water from the shower still dripping down your body. You felt yourself becoming wet (or rather wetter) between your legs at the sight alone.
He was slow and gentle as he fucked your mouth. He didn't want to accidentally gag you or hurt your jaw (it had happened before and he still felt immensely guilty for it). He wanted to savor the feeling of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around him, and the sight your beautiful eyes looking up at him. But god, he'd be lying if he said he didn't just wanna fuck your face until drool was running down your chin and he was shooting his load deep into your throat. You were so beautiful and perfect, and he just loved when he got to ruin you because you were his and his alone.
When the feeling of your mouth around him became too much, he pulled himself from you and said, "Up on the bed on all fours."
You wasted no time in doing what he said, a small smile on your face as you did. He chuckled to himself at your excitement as he climbed up onto the bed behind you. He put a hand between your shoulders, guiding you down onto the bed until your face was buried in the pillows and your ass was in the air, presented to him.
"The bed isn't against anything, so I can go as hard as I want without worrying about the headboard," he said, running his cock through your folds in a teasing way. "If I go too hard, you'll tell me, right?"
"Yes sir," you said, your words muffled by the bed sheets.
"What's the safe word, princess? I need to hear it before we start."
"P-Pineapples. Fuck, please fuck me, Jay. Please."
"Who am I to say no when you're beggin' all pretty for me?"
He pushed himself into you, filling you completely with one thrust. You cried out, muffling your noises with the sheets below you. As he started thrusting at a brutal pace, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head up from the bed.
"Don't you dare try to muffle those pretty noises," he growled. "I wanna hear how good I'm makin' you feel."
You had no intentions of holding back your noises, mainly because you didn't think you'd be able to. He had you so cock drunk that all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock abusing your g-spot. You gave him exactly what he wanted, your moans filling the room and mixing with the sound of his skin slapping against yours. Once you were able to focus on anything else, you had to admit you were impressed with how little the bed was moving even with Schlatt's roughest thrusts.
He let go of your hair, allowing your head to fall back onto the bed, to grab your hips with both hands. His fingers dug into the fleshy parts, definitely leaving more marks on you. Not that either of you minded. You loved when Schlatt marked you up. You wore the hickies that he gave you with pride, letting everyone know who you belonged to. With this new grip, though, he was able to pound into you harder, which you didn't think would've been possible. You cried out as you felt the familiar pressure building in your lower stomach again.
"Are you gonna cum again?" he asked. "Gonna cum all over this cock like a good girl, babe?"
"Y-Yes!" you cried. "Yes I'm gonna cum again. F-Fuck, it f-feels so g-good."
"That's it, baby, cum all over my cock. I'll give you want you want then, I promise."
He didn't have to do or say much else to get you to cum again. You were already on the edge of your orgasm, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stop yourself even if you tried. You gripped the sheets so tight in your hands that you could almost feel your nails digging into your palms through the fabric. You screamed Schlatt's name as your orgasm ripped through you, hitting you harder than your last one had.
Schlatt wasn't too far behind you, his thrusts growing sloppy and his cock twitching inside of you. He reached for your arms, pulling you up so that you were pressed against him once again. You turned your head to meet his lips as he thrusted into you one final time, spilling himself completely inside of you. He held you close, his body trembling from his own release. His hands wandered to and part of your body he could touch, until he finally settled on wrapping one arm around your waist and the other across your chest. He was whispering praises into your ear again as you both came down from your high.
Eventually, when he started to soften, he gently lowered you back onto the bed then pulled himself from you. You rolled onto your back, watching him as he disappeared back into the bathroom and came out with a wash cloth for you.
"I hope they don't charge for us using the fuckin' towels and cloths," he said as he passed you the warm cloth.
You giggled. "You already spent $4000, what's another couple dollars to clean up after sex?"
"I'll tell you one thing, this is the nicest fuckin' room I've ever had sex in. Nothing else will ever compare."
"You're right. We may as well just stop having sex once we leave this room."
He gave you a look. "Okay, I didn't say that."
You giggled again as he got into bed with you. He pulled you into his arms and pulled the covers up over the both of you. Your body immediately relaxed into his side, and into the most comfortable mattress you've ever laid on in your life.
It was silent for a moment, and you were starting to fall asleep, when Schlatt suddenly woke you by exclaiming, "There's a fuckin' button to close the blinds!"
You opened your eyes to watch Schlatt click a button next to the bed, and suddenly the large, black out blinds started to slowly draw shut on their own.
"Jesus, I fuckin' hate rich people," Schlatt muttered.
"And yet you're the one who booked this room."
"Okay, we've been over that. Time to move on."
You playfully stuck your tongue out at him before mumbling, "Goodnight, Jay."
"Goodnight, babe." He kissed the top of your head. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
#jschlatt#jschlatt imagine#jschlatt x reader#jschlatt smut#schlatt#schlatt imagine#schlatt x reader#schlatt smut#imagine#one shot#smut#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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watch how you talk to yourself and how you talk about yourself.
and i say this because many people talk badly about themselves as if they are not the operant power of their life. if you are on this journey long enough, you know that words are powerful, even as a joke. and if they are so powerful, why not use them in more powerful ways?
"watch your conversations carefully; are they from premises of fulfilled ideas? if they’re not, go back and make them and make them actually correspond to the ideal you want to embody in this world." ♱ the coin of heaven, neville goddard
how you talk to yourself and about yourself comes down to your belief about yourself. that inner knowing that you have or are that "negative trait." even if you don't say it to yourself, if you have that belief, you will unconsciously downplay yourself when talking to others.
i am not saying you have to boast and egotistically look down on others. you can think highly of yourself and talk highly about yourself without doing that. you don't have to constantly tell people that you are this and that because your energy alone can tell it. otherwise, you are just simply disguising your confidence with narcissistic behaviors to seek validation from others.
how i changed my conversations.
as i have been working on my self-concept over the years, i realized one thing: if i want to be the person i desire to be, i cannot talk badly about myself and to myself. so, what i did is i actively catch myself when i am about to say something that doesn't align with me. i changed it to a more uplifting and powerful statement.
whenever i am having a conversation with others and i have the urge to downplay and talk badly about myself to appear "humble," i choose to stay silent or say something that people would not find boastful. (i say this because i am typically not surrounded by people who think highly of themselves yet, so they might find me boastful or arrogant.)
i understand that in order to talk highly about myself, i have to
think highly of myself
know that my natural self is divine
love myself unconditionally
these are the things that i realized as i work on myself. i am aware that if i change my inner beliefs and conversations about myself, it means i am deciding to choose to be the person who i desire to be. things come easily to me as i love myself more and more every single day of my life.
and it is so important to be surrounded by people who actually like themselves and think highly of themselves because if you are already that kind of person, you would not see each other as arrogant or boastful. instead, you will uplift each other more.
#law of assumption#neville goddard#self concept#loa#loablr#affirm and persist#reality shifting#desired reality#bashar#manifestation#manifesting#law of attraction#shifting#consciousness#spiritual awakening#glow up#that girl#divine feminine#high value woman#self worth#adulting
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A Guide to Pokemon IRL
Hello! Pokemon IRL has been getting more and more popular over the year and a half I've been in the community, and I'm seeing lots of people being confused by it.
So I'm making this guide, to hopefully help people understand it better, and perhaps join us in this wacky community.
Part 1: The Basics
Essentially, Pokemon IRL is a RP community centered on one single premise: Blogging as if you were in the Pokemon world. It's a hybrid of askblogs, RP blogs, and general tumblr blogs.
There's very few rules to it, other than just "don't be a jerk". There's all kinds of Pokemon IRL blogs, from regular OC trainers, to canon characters, to characters who are Pokemon themselves, to even Fallers from non-Pokemon media, and more!
The main thing is that 98% of Pokemon IRL operates on the multiverse. Blogs can have conflicting canons, since the multiverse exists, and the blogs can be from different universes. This also means that multiple people can RP the same character. I've lost count of the amount of Kieran and Silver blogs.
Why is Pokemon-world tumblr multiversal? Who knows! But that's the one generally accepted canon thing across almost all Pokemon IRL blogs.
Part 2: Glossary
I know glossaries are usually at the ends of books, but I figure it's important that I define some important terms before I get to the rest of this guide.
Rotomblr - The generally accepted name for Pokemon-world tumblr. I personally prefer to use the name Tacklr instead, but that's just my opinion.
Sapient Pokemon - Pokemon that are sapient. Typically refers to Pokemon that run blogs. Some blogs don't allow interactions with them. Some blogs love interacting with them, though, such as all my blogs!
Eebydeeby - A human that has been turned into a Pokemon. "Eeby" is short for it. "Sleeby" means "slow eeby", or a human that has been or is in the process of slowly turning into a Pokemon.
Hybrid - This has two meanings. The first is someone who's part human and part Pokemon. The second is a Pokemon that's part one species, part another species.
Pelipper Mail - This is a multiversal system of mail, powered via Pelipper! You can have Pelippers send items to other blogs with this. Can be enabled or disabled per blog. Same goes with the next five terms.
Pelipper Unmail - Instead of giving, this is taking. This steals something from another blog via Pelipper.
Pelipper Malice - Essentially, this is sending something to another blog that you know will hurt them.
Musharna Mail - It's like Pelipper Mail, but with dreams! This can be used to send dreams to other blogs.
Musharna Malice - Just like Musharna Mail, but it's nightmares instead of dreams.
Magic Anons - Essentially, this allows anons to do whatever they'd like to the characters on your blog. Use caution when enabling this, though, as it's suspected that some people fetish mine with these.
High Stakes - Basically, this refers to anything that can majorly injure many characters, or otherwise have lots of bad stuff happen. Many blogs don't like interacting with this stuff, so it's best to tag it.
Drama Stakes - Like High Stakes, but less. This is when stuff is happening that could lead to in-universe ruined relationships. Best to tag this too.
Ultra Stakes - Like High Stakes, but more. This is when things lead to potential death of many characters. Definitely best to tag this as well.
Chosen - Sometimes someone is a legendary's favorite special little person, and they get powers from it! That's essentially what a Chosen is.
Faller - Someone, usually from a non-Pokemon media, who falls into the Pokemon world. Essentialyl a way of writing a non-Pokemon character in Pokemon IRL.
Self-Insert Faller - An OOC blogrunner falls into the Pokemon world. Can get very meta.
Muse Mixup Madness - At the start of every month, there's an event where some blogs temporarily change their core concept for a day or a few. It's best to tag these, and to give warnings beforehand.
Part 3: Setting up your Blog
Setting up a Pokemon IRL blog is a lot like setting up a regular tumblr blog, just in-character.
The main thing you'll need is a pinned post explaining the premise of the blog. These are usually in-character, with an OOC section at the bottom.
It's best to warn for possible triggers that might pop up on the blog, as well as explaining your boundaries (i.e. if you don't want Pelipper Mail).
Feel free to theme your blog too, changing the header and icon, adjusting the theme colors, maybe even have a custom theme!
Once you have that all set, you're ready to interact!
Part 4: Interacting
I made a full guide on how to interact here, if you want to check it out!
The main thing is, don't be afraid to interact. Even with big blogs. Everyone's happy to receive interactions! Worst that can happen is that your interaction is ignored.
So don't be scared! Jump in, and start interacting!
Part 5: General Advice from my Friends
I asked around for any additional advice people wanted to add, and here's what some people had to say:
"uhhh ooc communication is super important, especially if youre trying to do a plot with someone or smth along those lines" - @espers-n-espurrs
"Uhhh "Do it scared" Like. If you're nervous about doing something but you wanna do it, do it even though you're scared!!!!! Also like. Have fun. People can tell when you're having fun. Be silly. Do what you want forever. Also that big blogs 9/10 don't mind interactions with smaller ones. I think I count as one and like. I am just as scared as interacting with new people as the smaller blogs who wanna interact with me" @chaos-cousins
"interact with people" - @justalileepguy
"The absolute worst thing that can happen if you send someone an ask is that they delete it. People like getting interaction, even if it's from a blog you don't follow. If you're having trouble interacting, find something your two characters have in common and point it out" - @fated-furret
Part 6: Miscellaneous Stuff
If there's anything I'm missing, feel free to let me know, or add it in a reblog! I've been in this community for a long time, but even I don't know absolutely everything.
If you've read this far, thank you! I hope this guide helps in some way. Reblogging it is appreciated, but not necessary.
And if you're thinking of joining the Pokemon IRL community, then I'm excited to help welcome you!
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The problems with the 'infighting' comic
So I deleted the infighting comics. Fundamentally, the reason why is that I think I did a bad job with them. Clearly this wasn't a popular decision, and I did say I'd elaborate on why when I had time, so let's talk about the problem with the infighting comic.
Just to get this out of the way, the problem is not that the 'wrong' demographic liked it, or anything of the sort. What I don't like about the comic, and what keeps coming up, is that the way I frame it and how I execute the attempt at doing something with the never-ending churn of Discourse in the queer community is that it:
Fails to state what I think the problem is. "Infighting" is vague, it can mean basically anything, and unfortunately a very common use of the term is "literally anyone in the community criticizing anyone else in the community for any reason whatsoever." The comic fails to do anything to communicate whether this is the intended reading or not. This is a problem because the most common targets of bad-faith infighting accusations are also the most marginalized in the community, and the fights start as completely unjustified backlash to marginalized people criticizing marginalization.
The comic doesn't sufficiently communicate the intended idea that these are marginalized people with actual problems. The complaints of the characters come off as trivial due to how they are only presented in an oppositional context, with no frame of reference given as to whether their complaints are equally legitimate, whether one of them is right and one is wrong, or whether they're both just saying some nonsense. This is a fundamental flaw in the premise, because depending on which real-life situation the reader assumes it's about, the entire meaning changes. Regardless of what I say I actually intended this is bad enough that by itself, it drags down the whole thing.
The framing that the bigot character doesn't care about the difference between the groups. This only works if you're operating under the assumption that the comic is talking about groups that are routinely conflated by bigots, which at the very least is a detail that should be clearly stated in the premise, not in the second comic, and again leads to a very artificial framing of the supposed "infighting."
The main character being presented as a neutral observer with no stake in the argument themselves is weird.
The follow-ups do very little to address any of the above issues.
The comic is spread over four separate posts, which means even if the above issues were meaningfully addressed, the circulation of parts of the comics without those problems dealt with would continue, with all the problems retained.
There are more criticisms, and I am not going to argue with them because I don't want to defend the comic as I made it. I don't like it. I am tired of seeing the arguments that come from it. I apologize for how it was made, and I will not attempt anything to replace it until I can meaningfully address the problems with it.
There are additional structural problems with the Pills That Make You Green comics that have become more and more apparent as I've kept making them. I think failure to meaningfully address these issues is going to keep causing comics to fail in similar ways, and so I am thinking that a serious change to how I approach these needs to happen if I even want to make them anymore.
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Unsub Bait
Premise: For the fourth time, brilliant sunshine!reader is asked to bait the unsub. For the first time, Spencer has a problem with this.
Word count: approx. 2,000
Tw: canon-typical discussions of violence
Author's Note: Welcome to the second installment of brilliant sunshine!reader (meaning highly intelligent sunshine!reader) x Spencer Reid! While you don't have to read my first brilliant sunshine! reader fic to understand this one, I would highly recommend reading it. It's titled "I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't." Hope you enjoy! :) <3
“Here’s an overview of the first phase of the operation: (Y/N) will go undercover as a college student at Yale. She’ll get acquainted with the unsub at Speakeasy, the New Haven bar where he assesses potential victims. We’ll apprehend him in the act of attempted kidnapping.” Hotchner listed for the team.
You’d played unsub lure almost a comical number of times. Once? That’s a once in a million task required to capture a once in a million unsub. Twice? You’d only have two nickels, but it’s weird that it happened twice, right? But four times?
You’d already joked to Hotch that you should add “professional unsub bait” to your resume.
It would’ve been more comical if it wasn’t so scary.
You took a deep breath as you stared at the photos of the victims on the mahogany conference room table. Melissa Grey. Audrey Bernstein. Alivia Johnson. You could see your 21-year-old self in their eyes. You remember being so young and full of anxiety; you were near graduating from MIT. You couldn’t sleep at night from worrying if you had already lived up to your potential and would spend the rest of your years a washed up gifted kid– an academic has–been. After graduation, you proved to yourself your worth.
The college juniors in the photographs had their lives cut short by the unsub before they had the opportunity to find out what amazing places their brilliant minds could take them. You were about to allow said unsub to nearly kidnap you.
That is, if you didn’t blow your cover. Then, he would hold you hostage or attempt to kill you as soon as possible by skipping his usual "kidnap and torture" routine.
Rationally, you knew your field experience more than prepared you for this task. Also, you knew your team had your back. They always kept you safe and healthy. The one time you were put at serious risk, you had to fight to be left alone after the case closed. But, you’re not sure if all the facts in the world could adequately calm your adrenal glands.
“Is this necessary?” Spencer suddenly interjected.
You turned to Spencer in surprise. “It’s the quickest way. We have twenty-four hours,” You said.
The unsub had a pattern; a girl was dying once every two weeks, and, when the the local and Connecticut police force combined failed to contain the situation, the BAU was brought into the case 36 hours before the next killing. With his eidetic memory, you were certain Spencer couldn't forget the time restraints if he tried, hence why you were stunned by his sudden brazenness. However, given Spencer's traumatic relationship history and your budding romance, Spencer's behavior was a lot more likely.
You and Spencer had been dating for a couple weeks. Despite being certain the team had their suspicions, you kept your relationship on the downlow. Strong boundaries were a good thing to keep when your relationship was in its fragile, formative era. Plus, you both agreed it was best to keep a high level of professionalism.
This was the first time Spencer broke protocol.
“I think there’s another way.” Spencer continued. “It’s unsafe and illogical to put anyone’s life into considerable risk if there’s another viable option.”
“Are you implying I’m being rash, Reid?” Hotchner asked with a raised eyebrow.
Usually, Spence would look away and take a breath. He’d at least have the decency to act timid, especially given the fact the entire team pulled multiple all-nighters in an effort to catch this serial killer. Instead, he leveled with Hotchner’s glare and asserted himself further. “I just think we’ve gotten a little too comfy using (Y/N) as an unsub lure. The more we do, the more probable a disaster will occur with her in the line of fire.”
“Spencer,” Morgan cut in gently. There was sympathy in his eyes. “We’ve done this with (Y/N) before. We’re good at reading her. And she knows the drill. We’ll keep her safe.”
“Yes, because that’s something we can certainly guarantee when she’s 3 inches from a serial killer.” Spencer deadpanned.
“Reid. A word.” Without waiting for Spencer’s reaction, Hotch left the meeting room. With a hard look in his eye, Spencer filed after Hotch. You were relieved he was still obedient despite being ornery.
For a few moments, the team sat in silence.
Rossi broke the spell with the scrape of his chair. “Well, I for one, am going to take this impromptu intermission as an opportunity to grab coffee. Any requests?” Rossi asked.
“I’ll take a barbajada.” You joked half-heartedly.
“Very funny, (L/N). Any requests the office Keurig can complete in less than five minutes?”
The team rattled off their go-to office drink orders, but it faded to white noise. During your friendship, Spencer would always care for you when you had to lure the unsub. He’d be more attentive on the jet ride in and out. He’d check in on your mental state directly after the unsub was arrested and always called you once you got home. Once, after the particularly stressful unsub encounter, he sent you links to PTSD articles and even offered to help you schedule an appointment with a specialized therapist through the FBI’s mental health services.
But he’d never once intervened with a plan for you to go undercover. You knew Spencer Reid was nothing if not rational. He knew Hotch valued every member of his team. He knew Hotch would never send you undercover if it wasn’t necessary to stop a killing spree before more young women became statistics.
Therefore, you knew Spencer was thinking about Maeve.
You stood.
“Where you going, Beauty Queen?” Morgan asked.
“Just heading to the restroom.” You lied.
You walked down the hall and crept up the stairs. You tiptoed down the east wing of the second floor to avoid clicking your heels against the concrete.
You crept to the side of Hotch’s office. You pressed your back to the wall.
Hotch said something indecipherable. An angry Reid answered.
“And all I’m saying is, she is not a cat with nine lives! She has one life. One precious life, that I think we’ve been a little too careless with.”
“Reid, you know I would never risk putting (Y/N) in harm’s way if it wasn’t the best course of action. She’s experienced with this. The team is experienced with this.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Promise me that if you have so much as an inkling her life is in danger–”
“We’ll do everything in our power to get her out of there.”
“That’s the thing! ‘Everything in our power…’ It’s not enough. How many times have we told families we did everything we could when all they have left is a body bag?”
Your heart froze. Both of the voices lowered. You could only catch bits and pieces of Hotch’s speech. You were never an eavesdropper, but despite your better nature, you crept around the corner towards the door.
“I know what it’s like to lose someone to an unsub, Spencer. I know how it sticks with you. I know how it changes the job. But you have to trust us– the team. We’re going to protect her. And we’re going to be there for you,” Hotch said.
Spencer sighed. "How did you do it?" Spencer's voice cracked. "After Haley, Hotch? I’m not sure if I can survive this.” He sounded seconds away from tears.
At that moment, you knew you would not sleep comfortably at night if you continued to be a fly on the wall. You tiptoed back down the east wing and waited for Spencer at the bottom of the stairs.
Ten minutes passed before Spencer appeared at the top of the staircase.
“Spencer?” You called.
His hazel eyes were tinged pink. He walked down the stairs nonchalantly. “Hey, um, would you mind if we discussed part of the case file real quick? Privately? It could help, um…” He cleared his throat. “Develop your persona.”
“Yes, of course.”
Spencer didn’t look at you as he power walked down the hall towards the janitorial closets. For the first time since you started dating, he didn’t adjust to your walking pace.
He flung a door open and yanked you inside.
Carelessly, Spencer slammed the door behind you. Before you could get a word in, he pulled you into a bear hug.
“Spencer.” You whispered. “I’m here. I’m okay.”
He nuzzled his nose into your hair.
You stood in the statue of a hug for two minutes.
“I can’t lose you.” Spencer whispered.
“You won’t.”
Spencer pulled away from you. He bent down to look you in the eye. He squeezed your shoulders. His eyes danced with emotion. There was a deep ache, a whirlpool of sadness that you knew a lifetime may never heal. What perplexed you was the hardness that you could only read as anger.
“I…” He sighed. He hung his head. He dragged his palms down the slope of your shoulders to your forearms. It was like he was taking a cast of you with his hands.
“I’m not dead on arrival. I’m still here. I’m coming back on that jet ride home with you. I’m going to be okay.” You reciprocated his shoulder squeeze. “You’re going to be okay.”
Spencer shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I care about you. It’s a part of the girlfriend package.” Spencer pulled you into another constricting hug.
“I can’t fathom how difficult this must be for you.” You whispered.
Spencer pressed his forehead to yours. “Promise me when you go out there, you won’t worry about me. I want you to only focus on you, your surroundings, and making sure you get out of there.”
“I promise, Spencer.” You said, though you weren’t sure if that would be the truth.
“And one more thing,” He said. His irises were so close to yours you could pick apart the layer of green and brown. “As soon as you feel unsafe, you call someone. If you have any inclination he’s going to overtake you–”
“I call the team.”
He took a step back and ran his hands through his hair. “I know you’re strong. I’m not trying to insult your field work.”
Your heart cracked. “Spencer, love, I know that. I’m so happy you care about me. I just wish this situation hurt you less.”
He dropped his hands to his sides. His brows furrowed. He stared at a random point to the left of your face.
“Can you do something for me? Before we leave?” He asked, still not meeting your gaze.
“What is it, Spence?”
He took a deep breath. He met your eyes again. “Dance with me.”
“What?”
“Dance with me. I…” He inhaled deeply. “I never got to dance with Maeve before she…I barely even got to hold her. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
You closed the distance between you and Spencer. You cupped his face in your hands, and he instinctively leaned into your touch. His eyes shone with tears. “I’ll dance with you for the rest of my days, Spence.”
He whipped out his phone. He turned on a slow jazz song you played for him last winter on an impromptu hot chocolate date.
Your heart skipped a beat. You could go on that same date again, but it would have a whole new color to it.
He slid his phone onto a cleaning supply shelf. He pulled you to his chest. Your head nestled right beneath his collarbone. You wrapped your arms around his mid back.
You danced, bodies pressed together like puzzle pieces, in silence until the song ended. The symphony of emotions didn’t cease with the final brush of the snare.
Spencer continued swaying with you.
“I’m going to be okay.” You whispered.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You can’t promise me that.” He held you even tighter. “But I can promise you I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you come home to me.”
Author's Note: Hello to all my new followers! I'm so glad you're here! I'm so grateful for the overwhelmingly positive reception to "I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't." Hope you enjoyed this piece as well!
I hope you have a great day or night wherever you are in this crazy world.
xoxo,
shewroteaworld
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds
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Of My 50+ Favorite BLs these are the 10 I rewatch the most
So you could call these my favorite comfort foods. Everything on this list got a rating of 10/10 or 9/10 from me.
10 Most Comforting BLs
(for me, in order of most recently rewatched at the top)
Our Dating Sim
Korea 2023 Viki (watch the series not the movie)
This is a perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy. I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.
Cosmetic Playlover
Japan 2024 Gaga
The most recent release on this list, it came out this year and I've already rewatched it 5x. I love this little show. It's a classic office BL about the older workaholic who loves his job and the younger upstart who unexpectedly loves his boss. It’s a hyung romance where everybody is extremely earnest and sweet and pretty about everything. Except our seme, who is slightly unhinged and a little obsessed in all the ways one likes best from Japan (if one is me). Plus the kisses are good! Utterly charming unexpected gem of a show. What fun!
Jun and Jun
Korea 2023 Viki
A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Other boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and decent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. My only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else.
My Personal Weatherman
AKA Taikan Yoho
Japan 2023 Gaga
This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but are so repressed they don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that aspect is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan. That said it's also bruisingly romantic. Emphasis on bruise.
Unintentional Love Story
Korea 2023 iQIYI
OMG the plot! Uke forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the PAIN in those gorgeous eyes. Gah. Okay, so: A boy loses his job due to trumped-up corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back, if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya). All that said, when I rewatch this it's usually just the second half, but WHAT a ride.
Semantic Error
Korea 2022 Viki
Sexy older boy discovers pouty younger boy has outed him as a slacker, starts out bullying him, accidentally falls madly in love instead. Korea hits it entirely out of the Parks by doing a university BL with everything we expect from BL just done exactly right. Korea's signature quality executed perfectly with added bonus good story, great pacing, stunning visuals, and fantastic chemistry. You cannot ask for more from a BL, let alone a KBL. Another one where the rewatch is mostly just the second half.
Old Fashion Cupcake
Japan 2022
This show had me from the moment they broke the egg yolk with the chopsticks in the opening credits. It’s about a younger man with a long cherished crush on his boss (ten years older and going through a mid life crisis) who decides to save and seduce said boss with pancakes. It’s wholesome, comforting, sexy, and a very necessary narrative about still having hope, interests, and openness to affection at any age. It’s a stunningly filmed late-in-life comg of age/queerness story packaged in a subtle critique of expectations around masculinity, love, and loneliness… and it’s beautiful.
Yes yes. But the bit you know you want to rewatch is that long shot with the bite kiss. YOU KNOW you wanna.
Seven Days
Japan 2015
Ha! I faked you out 'cause this wasn't at the top but of course it's on the list! One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). Older boy dares the hot af younger one to date him for a week. Turns out they both like it... A lot. The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.
Takara & Amagi
Japan 2022
I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this show, but a rewatch is way less tense. Reserved cool kid must learn to communicate to keep the tiny disaster nugget he’s madly in love with. It is beyond charming: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning.
We Best Love
Taiwan 2021 WeTV
WBL successfully managed to pick up and combine the best features of Korean, Thai, and Japanese BL as it exists right now. Couple that to the insane chemistry from the leads, and we have one of the greatest BLs of all time, cooking to a recipe I doubt anyone else will ever be able to replicate since only Taiwan is this flexible. It's basically every classic BL trope bombarded at us in two parts, rapid fire, one after another. Rewatching this show reminds me of everything I love about this genre. It is the genre in pure concentrated form.
The End!
I think it's no accident that none of these are Thai, part of a rewatch for me is the brevity of the show, longer stuff does get rewatched, but not as frequently.
(source)
#10 Most Comforting BLs#most rewatchable bls#my most rewatched bls#best bls#favorite rewatches#korean bl#japanese bl#live action yaoi#taiwanese bl#Our Dating Sim#Cosmetic Playlover#Jun and Jun#My Personal Weatherman#Unintentional Love Story#Semantic Error#Old Fashion Cupcake#Seven Days the series#Takara and Amagi#We Best Love
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i would kill to see a Home Alone adjacent AU with tim drake. teeny tiny timmy drake, when jason is still robin.
the premise is this:
tim's still feral, still stalks the streets at night, and hasn't yet learned physical combat. but he has unlimited time, and the bats for neighbours, so he has mechanical knowhow already by sheer want of... idk, getting closer to the wayne family through buisiness? being a good heir to drake industry's RnD? being a freak?
he also has Jack Drake's shotgun at home, and a lot of money.
the drake parents bring something home from their most recent archaeological dig. this thing is maybe alien, maybe tech, maybe magic. they don't know that, but they do know it's old, so they add it to their manor's collection.
and then they, canon typically, leave.
so tim has this artefact in his manor's vault, and he studies it because his parents(!) brought it home(!!!). he doesn't figure it out at the start, and he quickly gets distracted, because some crooks come for it.
here is the story my brain has cooked so far:
it starts with the local mob groups' lowest goons who can be trusted not the drop The Artefact. maybe falcone?
tim calls the police on them as they break in, and lists the address as the drakes, the rich ones, so the cops actually help.
tim doesn't know why mobster goons just tried to break in, but he does know that the batman is his neighbour. tim knows that he has some sort of security system from the wayne manor galas (he has, after all, not managed to take pictures of where the batmobile is after investigating the garage).
so tim comes to the totally rational conclusion that he needs to trick out the manor. but, like, subtly, so his parents don't get mad when they come back.
as he's making the traps, for fun mostly, serious goons from falcone, and some guys from penguin show up. they fight each other, and tim, again, calls the cops. they take the unconcious (and shot) goons off the front lawn, and ask tim about being Home Alone.
after some gaslighting, tim builds serious traps.
and thank god he does, because black mask goons show up. and a bm enforcer. ruh-roh. they somehow get taken out by the traps, and tim chugs so much coffee making new ones that he blacks out and can't remember some of the new traps he makes (hello chekov! we've already seen you here :).
then comes the riddler himself, having heard about the puzzle traps, and wanting to just, y'know, play a game. after finding out it's a kid stepping on his toes, he's gonna go, but then tim offers to buy some trap components from the riddler. a lucrative allience is established.
riddler goes to try and find out what the other bosses are trying to steal. catwoman catches wind of the investigation from his questioning; that people are struggling to steal a valuable item from a rich mansion. (tim also learns this is about The Artefact from the riddler, when he drops off some... materials.)
catwoman interrupts a theft attempt from... idk, deadshot, or deathstroke, hired (by luthor?) to get the Artefact. after getting beat up by tim, both are horrified by tim's living situation, ironically the mercenary's more than catwoman because they are Dads tm.
so now tim has two gotham rogue's and a mercenary on his side, who help make more traps (and subtly make them lethal) and give him some shooting lessons with his dad's gun. which is good, because the moment they leave, the court of owls show up, having gotten word from the goons to the social elite about the drake family's new Artefact.
the talon's don't die from the new lethal traps, but they do get their zombie selves stuck in them. the league of assassins show up. the talons were given orders to not be seen. being unseen is standard LoA operating procedure. they kill each other unitl the only one left is a young pru. (from canon red robin's brucequest, if you don't remember her.)
the bodies are dumped outside, into the yard, by being trebucheted off a balcony. poison ivy turns around and leaves without even getting started. she takes the bodies with her. whatever is pumped into the talon's is great ferilizer, and the basic nitrogen in blood is pretty good too.
things escalate more.
the Artefact begins to glow in a lonely vault. a heavy hitter shows up, and so does Klarion, attracted to the chaos. they fight. batman is distracted from this by investigating what is happening in the lower levels of the gangs, and why the riddler is smuggling so much weird, random shit. no seriously, why is he smuggling silly string??? use it to start inefficiant fires? (fun fact, ss is highly flammable.) and the industrial amounts of glitter??? Riddle me this, Batman, who is the world's largest consumer of glitter?
miraculously, drake manor is undamaged by the fight.
tim wasn't at the manor that night, he was stalking batman again. he will never know that this happened either.
but pru was there, deciding if she should stay or return to the league. this makes her choose to stay. tim gets a sister, and he doesn't even have to date her first!
pru also helps tim get ready for school the next morning, and is at the manor during the rest of the day, scoping out the interior.
alfred pennyworth does notice the lightshow, and he goes over to talk to the neighbours himself that morning, because really, he can handle some noise disturbances, he handled young master bruce after all.
he knocks on the door.
the riddler is inside, setting up silly string streamers and glitter with a few other rogues, goons, mercenaries, a baby assassin, and some small children of deadshot/deathstroke.
it's tim's birthday.
alfred considers this situation very seriously, and decides to bring master jason Robin over, to moniter the situation (relax and socialize with other kids).
tim comes home to a surprise party, from people who are concerned about him, and care for him.
it's all he's ever wanted.
(the wish granting Artefact dissolves into shimmery dust.)
the party goes smashingly. it's great. there's a massive cake, and no clowns jump out of it.
tim has spent the last month being harassed by superpowered and unpowered crooks. he goes to another room to cry from happiness, when the distinctive sound of one of his traps goes off. it's not one he remembers making. he hears an adult man swearing.
he gets his dad's gun.
a large figure bursts into the party. tim reacts before anyone else.
he shoots.
it's batman.
tim shoots his shotgun at batman, who broke in thinking alfred had been abducted and used to sign jason out of school.
catwoman catches it on video.
tim is mortified. so is batman. everyone else thinks it's the best party ever.
the party continues. tim is presented with several adoption offers. he cries again, and says yes to all of them.
tim has a vigilante's happily ever after.
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So for those of you who don't read twenty-year-old marvel comics a lot, the 2005 Marvel Crisis Crossover was called House of M. The basic premise of this was that this was smack dab in the middle of the Scarlet-Witch-is-Having-a-Normal-one arc that was very, very loosely adapted into Wandavision; in her initial breakdown, she'd killed several of the Avengers, wound up in the protective custody of Magneto, and the recently reformed team was debating whether or not they were going to have to kill her before she deleted reality on accident or some such thing. But when they're on their way to Magneto's stronghold to have a "talk" with her, the world is enveloped in white, and Wolverine (the initial POV character) wakes up in a world where Mutants are 98% of the human population and have been for decades, and Magneto and his family (the titular House of M) are leaders of the global political order, and Wolverine is one of the only people in this realigned world who remembers that it was ever different.
Wolverine initially is operating under the assumption that Magneto cajoled Wanda into rewriting reality in his family's favor, but after rounding up and waking up several of his allies, he realizes that what actually happened is that Wanda rewrote reality so that everyone she knew would get everything they wanted- Magneto being in charge with a 98 percent global mutation rate is just the inevitable byproduct of that. The resulting world is an amalgamation that has to accommodate the conscious or subconscious "perfect life" of every superhero on earth, in a way that acts as a fascinating characterization tool, often with a monkey's-paw angle. Spider-Man is a beloved celebrity wrestler, and Uncle Ben and Gwen are both alive, but he attained that status by pretending to be a Mutant and he lives in constant fear of being exposed. Mystique, Rogue, Nightcrawler and several of their associates are the tight-knit family unit they were always kept from being.... as the elite jackboot of Magneto's regime. Luke Cage and Hawkeye lead the human resistance, standing in perpetual principled opposition to the powers that be, but with no real hope of accomplishing anything. Captain America didn't lose years of his life to the ice, but he had to live through a global authoritarian takeover he ultimately couldn't do anything about. Wolverine gets to remember his entire life, but that includes remembering that his current ideal circumstances were manufactured to keep him placated. And on and on and on. Lot of really interesting character takes packed up in there, paired with the equally interesting project of packing as many of them as possible into the same timeline without contradicting each other- after all, from the word go you have to contort everyone's happiness around the basic conceit that Magneto rules the world.
Anyway. House of M AU for Worm. Discuss.
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When writing fanfiction, there are a lot of unknowns surrounding Mobei-Jun that I answer based on what I think is compelling, funny, and/or contrasts well against SQH | Airplane Bro. (Sometimes, based on what contrasts interestingly and/or hilariously against Luo Binghe or Shen Qingqiu.) The choices I make for MBJ also depend on what suits that particular story.
An interesting question: "What kind of literature does Mobei-Jun like?" He's Airplane Bro's Ideal Man / Dream Guy! It's fun to think about what Mobei-Jun's relationship might be to fiction.
One choice that I've pulled a few times now is having Mobei-Jun be functionally illiterate, mostly because I think that situation is an interesting / amusing contrast to the guy who technically wrote the world into existence. Airplane Bro was cranking out thousands of words per day to eat, selling out his honest passion for literature, and Mobei-Jun can't / doesn't read.
There are lots of different potential reasons for this! Maybe Mobei-Jun is dyslexic. Maybe he desperately needs reading glasses and doesn't realize it. (Yes, maybe half of his glaring is just squinting.) Maybe his education was really bad because his family tried to murder him too many times. Maybe he just doesn't have any interest in fiction or in reading as a hobby in general, because paper / writing is rare in the Demon Realm for a variety of reasons and he's been busy building more relevant skills.
(Airplane Bro is shocked and offended, yes, but mostly because Mobei-Jun somehow successfully hid being unable to read from him for two or more decades. All of those "you read it" and "you write it" orders suddenly make so much sense.)
Another direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" that I've been enjoying lately as a premise is that Mobei-Jun is the sort of person who would have genuinely enjoyed "Proud Immortal Demon Way". But, like, in a weird way. Like, maybe Mobei-Jun isn't there for the women or the power fantasy, but he's fascinated by the cage of dissatisfaction, misery, and cruelty that the protagonist is building around himself using empty pleasures and merciless vengeance. Mobei-Jun is there for the tragedy. Everyone else in the comments section would think that he's a weirdo for different reasons, including Airplane Bro, but Mobei-Jun is (by accident) operating on a level where he sees the vision.
Alternate direction on "Mobei-Jun would like PIDW, actually": maybe he would like it because he actually loves trashy drama and stupid catfights. He's there for the comedy. He grew up in an environment where his father stole his uncle's wife and his own uncle tried to kill him multiple times, after all. In PIDW itself, right-hand man Mobei-Jun somehow successfully suffered years upon years of Luo Binghe's harem nonsense, and maybe Mobei-Jun was having the time of his life watching Sha Hualing start shit in the harem, actually!
Maybe in a Modern AU, Airplane Bro would try to sound intelligent and cultured by talking to his rich boss / boyfriend about classy literature, only to find out that Mobei-Jun basically only watches reality television competitions where people are constantly trying to tear each other's hair out for money. If people aren't screaming in each other's faces over a spilled glass of wine, throwing plates at each other over a stolen boyfriend or a ruined wedding, or backstabbing each other via wardrobe sabotage to get ahead, then Mobei-Jun is bored. Fighting matches or extremely dangerous sports are also fine, though, sure. (Airplane Bro doesn't like any of this stuff. He's a fantasy novel guy. He has no idea how to react to this.)
Another funny direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" is that maybe "Proud Immortal Demon Way" wouldn't actually be weird ENOUGH for Mobei-Jun's tastes. Maybe Mobei-Jun would be like that guy who claims "if I can guess the twist, then it's not suspense - suspense is when I don't know what's going to happen next, period" and reads long-running, amateur, foreign, abstract web-novels that he has to put through an online translator himself. Maybe in a Modern AU with this opinion, Mobei-Jun loyally watches telenovelas and Bollywood soap operas. Airplane Bro comes into the room and says, "Wow, not even any subtitles? You can understand what they're saying?" and Mobei-Jun says sincerely, "No. You have to figure out what's happening without them. This is the intended viewing experience."
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TWST with a Blood Mage reader (Part 3)
Warnings: Blood and Gore, Slight Swearing
• When the fae entered the room, the sight made him fall out of his levitating upsidedown posture out of shock. He closed his eyes, trying to gather his bearings, and blinking his eyelids a few times before he expressed what looked like mild panic. He looked at the headmaster, expecting an explanation, but it seems like Crowley also froze in what looks more like mild fear.
?????: "BY THE SEVENS, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE, CROWLEY?! WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?!"
Crowley: "DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT HAPPENED?!"
?????: "NOW'S NOT THE TIME FOR ONE OF YOUR SORRY EXCUSES, YOU BIRD BRAINED MORON! THEY NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION!!"
Crowley: "I'LL CALL THE INFIRMARY --"
?????: "INFIRMARY?! WHAT ARE YOU, STUPID?! THIS ISN'T JUST SOMETHING YOU COULD SIMPLY PUT A BANDAID ON! CALL AN AMBULANCE!!"
• Seeing the gore in front of the fae caused him to lash out at Crowley and hollar for any medics. The seven men in robes snapped back from their shock. The man with glasses pulled out his magical pen to summon bandages and the man with red hair pulled out his to cast a healing spell.
• The floating tablet dialed an emergency hotline while stuttering and hyperventilating, the man with blonde hair quickly talked to the operator on the other side of the screen.
Operator: "Hello, this is the Sage Island Hospital, what's your emergency?"
????: "W-W-We... They.... B-blood... sob..."
Operator: "Sir? I can't hear you. Please speak clearly."
????: "Blood...sob... Everywhere.....sob... H-h-help...sob... "
Operator: "Sir, please--"
???: "OH FOR SEVEN'S SAKE! LISTEN HERE, THERE'S A PERSON HERE THAT NEEDS AN AMBULANCE! IF YOU DON'T COME HERE QUICK, I DOUBT THEIR SKIN WILL STAY TOGETHER ANY LONGER. DO YOU HEAR ME?"
Operator: "W-we hear you, sir... Please stay on the line. We sent an ambulance to your location."
• The man with glasses and the man with red hair surrounded you cautiously, careful not to touch the exposed mangled flesh and wrapped your wounds with the bandages. All you can do is just go with the flow, knowing that explaining the concept of your complicated magic would be useless now. Besides... It's very amusing.
??????: "... A-alright. Can you hear me?"
BloodMage ! Yuu: "Yes."
??????: "Calm down. Breathe. The ambulance will be here for a moment, alright?"
BloodMage! Yuu: "Okay."
????: "Stay with us, now. Don't faint. Oh Sevens!"
BloodMage! Yuu: "I won't."
??????: "Azul, please pull it together!"
??????: "Look at us. Y-You're going to be fine."
BloodMage! Yuu: "Okay."
• You're not sure if the men are comforting you or they're comforting themselves, judging by the look on their eyes. Their hands shaking and their breaths shortened. They're more unnerved by how calm you are despite your burnt skin.
• The man with lion ears ordered the students to call the infirmary ghosts in case the ambulance doesn't arrive on time. The fae guided the panicking students to the exit, including the man with the turban.
• Crowley ordered the ghosts to immediately vacate Grim from the premises. The cat did not resist and could only look at the mess he caused as the doors closed behind him.
?????: "THE GHOSTS ARE HERE!"
Crowley: "Finally!"
?????: "EVERYONE, STAND BACK!"
Random Student A: "Th-th-they're dead 😰!"
Random Student B: "There's blood everywhere 😱!"
Random Student C: "Eugh... Crap, I think I'm gonna be sick 🤢..."
Random Student A: "It's that horrid monster's fault 😨!"
Random Student B: "...sob... Why is this happening?...sob... I just got into this school!...sob.... 😥"
Random Student C: "I just wanna go home, man! 😭"
Infirmary Ghost A: "LET US GO THROUGH!"
Infirmary Ghost B: "PLEASE LET US SEE THEM!"
• The wall of students parted like the Red Sea to make way for the ghosts. The ghosts immediately operated on you and began to layer the bandages the two men wrapped. A crowd of nosy students gathered around, either fascinated by the gore or wanting to witness how the ghosts apply first aid.
?????: "Hey, hey, I wanna see- EW! I regret seeing that! #NotForWeakStomachs!"
????: "Cater, just stop taking photos! Aren't you supposed to evacuate the students?"
Cater: "Don't worry, Trey. Lilia already handled that... Ugh, I'm gonna need bleach for my eyes for the rest of the week..."
Lilia: "Alright, I guided everyone to safety and the monster was captured and removed not long ago... How are Riddle and Azul doing?"
Trey: "Lilia! Thanks for helping us."
Cater: "Yeah, seriously thanks."
Trey: "Riddle is actually calm but it's hard to think that this is his first time doing first aid."
Cater: "Azul looks pretty pale but surprisingly, he can handle it without Jade after all."
Trey: "sigh, Cater... How's Kalim?"
Lilia: "He's horrified. The poor boy cried rivers. I had to call Jamil after he vomited on the floor."
• While the three of them are chatting, the ghosts give permission to Riddle and Azul to let go and let them do the rest. The boys approached the three looking disturbed. They look at the blood stains on their clothes, unnerved by what they had seen.
Cater: "Riddle! Woah... That's a lot of b-blood..."
Trey: "How are you holding up? Are they still alive?"
Azul: "........"
Riddle: "..........."
Lilia: "Riddle? Azul?"
Azul: "...Riddle, did you see that?"
Riddle: "...Yes."
Trey: "What are you talking about?"
Cater: "They're not dead, a-are they?"
• Cater and Trey eagerly wait for an answer, clearly hoping that you would stay alive and kicking. And well... You are.
Azul: "F-forgive me if I sound delusional, Riddle. But did you see how they aren't affected at all?"
Riddle: "No, you're not delusional. I definitely saw that... They seemed to stop the bleeding by themselves without us using pressure..."
Cater: "Guys, you're scaring us. So please just spill it."
Lilia: "... Just what I suspected."
Trey: "W-what do you mean?"
Infirmary Ghost A: "WAAAH!!!"
• All of the students become more alert after hearing the ghost's shriek and another panic surged through the room. The ghosts frantically search for more bandages as the blood starts... Levitating?!
Infirmary Ghost B: "Th-they're certainly not normal!"
Crowley: "Move, move! What in Twisted Wonderland is happening?"
Infirmary Ghost B: "They are healing themself!"
BloodMage! Yuu: "Hehee~"
• Everyone heard a giggle from you and they froze. They looked in your direction and were frightened to see streams of blood coating your every limb, encasing it like additional bandages and melted itself into your bones. Finally, it solidified and healed your limbs perfectly.
Lilia: "...Could it be?"
Crowley: ...I-it's...!"
Lilia: "...Blood Magic."
• You're unfazed by the attention you're receiving. You stood up and flexed your newly healed limbs. The mirror's face then disappeared.
Crowley: "...I... I thought it was forgotten...!... I-i thought it's forbidden to...!"
Lilia: "... Crowley, please listen to me. We must guide the students to the dorms before things get even more complicated."
Crowley: "And you're leaving this unexpectedly violent event to me? With them?!"
Lilia: "Crowley, I apologize... I may be centuries old but even I cannot grasp the knowledge of Blood Magic. I hope you understand."
Crowley: "Oh... Very well. I shall take matters into my own hands then..."
#Twisted Wonderland x reader#Twisted Wonderland x GN reader#Twisted Wonderland x male reader#Twisted Wonderland x female reader#Twst x reader#Twst x GN reader#Twst x male reader#Twst x female reader#Twst x MK
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Okay, I'll bite, what are your feelings on the trans conner pitch?
Oh boy! Thank you for tossing me this bone because I have a lot of mixed feelings!
I notice that people online are very hot and cold about the Trans Superboy Pitch, they either love it or hate it and that doesn't leave a lot of room for nuance + discussion. So to be respectful to a fellow trans peer in the industry, I want to do a fair review/analysis of Skyrocket: the trans Conner Kent pitch by Magdalene Visaggio.
My general takeaway from the pitch is that I like the premise, but the details fumble the execution for me. I can really feel from reading the pitch that Visaggio cares about Superboy. She understands that he's a very weird legacy character who has struggled to find proper footing in the DC Universe after all these years. An effective legacy character is one who is able to spin off and expand upon the themes of the character whose mantle they carry. But the cheesy whatever-goes 90's-ness of Superboy's original run didn't give future writers a lot to work with in terms of a Superman Legacy Character.
It's why I genuinely believe the later retcon reveal that -part of Conner's DNA is from Lex Luthor- is a fantastic addition to his character. It takes a character who was just kind of screwing off to gentrify Hawaii back into the center of Superman's good vs evil conflict. But now Conner's problem is that his story is too tied to his origin and Superman's shadow. Placing Conner with the Kents in Smallville afterwards made him narratively redundant. What's next for him?
So let's dig into the pitch!
I like what's at the heart of this pitch. It's a very season-3-ATLA-Zuko "honor wasn't all it's cracked up to be" arc and I think that suits Conner's character really well! It's the details I have gripes with:
"Conner has been largely relegated to the Jason Todd of the Superfamily" oof, haha that's not a particularly fair characterization.
The constant comparing of Superman to Christian imagery. He's described as basically "Jesus goddamn Christ" in the pitch. The Tyrannical Kryptonians are named Saint, Shepherd and Savior. No surprise I don't like seeing a character who allegorically represented Jewish immigrants to be constantly compared to Christian imagery and deified.
It's inevitable with pitching to the company, but the pitch is bogged down by a lot of convoluted plot points. I get that it's necessary to pitch event tie-ins and universe hopping shenanigans, but it's a lot.
Leland feels like a plot device in this. I'm sure there were plans to flesh out the brotherly clone relationship between him and Conner so that he can feel like his own character, but from the summary he just kind of revolves around Conner the way the pitch describes Conner revolving around Superman. Oops!
Conner's relation to Luthor and Superman works as a story about legacy, bloodlines and the things parents pass down to their kids. It's best when handled thematically and not literally because it's easy to get into essentialist "good genes" vs "evil genes" near-eugenics talking points. Unfortunately this pitch has a lot of that vibe. Leland has more Lex genes so he's super smart. Conner and Leland are able to start a schism in the Future Tyrannical Kryptonian House by "proving their truer genetic link to the original Superman, unsullied by thousands of years of tinkering" thereby gaining allies. Not great!
The part where Conner wants to find "his own Metropolis" by moving to Dripping Springs, Texas. That's Jinny Hex's field of operations, so is it really his own space? I would've just given Conner a new town so he can better stand on his own and build out a unique cast system.
Okay let's talk about the trans stuff!
I get that it makes for an Iconic Visual Superhero Moment, but I really don't like the part where Conner steps through a magical crystal and pops out the other side as a trans woman. It robs her of having that discovery on her own. The pitch says "I believe that this is as natural a move as Iceman's coming out". And just?? Man, remember when Jean Grey read Iceman Bobby Drake's mind and robbed him of his agency by outing him through that invasion of privacy? For a pitch all about Conner's journey of defining herself, it weirdly robbed her of that moment.
The pitch does such a good job talking about how Conner feels like her whole life revolves around Superman and how pointless wanting to be Superman feels now that Jon Kent has taken the mantle. She has Clark's genes, goes to Clark's hometown school, is raised by Clark's parents and all that. So then why is she eventually named after the women in Clark's life? Constance "Connie" Lara Kent. Clark's Kryptonian mom and human grandma? Was the world so small that she could not name herself after anyone else or come up with a new name? Connie doesn't even get to name herself, her new name is one Martha Kent bestows her with. It's hypocritical, and doesn't have the same impact that Superman giving Superboy a Kryptonian name does.
Speaking of which, this right here is my biggest gripe. It's not in the pitch itself but?? Wait- why go on about how Conner deserves a name that's not given to her and then turn around and make Martha name her? Sure, Connie comes up with the superhero name "Skyrocket" herself but surely she also deserves to name herself considering the thesis the pitch built up about self discovery and agency right?
Also with all due respect, this is the whitest queer take on Conner's identity. I wish white trans people could understand that you can have multiple true names that reflect different parts of you.
When Clark gives Superboy the name "Kon-El" it matters that it's given. It ties so well to the idea of familial acceptance into a nearly-extinct culture. You wouldn't know how to reclaim that part of your identity when that culture's been wiped out, so of course it's an honor to be trusted with a name that preserves Krypton's culture. This is a common practice with diaspora reclaiming cultural names from closed cultures, they are gifted their names by someone more culturally connected. I think the pitch having Martha name Connie is trying to echo this, but it doesn't hit the same without that cultural context. It also undercuts the genuine joy Conner felt from finally having a name he truly identifies with. Conner was only ever referred to as Superboy before then. When Clark gives him the name Kon El, Conner cries out that Kon El is his "real name". It's one of his defining moments, and to have that be diminished by saying "It's still a name someone else gave him" is so disappointing.
Then there's the design.
This is gonna lean more into preference, but I'm not the biggest fan of this design! I get what it's going for but it has too much going on everywhere. It also doesn't have that proto-punk look original Conner had, so it ends up not feeling like him. It's too superhero, and not enough casual-wear-on-a-supersuit that Conner sports really well. I see how it fits in with the everyone-in-Superfam-is-wearing-jackets-era, but I also think those new designs don't look good either. Especially Supergirl's. I feel like Conner should be more punk post transition. No respectability beam for her!
Also the name Skyrocket? It's giving knock off-brand toy vibes to me I'm sorry D: People on twidder suggested Supernova and that sounds way better! Even Visaggio stated she prefers that name so you can't be mad at me for this.
Overall big conclusion feelings!
I've been following Visaggio's work for a while because it's awesome seeing trans people getting picked up in comics. While there are some things about her writing I like, for the most part I've felt like her work isn't my cup of tea. I tried reading up a bunch of interviews she's in to try to understand why her writing wasn't clicking with me, and what I discovered is that we have fundamentally different approaches to queer storytelling.
From Paste Magazine. I get where she's coming from, trans characters deserve to have multi-faceted narratives that don't overly center how they're othered at the expense of further characterization. But also? I just actually find the interior lives of queer people and identity interesting. I like writing the kind of escapism and joy that's informed by surviving and inheriting hardships rather than erasing those things or skipping past it. I think this is why Connie is robbed of her trans discovery in the pitch. Why we don't get to watch her grapple with gender identity in a political way. Queer stories about queer struggles are considered archaic and unnecessary nowadays. It's part of the escapism Visaggio values in her work; to give a place of respite for trans readers from the cruelty they experience in reality, but I don't connect to stories like that personally. Whenever I try to share queer Indonesian art and writing with my peers, I'm often told it's too painful to look at. That our pain doesn't fit the modern expectation for happy, empowering queer stories. "trans people get enough hardships in real life, they don't need that in their fiction" Visaggio still talks about her newest projects like this btw.
I'd love to see a take on Conner that more holistically continues the political immigrant themes of Superman. The white parts of fandom love interpreting Conner's identity crisis as primarily a queer struggle, but it's also one of a person grappling with his mixed heritage. He's a diaspora kid separated by a generation away from Krypton. He has yet to make peace with the Luthor side of his identity, one borne of generational trauma and resentment for one's roots. Instead of a take where his queerness separates him from the pressures of legacy, I want to see a Conner take that has themes that are intersectional about his mixed diaspora and queer identity. I want his superficial punk aesthetic to graduate into actual punk ideals. The anti-establishment and radical love philosophies of punk culture would make such a cool extension of Superman themes and it would make so much sense that someone facing so many intersections of marginalization would be radicalized from their experience. I want a queer Conner who isn't just empowering and idealistic, I want one that also gives space for queer readers to feel like their pain is seen too. Conner isn't "Truth, Justice and the American Way" he's famously "Truth, Justice, My Way".
There's a tendency in media criticism to treat marginalized talent as infallible, and I don't think that fair to creatives like Visaggio. Being able to look at their ideas with nuance instead of essentializing it as being Good or Trash is the best way to respect diverse creativity. And my nuanced feelings are that a white queer person who looks at Conner's story and just sees the queer part and dismisses the diaspora mixed heritage side of him,,, is not going to give me the Conner story I want to see.
#askjesncin#superboy#kon el#conner kent#jesncin dc meta#media criticism#the thing about conner superboy is that his character is a mess#and I love a mess. I could talk about mess all day#this is a long way of saying that white queer people will never be able to give me the queer stories i need
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