#hint: its not “white cultures”

[commiearabgirll]

"Women's rights in cultures that barley considered women people" which cultures are you referring to, op? WHICH CULTURES ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT MOTHERFUCKER??

without irony: we have got to start feeding these freaks to lions again

[lionblaze03-2]

idk about anyone else but for me /personally/ assigning any of the wof dragon tribes a single equivalent human culture or accent feels kind of weird or off. Unless you’re like. Specifically from that culture and know what you’re interpreting

like sure the ‘nightwings are British because they’re voiced that way in the audiobooks’ is funny at first but I once saw a post break down the accents by tribe and assign sandwings a Nigerian accent. Which IMMEDIATELY makes the fact that they’re commonly rogues and thieves in the story not a fun cowboy thing but a vaguely racist thing suggesting that all Nigerian people scam and steal, which. Given the ‘Nigerian prince’ thing is already a stereotype, well…-

and it definitely isn’t JUST that, I’m not trying to call a single person out. But these kind of 1-1 correlations lead to results like this 9/10 times and it just feels strange. Just mix stuff together. Mash ideas from different places into one. Don’t make the dragons a 1-1 parallel to a specific human culture because then any story you tell that may connect to a stereotype of that culture will come off really, really bad

[shoezuki]

I constantly feel guilty about being native but not Native Enough both in terms of 'blood quantity' and just generally how detached me and my family is from our ancestral culture and its such a horrible feeling.

Like. I never got to listen to elders tell stories as a kid and theres no foods thats been passed down in my family and i know nearly nothing about my bloodline past my great grandpa and theres no traditions or customs we carry on or even know about. Instead of growing up learning our history and our culture my mom would tell me about how she would be punished for even calling herself native. Like. Idk i feel like im just an outsider trying to interject myself were i dont belong.

My professor today is metis like me and she said how its a metis belief not to brush or even touch someone's hair unless their mind and soul is free of any negativity and i had never heard of that before. Can i even call myself metis or native if i dont know the traditions and customs im supposed to have.

[thatneoncrisis]

i wrote a big long essay talking about tlt and how it engages with describing the skintones of brown characters its under a read more bc it is so long.

I already left a long comment about this on someone else post but I wish I could study tazmuirs odd little habit of dancing around the fact that Gideon and Harrow are women of color when she describes them, and how this kind of extends to other brown characters

We get a million descriptions for how sickly pale ianthe Silas and cytherea are, what a lovely golden tan corona has, the odd tannish yellow hue of colum, all imagined by her, in her own words, to be white. Then when it comes to Marta and Judith they're called dark like Once in the text. I don't think it's even mentioned for Jeannemary and magnus in the entirety of gtn though I will gladly stand corrected if I missed something. It's such a non factor for them, which normally I would overlook if it wasn't for the aforementioned specificity of how white characters are described on Top of one of the major themes of the book being how John, a Maori man, resurrected a largely Polynesian population and then proceed to rule them using the exact same methods that actively colonized new zealand. Like I just think it's really interesting that in many ways, the story is about two young Maori women completely stripped of cultural heritage, they can't even speak te reo maori they cannot even conceptualize the scale of that kind of loss. Theyve been to earth once and during her brief time there Gideon literally died on it's soil it feels so poignant

Back to them specifically being Not Pale, this is not me saying they would be "less" maori if they were light-skinned that's total bullshit and the entire paradigm exists as a product of European bullshit. My fascination is more with the fact that tamsyn has clearly thought of them as midtoned to dark skinned. I'm going to be really generous and disregard the Tommy Arnold covers- he is a talented artist but he's not the author and Taz stated in an interview that she didn't envision Gideon with an undercut either so he clearly has little liberties he can take and I'm fine with that get your coin dude. For these two I'm going to have to focus on Nona the Ninth, bc for the entirety of gtn, harrow is described as grey, and while I understand that's bc she's constantly under a mountain of white and black facepaint, we basically never get an objective description for either of them. Gideon stand out features are her build, hair and eyes, like a lot of characters, but it could have been pretty easy to throw in a line about how she seems less desaturated than what one might expect from a ninth cavalier, like a rich warm brown, possibly hinting to other characters that she isn't a ninth native

Htn also gives very little to work with, again harrows primary colors are the blacks whites and greys of facepaint and her hair and the reds of constantly sweating blood. The character who's darker skintone is Most remarked upon (also one of the few ever constantly headcanoned) as black, is g1deon. I've actually spoken to a few people about this and there seems to be some actual Mandela effect shit going on where people remember Taz saying he's black despite me never once finding evidence for this. However, this is not a case where I'd be overjoyed to be proven wrong, because g1deon being the one black guy in this entire cast, the one who's dark skintone is commented on the most, being the guy who barely speaks, tries killing harrow with a spear 14 times and then dies offscreen. Not good. Bad, actually

Finally onto ntn, in the beginning chapters Nona remarks her (harrows) skintone is the color of an egg carton. I assume she means the light tan, desaturated brown of the cardboard used in certain cartons, which is fitting for harrow, girls lived in an ice cave for 17 years. This is basically the only word we get on it. I believe a few times the text will say something about pyrrha's (g1deon's) brown Everything; brown skin, russet brown hair, rich brown eyes. that character gets to be viewed and constantly affirmed as a brown character in teh way gideon and harrow arent, it kind of others pyrrha. to contrast camillas hands are called tanned way at the beginning while recording nona's dream, then at the way end it says, "Her face still looked grey beneath its nice normal olive," olive being used to describe her once before in gtn as far as i can see. pyrrha's (g1deon's) skintone is one of her most notable features, its brought up to a noticeable agree the text wants you to keep it in your mind when you think of the saint of duty; "Most of Pyrrha was the colours of the building site: deep dried-out browns, dusty hunks of clay, rusted metal." "Pyrrha wouldn’t burn any colour other than her deep cool brown." "Nona took the water from Pyrrha’s brown, work-chapped hand and even sipped it" "Pyrrha had carried Camilla to bed in her big brown arms like Cam weighed nothing" "Pyrrha said, “Thanks, Nums,” and drained the whole thing. Nona,fascinated, watched the brown column of her throat move as she swallowed." its just notable to me when alternatively with nona you'll get a line like "Camilla didn’t say anything to that either, only rubbed her wrists where the tape had been. Nona’s skin was already back to its nice normal colour." like just the vagueness in nice normal color, we get one line about what shes supposed to look like in the beginning and thats it

towards the end during the broadcast, nona gets her first clear look at kiriona, described as: "warm-coloured skin that should have been a similar brown hue to Nona’s, except that there was something wrong with it." break out the champagne its official

Obviously, dying takes some color from you. If anything, gideons desaturation should make them More comparable given the egg carton comment and harrows general state of constant anemia. Has Nona gotten darker during her time on new rho? Was Gideon lighter than the cover led us to believe? We don't know. We well never know, which is odd, bc these books fucking love purple prose about people's appearances. We have like seven different synonyms for the shade of ianthes hair. New words for black have to be invented in order to convey harrows eyes which are Black, not the dark muddy brown of someone like ortus. It's less that I'm bothered by the text not hyperfocusing on their skin and more it picking and choosing when it will laser focus on a detail like that, and how often it's skipped over to the point that I like, constantly see people draw harrow as incredibly pale, which is very different from being light-skinned

Finally, I know people can dismiss this as like an audience interpretation thing. I know I actively draw harrow darker than Gideon which I know isn't canon. But this is less about Fandom response to the text and more the text itself and how it's like. Afraid to say brown. near the end of ntn i found One instance of it referring to gideons "slim brown hand" on nonas cheek and that is direct as it gets. even her other like, strongly non european traits are sort of danced around. her nose is "a nose that was the complete opposite of Nona’s nose, one that put her in mind of those big poison desert cats Born in the Morning was crazy about." a very fanciful description, you have to infer that nona means that its probably flat and wide, also giving us the information that harrows is most likely narrow and straight, possibly downturned. im not opposed to this, especially given the character talking about her is nona, but then you get the following paragraph:

"Her skin was very much dead-person skin, ashen and tinted the wrong colour around the nostrils and the mouth. But even if she hadn’t been dead, Nona was critical. Her eyelashes were very dark, but short and curly, whereas Nona thought all eyelashes should be long and straight (her own eyelashes were long and straight). The corpse had too much mouth and a dimple (nobody in her home had a dimple). You could not, at least, see the veins in her eyelids, which were heavy and cold and deep-set. But Nona thought it was going to be a shame to go from being so lovely as she was to being so—redheaded."

its a very frank description. dimple, curly lashes, red head, dead skin, probably a wide mouth. her nose is contrasted against nonas nose, which is also never directly described, and then compared to a fantasy animal we have never heard of until right now

kicks rocks. there isnt a point to this. the series is almost over, there is zero reason to like, knock on taz's door and ask why she did this or that. it doesnt stop me from loving the series, and the insinuation that noticing this means i must dislike the series is frankly insane (real thing that happened). if someone got the impression that harrow was white given how shes described i wouldnt blame them honestly, its most apparent she isnt in the third book (with the cover art being incredibly ambiguous) and a single blog post from taz mentioning shes maori, immediately followed by an "oh i dont care how you see the characters" addendum, which i think is like. an odd thing to tack on bc them descended from kiwis is like, very integral to the story, and gideon being the daughter of the maori man who took everything from her she didnt even know she could have and the (presumably, given her name and a very brief description) maori woman fighting to get that world back its like. damn. it feels a little important. that the audience knows theyre maori. like a little. it feels intertwined with the whole thing about john using european standards of imperialism and general aesthetics to hurt his own kid. actually.

[twentymuleteamborax]

People have commented how different the music I'll listen to is day to day before but for the past three weeks or so it's been exclusively Oi and Unsane

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate - (4)

First Case of Alpha Space

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 4 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 4,731

Work count for Story: 17,363

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I have had to take time off work to accommodate many MANY doctor appointments. I started a Ko-fi if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, Alpha Space, and Cultural differences.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Is it really that big of a deal that you got hurt? My god, you were 35 already. You have never lived a sheltered life. You have had your fair share of broken bones, twisted ankles, scrapes, and bruises. 

You are always going on adventures, riding horses, and climbing things you probably should not be climbing. Most of the external scars you bear are associated with stories that are good conversation starters when you feel like showing them. 

Things would be difficult for a while because you are undeniably right-handed. You have a few days of sick time saved up that you can use to start with. Hopefully, this will help you gain some compliance from your wayward left hand. 

Work, however, is going to be the hard part. Luckily, your work is typically done on electronics, meaning nothing has to be handwritten. Even if you tried to write left-handed, no one could read it. You would bet money doctors had better handwriting skills than your left hand did in its pinky. Dictation software to save the day!

Hearing Derek’s voice broke you out of your thoughts regarding your near future. Watching him act cautiously while interacting with the other hybrid was interesting. There is clearly a difference in how he acts with Yoongi than with Evie.

Giggling to yourself at the mention of being a mate with Derek gains the attention of both. Shaking your head, you explain, “Oh, sorry. The thought of being a mate, much less to Derek, was amusing, I guess.” 

You missed the slight frown that briefly graced both men’s faces. Derek thought you were implying he wasn’t mate-material, and Yoongi thought you believed you were not worthy of being a mate.

“Thanks, Y/n. I let you know that I am a catch despite being a Beta. Besides, this isn’t about me right now. We need to get the leadership involved with what to do moving forward. Are you okay if we bring in the others?”

“Yes, please. I need to speak with Director Johnson, fill out an incident report… um or dictate an incident report, and then get to a doctor,” you agree. Attempting to stand up, you are blocked by the golden-yellow eyes that have not stopped watching your every move.

“Mr. Min, I need to get some things done and take care of my wrist,” you say with a hint of confusion because you know he knows that you need medical attention, but he isn’t letting you.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow, and a soft growl pours through the room, causing your eyes to widen. You look over your shoulder at Derek with a ‘what-the-F-did-I-do’ expression, only to be met with a smirk.

“Y/n, I don’t think you understand what is going on. You haven’t dealt with a situation like this before. You may love hybrids, but you still have limited interactions with our culture and this dynamic.” Walking backward toward the door, Derek continues, “With the state of mind that Mr. Min is in, it might be best if a packmate of his explains.”

Derek opens the break room door to face Hoseok, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook, all staring. “Oh, Hi there.”

Then, as if someone had turned the mute off, they all started talking simultaneously. 

“Is Yoongi-hyung dropped yet?”

“그 사람 괜찮아요?”

“Why does she still smell hurt?”

“Wait, wait, wait, please,” Derek puts his hands up, motioning to stop. "I do not know Korean, for one, and for two, Mr. Min has gone into full nonverbal Alpha Space, and I am not sure he will be coming out of it anytime soon. However, one of you should go in to handle the situation, and Y/n needs to talk with Director Johnson.”

At the mention of the director, a low growl came from Taehyung, causing Derek to take a step back and lower his eyes in an automatic response to a displeased Alpha.

The scent of calming leather gently flows over the group at the door as Namjoon steps forward. His mind is still reeling a million miles a second with you being their mate and you being injured. To top it off, Yoongi is on a deep level of Alpha Space.

“Sorry about that. I can come in, but the director is busy at the moment. He is dealing with the Playmates, your corporate office, and Manager Sejin,” apologizes Namjoon as he enters the room.

He follows Derek to where his packmate and Y/n are situated at a table. Taehyung and Jungkook follow quickly, sneaking in before the door closes all the way. They both kneel respectfully behind Yoongi. Their Alphas recognize that Yoongi is currently in charge of you, and it would be unwise to display anything that could be considered a threat by approaching you too quickly.

They both need to be close to you, and their instincts to be with their newly discovered but injured mate drive their actions. Looking you over for injuries, their eyes resting on your wrist with furrowed brows and set jaws. Taehyung’s eyes change to crystal blue as his tail flickers almost in time with Yoongi’s as he slips into Alpha Space. 

“Namjoon-hyung, Miss Y/n is hurt. She needs a hospital, I think,” Jungkook says, his ears standing straight up on his head, one-pointedly focused on you and the other twitching between his Prime Alpha and the door. 

“It is not that big of an issue, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, and Mr. Kim.” Looking up from the trio in front of you and addressing the Prime Alpha, “Sir, I have specific protocols to follow due to company procedure. I must talk with the Director.” 

A growl from one of the men in front of you freezes your words, unsure of what you did to cause their reactions. Internally, you groan because it seems all you get from them are growls as if you vex them more than humanly possible. 

“Miss Y/n, we have already talked to Director Johnson,” Namjoon says with a look of distaste. 

“He has been informed that you are now under the care of Bangtan Pack following hybrid customs,” Namjoon says. "It would be wise to refrain from talking about him at the moment; he did not leave a good impression with the pack.”

Your brows scrunch in confusion, making the hybrids want to coo at your cute face. Clearing his throat (aka his mind), Namjoon continues, “We have more pressing matters to attend to besides paperwork.” 

“You are injured, and we have to get you to a doctor. Manager Sejin is currently contacting one of our personal physicians that we normally use while on tour to have you treated.”

“What? Why would I use your doctor? I can just go to the local clinic,” you quick question. Your scent spikes almost like a heavy perfume with anxiety with the flashbacks of your nightmare. 

“Please, I have taken up much of your time, and caused enough problems as it is. I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bother,” you plead.

At your words, you are surrounded by multiple growls and watched by now golden-yellow, crystal blue, and smokey gray eyes. Scooting back in the chair as if the quarter inch gained would save you, you nervously ask, “Derek, what did I do?”

“Y/n, you really don’t get it do you? For as smart as you are, sometimes you can be oblivious,” Derek scoffs teasingly. Smiling, he shakes his head, stepping back from the group and heading towards the door. “Mr. Kim, as Prime Alpha, you might want to explain what is happening and what she should be expecting. Mind you, she has been fiercely independent for the last 15 years of her life.”

“I wish you the best with her. It won’t be easy, trust me, I know. Good luck,” says Derek as he bows slightly to Namjoon once he reaches the break room door.

Looking at you again, this time with a smile filled with adoration for his best friend and what he thinks your future may hold, Derek says, “Relax and have fun.” Then he turns and leaves the room. 

As Derek leaves the room, he smiles at the remaining pack guarding the door. “Mr. Kim, Mr. Jung, and Mr. Park, I think your human does not understand what is happening.”

“Our human? So, you know?” Seokjin questions with wide, cautious eyes.

Derek looks over his shoulder at the closed break room door. His mind conjures up all the ways this could go sideways, but he focuses on all the ways this could be the best thing for you.

“At first, I thought it was just a typical Alpha reaction with him being the cause of Y/n getting injured, but his care and gentleness seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Add on the fact that your other two are fighting Alpha Space. It would be hard to miss,” says the fox hybrid with a softness.

“The other two?” someone asks.

Shaking his head, Derek looks back at the remaining three, saying, “Yes, the younger Mr. Kim and Mr. Jeon’s Alphas surfaced just before I left. Your Prime Alpha is going to try to sort things out, but he may need some back up.”

“Meanwhile, I am going to find our boss and see what needs to be done before you all run away with her,” comments Derek, leaving the pack to mull over the new information.

“Tae has never been one to control his Alpha well when one of us is hurt. I am not surprised if he slipped once near her. Kook always runs on instinct too, so it makes sense he slipped as well,” Seokjin contemplates. 

“Should we stay out here? Miss Y/n’s pack member said it would be better to go in and help Namjoon? Three of us in Alpha space with an injured mate is not going to be easy,” Hoseok adds. 

Nibbling on his lower lip, Jimin thinks of ways to handle the situation. Even though he is one of the younger packmates, keeping the pack calm is his gift. 

He just doesn’t know how to handle you yet, especially since you don’t know what you mean to the pack.

“Good, at least three of you are here, and I assume the rest have made their way into the room with Miss Y/n,” Manager Sejin says while walking up to the group. “I have spoken with Big Hit, the Director at Playmate Service Incorporated, and Dr. Blackwell. Everyone is onboard and the doctor is ready to go.”

“Relax and have fun? What does he mean by that?” You mumble as you glare at the now-closed door that one of your best friends just shut. 

He willingly left you with four Alpha male idols. 

Three of them are kneeling on the floor with non-human eyes, and the Prime Alpha, looking around the room like the way to explain what's happening is painted on the walls.

Taking a breath, you say, “Mr. Kim, Prime Alpha… Sir. Derek is right. I have no actual experience with Alphas. I can tell that there must be some kind of instinctual drive going on, and there are trigger words or actions.”

“I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have. What do I do to make it easier for your pack?” you question.

At your words, the kneeling Alphas gave a multitude of pleasant chirps because you may not consciously know what to do but you are still acting like a baby mate. You looked at the three of them, a little confused. They seemingly smiled and made almost the same sound as when you said that.

Okay, so they can growl and chirp. Your curiosity spikes when you think of what other animal-like sounds they can make as hybrids.

Drawing your attention back to him, Namjoon finds the words to explain what is happening, “Miss Y/n, you have done so much to help the Bangtan Pack feel welcome today.”

With a gentle smile, he continues, “So please relax, you have not caused any trouble, and we highly doubt that you will.” 

He thought, ‘At least, not in the way you seem to be thinking.’

“Alpha’s run with a higher level of instinct than your Beta pack member. As an Alpha, Yoongi-hyung instinctually feels responsible for your injury. In order to calm that instinct, a few things will most likely need to happen.” Watching you sit up with interest, he continues, “First things first, he and his Alpha need to get at least your injury treated.”

“He has to be the one to take me to get it treated?” You start to ramble with concern, “I can’t have him go with me to the clinic! There are fans and sasaengs and the media! What about your schedule? You always hear about the tight schedules Idols have and you have already spent all afternoon here over this.”

You start panicking about the hordes of people you hear about following the band around. God, the amount of bad publicity would come from catching you and THE Suga of BTS at a clinic. You can’t imagine what nonsense they would come up with?

Your scent goes into an even heavier version; it takes on an almost alcoholic aspect. The kneeling Alphas instinctually send out calming pheromones while moving closer. 

Yoongi’s tail, still wrapped around your ankle, tightens while he gently rubs the back of your injured hand, which he is cradling protectively. He wiggles forward an inch or two to ensure you realize he is still there and isn’t going anywhere.

Taehyung starts to purr softly but loud enough for you to at least hear it. His mates have always found ease in their emotions and pain with his purring, so he hopes the sound will comfort you similarly.

Jungkook, running on instinct alone, scoots up to your left side, nudges his head under your left hand, and rests on your leg. Touch and cuddling are strong hybrid traits that naturally bring peace to most, and being a bunny hybrid, Jungkook loves to share his cuddles more than the others.

The feeling of Jungkook’s head on your leg snaps you out of your thoughts and brings you back into the room. You hold still as you start to recognize similar comforting behaviors the Alphas are doing with those that Evie always does, allowing you to take a deep breath.

“Sorry. I was raised to take care of myself and not impose on others,” you softly say.

“Miss Y/n, you are not imposing. Again, Yoongi-hyung ran into you while rushing out of the room, and it's his responsibility to make amends. Actually, as a bonded pack, it is our responsibility, too,” explains Namjoon.

“The pack? Like all of you? Is this why they are all like this, with their eyes and stuff?” you question with a scrunched face.

Absent-mindedly, you run your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, softly scratching his scalp, soothing not only yourself but also the youngest Alpha. 

A soft chuckle escapes Namjoon as he watches your instinctual interactions with the youngest mate. He answers, “Yes, that is the best way to explain the eyes and stuff, as you put it.”

“Jungkook-ah and Taehyung-ah will find it easier to leave their Alpha Space since they are not the ones responsible for the injury but trying to be supportive to both of you,” informs the Prime Alpha as you nod in understanding, which he thinks is you not really understanding but just going along with it.

Hearing a knock on the door, he calls, “Who is it?”

“Namjoon-ssi, it's Manager Sejin. I have some updates and a few questions. Can I enter?” a voice calls as the door opens slightly to reveal it’s him. 

At Namjoon's nod, he enters. The door remains open as the scents in the room are constricting in their density. He is followed by the rest of the pack, who take up guarding now from inside. With the mixed emotions in the scent-filled room, the Alphas worry that it will reach other hybrids who will come to investigate.

“Did you contact everyone?” asks Namjoon.

“Big Hit and the Corporate Director are on the same page and will follow the hybrid protocol, but details must be discussed once Miss Y/n has met with the doctor,” Manager Sejin reports to the Prime Alpha.

Moving to look at you, he continues, “I contacted Dr. Blackwell, thinking you may be more comfortable with a female doctor. We have her on retainer to work with some of the female back up dancers on the tour as well as the pack.” 

He glances at the boys surrounding you closely, noting the change in their eyes; his scent changes with curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, looking at Namjoon. With a subtle nod, he confirms that something more is happening but does not move to explain.

Looking back at you, he gently smiles, “With the situation at hand, it may be best to limit other males around you until everyone is out of Alpha space. They tend to get territorial. Dr. Blackwell is on standby, ready to assess and treat you once we know where you will be.”

You look at the manager like he is missing something, or maybe you are as you question, “Why wouldn’t she just come here, or I go to her?”

“Miss Y/n, Dr. Blackwell is a traveling physician. She doesn’t have a permanent office to use but she is well respected in both the human and hybrid communities.”

“Oh, I see. Well, umm…” you look at Namjoon and ask, “What option would be best for your pack?”

Namjoon’s chest puffs slightly at your show of respect to him as the Pack Prime Alpha despite the situation and your pain level. “Not to make you uncomfortable, Miss Y/n, but I think meeting Dr. Blackwell at our Airbnb would be best,” he answers.

You take a moment to think, your hand pulsing with pain now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off. They cannot all fit in your flat. Heck, it's barely big enough for you, Evie, and Derek to hang out in; plus, it's a mess after you tore through your closet to find the right clothes for today.

If the growls were any indication, they didn’t seem to like being at PMS. Instinctually, even Derek and Evie prefer being in their dens when one of the three of you is hurt or sick. Making your decision, you look at the manager and then Namjoon. “Okay. If it is best for the pack, I will go with you to the Airbnb to see Dr. Blackwell.” 

It’s almost as if a weight is lifted out of the room, allowing the pack to take a breath. 

“Alphas Yoon, Kook, and Tae. Can you give Miss Y/n some room? We have to take her to the pack house to see a doctor,” Namjoon says with a firm voice, gaining smiles from the men kneeling on the floor. 

Jungkook stands, quickly moving and curling into the Prime Alpha, his eyes returning to their natural color. Namjoon rubs his back, scenting him lightly to show his pride in the youngest Alpha’s actions to help soothe the baby mate.

Taehyung rocks back on his heels but remains close to you as his purring stops. His body is more relaxed, but his eyes are still crystal blue, shifting between Yoongi and you in wait.

After watching the two younger Alphas move around, your attention turns to the black jaguar kneeling with expectant, questioning eyes. He still cradles your hand as if it were his most precious possession, and his tail hasn’t moved from its coil around your ankle.

You tentatively ask, “Mr. Min, if I promise that you can stay with me, will you let me go get my things, and then you can take me to your pack house?”

Yoongi’s face lights up with a gummy smile as he nods. Your breath hitches at the sight. How can the devastatingly rogue-like handsome rapper look so adorable?

He stands up, his tail unwrapping from your leg. He softly takes both of your hands while he assists you in standing. You smile and mumble a small thanks as you step forward to leave but pause, turning to Namjoon.

“Prime Alpha, do you think I can talk with Derek briefly to let him know what is happening? This way, he can talk to the direc… Boss. Talk to the boss and let him know that I am leaving for the day?” you ask, but your voice is firm as if you were telling the Prime Alpha what needs to happen without blatantly taking control of the situation.

“Yes, talking to him will be fine. He has been established as part of your familial pack and won’t be considered a threat to the pack if he comes around you now,” Namjoon answers, moving out of your way and motioning for the rest to let you pass.

Bowing slightly, “Thank you, Prime Alpha.”

Making it to your desk is apparently more complicated than one would think. 

Yoongi won’t leave your right side, while Taehyung won’t leave your left. Both act like it's code red, and someone is trying to assassinate you. Then, the rest of BTS trails behind like some kind of posse. 

You keep your head down to avoid any strange looks or glares from whomever you pass. To your relief, you find Derek waiting at your desk with his head resting on his palms and a mischievous smile. 

“I see you are taking things in stride,” glancing at your plethora of bodyguards. “Did the Prime Alpha explain everything to you?”

Speaking up from the back of the group, Namjoon answers for you: “She is aware that we are responsible for her at this time, and she will be treated by our doctor at our temporary pack house.”

You don’t miss Derek's look of concern as he tilts his head with curiosity at Namjoon. “I see, of course. You are just responsible for getting her treated. Hybrid customs and all.”

“Derek, can you please let the big boss know that I will be leaving with Bangtan Pack to seek medical care and once I have more updates, I will let you both know?” 

Glancing at Yoongi and still seeing his lovely golden-yellow eyes, you try to ignore the slight flutter in your stomach, “I don’t think it would be good for me to talk with him myself right now.”

Derek nods in response, “Manager Sejin has already given the boss a rough time frame for the near future. I suppose his managing skills came in handy. Don’t worry about us here, we will get a temp while you heal.”

Standing up, Derek passes you your purse, which Taehyung takes. You try to grab it again, but only to have a black and white tail wrap around your arm and bring it back down to your side.

“No carry. Keep safe.” Taehyung almost grunts out in a deeper-than-deep voice, which short-circuits your brain. You knew he was the deep voice of the group, but that was not his singing voice.

Glancing at Derek out of the side of your eye, you see him briefly nod and smile encouragingly while he whispers, “It’s an Alpha Space thing. Best acknowledge his help.”

“Umm… Th-tha-hank you, Alpha,” you stammer out, willing the heat creeping up your neck to stop as your words pull a boxy grin from the Tiger hybrid.

“I think that is it,” you announce to nobody in particular. You smile awkwardly at Derek as he seemingly takes you in like he has never seen you before.

“Y/n, you have been through so much. Not just today but in your life. You have always been the one to take the blame for others, working harder or longer than anyone else and caring for those who never return the favor,” he says, his eyes glance at the men surrounding you as he sees nods of understanding and looks of concern from them.

As a soft smile blooms on his face, he holds onto your good hand, “Take time for yourself and let this pack of Alphas take care of you. You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”

He pulls you into a hug. You briefly stiffen, waiting for the growling and pulling to start, but to your surprise, it doesn't. Relaxing into his hug, you take his words to heart.

A soft whisper in your ear: “You know you will always have Evie and me as your family pack, but right now, be open to the pack around you. " With one last squeeze, Derek steps back and returns to your desk. "Now, shoo! Off you go. The boss said I’ll get to man the front desk for now.”

With a nod, you wave goodbye and face the hybrids behind you. After not finding Manager Sejin and a few others missing, your eyes settle automatically on Namjoon. With a slight frown, you wait for a clue as to what to do next.

“Manager Sejin went down to get the cars. Seokjin-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, and Jimin-ah also went down because we won’t all fit in the elevator,” reassures Namjoon.

“Oh,” you feel a slight tightening in your chest after realizing you didn’t even notice they had gone.

“Miss Y/n, let's take you to get looked at,” Jungkook says while inching towards the office doors. His Alpha wanting to get you away from the hallway that leads to the offices where he knows the Playmates who hurt you are being kept.

You follow the bunny and wolf hybrid while still sandwiched between the tiger and jaguar hybrids. Walking through the halls, you gain some attention from the people you pass. You’re a mere human surrounded by some of the hottest Idols in the world right now. So why wouldn’t they?

Not willing to look up, you keep your eyes cast down to the feet in front of you as you try to avoid what you are a gazillion percent sure are looks of disgust and hate toward you. Normally, you can walk the halls without drawing attention unless Reina is around. While Reina made sure everyone noticed you in a negative way, you fail to notice the glaring looks of the Alphas surrounding you, which has silenced most of the current gossiping.

Once the elevator doors open, the tiger lets out a low growl. Glancing up, you see two fellow PMS employees quickly scamper out of the elevator and down the hall. Well, that is another embarrassing incident that you will have to deal with when you return to work.

Namjoon and Jungkook take the back corners. Looking at the men by your sides, they motion for you into the elevator next. However, when you go to stand in another corner, you are quickly ushered back into the middle with Yoongi and Taehyung in front of you. 

The tense energy calms down as the doors close. The threats in the hallway, the Playmate enemies, and the bumbling director are no longer a concern. The four Alphas relax now that they are the only ones to surround you and are taking care of you. 

Even if your trust in them starts with an injury, they know this is their chance to show you what it means to be taken care of, acknowledged as precious, and loved endlessly by the seven of them. 

As the elevator doors part, you're immediately greeted by the remaining packmates waiting for you, smiles warm and welcoming. They're surrounded by more men in black, whom you assume are bodyguards. The sheer amount of people outside the elevator is a bit intimidating.

Turning to look at you, Yoongi speaks for the first time since he entered Alpha Space, “Take home. Keep safe.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @staytinyville @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop @m00njinnie @drenix004 @singukieee @avadakadabra93 @dazzlingjade @sehun096rainbow @sunshinecallie

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 16/∞

LUO BINGHE HAS A "STEREOTYPICALLY MASCULINE" APPEARANCE

Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING

In fanworks, Luo Binghe is often portrayed as particularly muscular and buff, broad-shouldered, often with tanned skin and sharply-defined features-- all traits that are considered to be stereotypically masculine in the west.

All of this directly contradicts his canonical description.

Necessary disclaimer: I'm not talking against depicting Luo Binghe with a naturally darker skin tone. While that still contradicts the canonical description, I can understand going against colorism (something very rampant in east asian beauty standards!) in fanworks. This sort of discussion is particularly toward those who portray him as fair-skinned on Qing Jing Peak, darker skinned after the abyss, hence "tanned." While this sort of thing might have issues of its own, that's also not the topic of this post, and as a light-skinned Asian person, I don't feel particularly qualified to talk about it.

In truth, deep down, Bing-ge’s fair and clean pretty-boy type didn’t really suit the tastes of “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky.... The art of growing stallions was grounded in science, and the research was clear: women preferred men who looked cultured, pretty, and even a bit soft and feminine. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

The buff and bulky Luo Binghe often seen in fanworks is not what I would consider to be cultured, pretty, soft, and feminine.

Luo Binghe is described this way just before the conference:

A seventeen-year-old youth, slim and tall and graceful, dressed in white robes, lips turned upward in the hint of a smile, gazed at him with a pair of shining eyes. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

And again after his return:

The other party was a little taller than [Shen Qingqiu], slender and willowy, dressed in clothes as black as ink that exposed only a fair neck.  (7 Seas, Ch. 7)

And a description of his hands later on:

That hand was slender and unadorned. It didn’t look like the hand of a young lord of the demon race who had already taken countless lives, but rather one whose master had been born to pluck strings, his hand to burn incense and bathe in snow. (7 Seas, Ch. 14)

Consistantly, Luo Binghe is depicted this way-- slender and refined, with fair skin and a softness to his appearance that contradicts his actions.

Furthermore, Luo Binghe is also described as looking very similar to his mother:

Luo Binghe was beautiful, and he looked quite like his birth mother. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

and

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago. Luo Binghe’s appearance is seven-tenths identical to his mother’s.  (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

As for Su Xiyan's appearance, not much is directly stated-- it can be inferred that she likewise looked quite similar to Luo Binghe, but the only description of her physical appearance that we have is found here:

Even if she wasn’t burly and heavyset, she should at least look like a martial arts master with fierce and ferocious eyes. For all that, when he finally met the culprit behind Tianlang-Jun’s bout of philosophical soul-searching, which had tormented Zhuzhi-Lang for many days, he realized that the culprit in question was not quite like what he’d envisioned... ... Just as these two tourists were standing penniless in the street, a tall woman dressed in black strolled by, sword on her back. (7 Seas, Ch. 25)

The only positive descriptor here is that she is tall, but it can also be implied that she does not have the appearance of a martial arts master, and did not look as fierce and ferocious as Zhuzhi-lang expected, especially in terms of her eyes. However, she is described as a cold person-- whether or not that carried over into her appearance, though, is up for debate.

Su Xiyan's eyes are another matter for discussion--

In appearance, Luo Binghe resembled his mother Su Xiyan, but you could more or less see the shadow of his father in him. For example, in the eyes. Tianlang-Jun’s eyes were deep-set, his brow strong and heroic, the irises dark like fathomless water. In this, he and Luo Binghe were very much alike. Luo Binghe had a pretty boy appearance in the first place, but if his eyes had resembled his mother’s too, his face would have been excessively feminine and the effect would be lost. (7 Seas, Ch. 15)

Here, specifically, Luo Binghe is noted as having his father's strong brow and deep-set eyes, as opposed to his mothers, which based on this passage were most likely to be round, soft, and "feminine"-looking. It's also interesting to see that if not for having his father's eyes, Luo Binghe's features would be "excessively feminine," therefore implying that the softer look applies to all parts of his face except for his eyes and brows.

(thanks to @furbygoblinxiv , @bijoumikhawal for bringing up this point)

So, Luo Binghe is a lithe and petite pretty-boy. Nonetheless, he is still notably muscular. Specifically with a surprising amount of lean muscle-- something that Shen Qingqiu actually remarks on:

Luo Binghe was on top, and Shen Qingqiu was on the bottom, so he was smushed under a considerable weight and almost unable to draw another breath. What had this child been eating?! He looked quite slim, so how was he this heavy?! ... A person’s abdomen is supposed to be the softest spot on their body, but Luo Binghe’s was uncomfortably hard against Shen Qingqiu’s stomach. The farther down he pulled him, the more he was sure that Luo Binghe had an eight-pack. Was that a rock slab down there? (7 Seas, Ch. 16)

(thanks to @verycharismaticdragon for bringing up this point)

As for where the fan depiction of buff, tanned, "hyper-masculine" Luo Binghe may have originated?

I'm not certain where the first such depiction came from, but as for the logic behind it, such phenomena could be explained as thinking of Luo Binghe, the stallion protagonist, as having an "ideal masculine" appearance.

For western audiences and beauty standards, this would certainly be that same sort of muscular, tall, with tanned skin and defined features. Naturally, when first thinking of what a "stereotype of an ideal man" would look like, these traits would come to mind to a western audience.

It is a bit different in eastern standards. While muscular appearances can still be favored, lean muscle is vastly, vastly preferred over bulky muscle, and fair skin, which represents elegance and status (as those with fair skin tones are perceived as those who are wealthy, and do not need to work outdoors) is preferred over tanned skin. This is, of course, a generalization-- but as a representation of ideal masculinity, Luo Binghe's appearance would also be a generalization.

Particularly, Luo Binghe's figure and appearance is described not as those favored by men for themselves, but as those favored aesthetically by women. Therefore, that gentle, refined appearance is a must.

While western vs eastern beauty standards may play a role in this, it is also possible that western vs eastern character design standards may also be coming into play. While in eastern character design, things such as color and style of clothing and hair play a very large role in creating visual contrast, in terms of western designs, body shape and style, along with hair shape and style, seem to be far more important, with the idea that a character should be recognizable by silhouette alone. This may lead to western-trained artists, and also those who grew up watching primarily western cartoons, unconsciously applying those same standards to their own design-- such as making Luo Binghe broader-shouldered and with rounder shapes, the "heroic" type character design, in contrast to sharper, narrower shapes for Shen Qingqiu, the "villain" type character design.

(thanks to @gaywarcriminals , @mu-qingfang-stan-account , @temporoom for bringing up this explanation)

One additional possible reason would be the potential for heteronormative/"het-coding" standards being applied to a gay relationship, where the gong is being given more "traditionally masculine" features in order to align with gender roles. This is something that is fairly common in BL/MLM shipping and designs in general, so it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that it might apply in some fashion to Luo Binghe's fan-design as well (Note, this does not apply to actual fem/masc mlm pairs, because those do exist and it isn't always about heteronormativity. This is specifically referring to taking characters with roughly similar build like SQQ and LBH and making their designs distinctly more masc/fem based on who tops and who bottoms).

(thanks to @mysteryteacup and @gurggggleburgle for bringing this up)

As for the true source of these design elements, it probably cannot be narrowed down to just one-- rather, it would be an amalgamation of bits and pieces of all of the above, as well as the popularity and spread of certain designs throughout the fandom and artists taking inspiration from one another.

So often i've seen that Luo Binghe's bulk and muscles are shown as key traits of his physical appearance, despite the fact that this directly contradicts his actual depiction in the novel. Thus, it is inaccurate to depict him this way.

Luo Binghe's canonical body type and build is tall, slender, and willowy with lean musculature, and his features are soft and a bit effeminate. The best example I could give for reference would be to base his body type off of a pretty-boy type idol.

Of course, fanartists are perfectly free to continue drawing him however they please, but it should not be assumed that a Luo Binghe with bulky musculature, tanned skin, and sharp features is a canon-compliant depiction.

Luo Binghe is a pretty-boy.

[soobnny]

loving is terrifying — han jisung. best friends to lovers. accidental confessions (1.6k words)

in the midst of ranting, han jisung accidentally confesses he’s in love with you

“And if I burn the whole school down, would you bail me out of jail, Hanji?”

You’re still only a few sentences into the important speech you were asked to write, and you’re starting to feel agitated, chewed up pencil carving out your thoughts on paper before finding its way abandoned on your desk.

It’s been a few hours, and you’d chosen to put the pencil down lest you want to bring yourself to insanity.

Pretty lies usually come easy to you, but now they’re burning holes into your skull and flicking the ashes into your brain. In the reprieve, all you can think about is your anger for the authority.

“Bold of you to assume I won’t be your accomplice.” Jisung retorts from where he’s seated next to you on the floor, arms crossed behind his head as he leans against his couch.

“There’s just so much wrong in the system. Their code of rules deprive students of their creativity. Only the top students have a multitude of opportunities waiting for them. And don’t get me started on how the authorities put so little value into culture and societal issues. Everything is wrong, just wrong in all ways!”

There’s a word count in Jisung’s head on how many times you’ve said wrong in one sitting, but he’s looking at you with a hint of something in his eyes. Almost adoration.

“And we can change it by burning the school down?” A tone of amusement is laced in your best friend’s voice, though you fail to search for a trace of judgment.

“We can start there. Then the world.” You take the pencil back and fiddle with it between your fingers.

“The world? That’s very ambitious of you.”

You glare at him.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t be by your side. I like ambitious.” Jisung smiles at you, making sure to lock his eyes with yours so you can see heavy genuineness where his pupils are. “What’s the next step then?”

“Climate change.”

Jisung throws his head back in quiet laughter, and the slight movement allows you a whip of his laundry detergent from the white shirt he’s wearing. “Okay, climate change.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” His lips quirk up into a smile, eyes morphing from crescents to a full moon as he struggles to defend his name. There is still laughter even in the way he licks the inside of his cheek and takes your hands in his.

You fail to copy his laughter.

“Your eyes are upset. Are they directed at me?” Jisung softens his voice, only speaking one his laughter has boiled down. He pulls you closer than you already are, and you don’t notice the way he grabs the pencil between your fingers in the process to set it down.

“Of course not.” You mumble. “I’m mad at everything else, at everything wrong.”

A tally adds to his word count.

You sigh when you let go of his hands to take the paper in your own, eyes leaden as they scan across the sentences you had bullshited earlier. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to write this.”

“Just scream it out.”

“What?”

“Scream out what you actually want to say.” He grins.

You gape at him.

“I’m not screaming in your living room. Your neighbors are going to think someone’s being murdered.”

“Then just say it. Whatever you want to say. Everything wrong.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay, I’ll start then.” He smiles, and it’s heart-warmingly encouraging. “I wish it was easier to ground myself. I live in my head most of the time, and opening up is hard, and I wish forming any form of relationship wasn’t so scary.”

“Ji—“

“Okay, now your turn.”

“We are not going to ignore what you just said.”

“I said, your turn.”

“Jisung.”

“Please?” He places a hand over yours, and it’s enough for your brain to short circuit.

“Alright, fine. But we are going to talk about it later.”

“Now, what about those things that are wrong?” Jisung asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“Well, uh— our poor education system, that’s for one. And, the government. Blatant sexism too, how stupid the patriarchy is, how I still can’t parallel park for the life of me.”

You start with sporadic things, the ones that instantly pop in your head when you think about things that make you upset, and as you continue to talk, you dig a little deeper, and you don’t even realize you’ve stood up and your hands are flailing around like a salesman by the second.

“And, don’t even get me started on the transportation system. It’s so dumb how car-centered design came to be because how is it that the people who have access to private vehicles also have the easiest routes over the less fortunate who walk or commute? Like, why do we have to adjust to the roads?”

There’s a long list of things you want to say, finally letting loose and narrating all the things you’ve kept locked away in the back of your mind because you’re with the one person you can trust. When you meet Jisung’s gaze, he’s looking at you in awe.

“I hate how we’re branded as prodigies when we were younger. I hate the expectations that come with it, that we have to be great all the time, and, oh, this actually feels really good.”

Jisung chuckles at the way you come to a sudden realization, but he’s always known you were wiser beyond your years. “You’re brilliant.”

“Well, you have to say something too!”

Jisung fiddles with his fingers, trying to think of where to start. Though, the brilliance that is you and the opportunity of having this moment with you is enough motivation for him to follow suit.

“Uh, it’s so scary how superficial people are nowadays, and how so quickly they’re let down. It stresses me out how a single mistake could cost you so many relationships, but at the same time, who will stress out if not me? And it makes me realize how lucky I am to have the people in my life, and having an opportunity to talk like this really fuels my positivity in life, and it makes me realize even more how much I strongly feel like my life is for you guys, and there is nothing more important to me than being able to be a good person for you guys, like you. I wish I could be the bestest friend for you, maybe even more than that, but fuck, loving is so scary so I wish you’ll never find out how I’m so so in love with you— wait.”

The room falls silent and he’s thinking of a thousand different ways to die on the spot. He’s embarrassed. This is embarrassing, and he’s thinking it really wouldn’t be too late to jump off the bedroom window and hope for the best. A thousand different ways, maybe pretend he never said anything, stand still and maybe you’d think he wasn’t there in the first place. A thousand different ways.

“Han Jisung.”

“Soooo, haha, where were we in your speech again?”

Jisung doesn’t meet your eyes for the fear of rejection. He doesn’t think he has the heart to handle it right now, especially not after his accidental confession.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About how superficial people are? Of course, it’s so scary. Hey, did I tell you about the tim—“

“Is being in love with me something wrong?”

He falls silent, and you can visibly see him start to panic, and his hands are pressed together as if in a prayer as he’s shaking his head profusely. “No, oh god no, it’s not. Honestly, it’s one of the only things I’m sure of, and that says a lot because I’m not sure of anything. I’m not even sure I’m in the right course or the right school or if I’m spending my money the right way, or if I’m even gonna live tomorrow, but fuck, loving you and everything about you is something I will never question.”

You can feel yourself start to smile, and Jisung finds himself copying you. It’s one of the first things he knew he loved about you—your smile, and the way you think, and the sound of your laughter. Despite his erratic heart beating and his fear of this exact moment, he still finds himself smiling when you do.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“What?”

You can visibly see the gears in his head turn, and he’s writing a story he doesn’t know the ending to just yet, but the beginning is so beautiful because it’s with you. Then, he laughs. It’s breathy, and you can almost hear the relief. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I did.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“I’m in love with you, Han Jisung.”

“I’m going to die.”

You laugh, and then he snaps back into reality.

“Can I kiss you?” His tone is so careful, but there’s a hint of something you can only recognize as a slight desperation—like he’s been thinking of it a while.

Jisung reaches out to wrap his arms around your waist, albeit a little shy. It’s a pattern that’s already so familiar. He isn’t a stranger to hugging you, in fact, he’s done it a million times, but the connotations to this one is a little different, and he can’t think straight at the possibility that you might actually consent to letting him kiss you.

“Okay.”

Words that haven’t left being translated into the motion of his lips moving against yours. Honestly, he doesn’t even know who went in for the kiss first. All he knows is his hands are gently rested on your waist and he’s actually kissing you right now, and you can feel the way he’s smiling into the kiss.

It takes a few minutes for you two to pull away, a little out of breath, and he leans in to try and kiss you again but your noses bump against each other’s, and the pair of you can’t help but laugh at how the events of the night had turned.

Jisung marvels at the way everything feels so simple, so right.

“I’m not dreaming, right? Like this is actually happening?”

You laugh even more.

Jisung’s always been afraid of venturing into the unknown, always kept his feelings hidden, and he’s always loathed his mouth for being so uncontrolled with the things he says. But now, with you in his arms, he couldn’t be any more happier about the slip of his tongue and how being with you feels like one of the rare rights among all the wrongs.

[cerebralisis]

I decided to make my analysis of So High School into a separate post, because I can’t help but think of this song every time I see photos of Taylor at the games. And sure, it sounds like a love song on the surface until you remember that Taylor was bullied in high school and start to dig a little deeper. Feeling "so high school" is not something a 34 year old woman wants to feel.

Let’s look at the lyrics.

"I'm sinking, our fingers entwined, cheeks pink in the twinkling lights" = To me this sounds like drowning, embarrassment, and diving in with the sharks

"Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me" = You mean her first Chiefs appearance when they 'slid off in the getaway car' at the end? Nothing good starts in a getaway car, babes.

"I'll drink what you think and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night" = I mean...

“I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night" = What do we know about this movie? We know that it is renowned for its high school immaturity and misogyny. It’s about a bunch of horny boneheaded men who treat women like sex objects instead of people. Sounds a lot like football culture to me.

"Your friends are around so be quiet. I'm trying to stifle my sighs." = I'm in the box with your friends and family. I need to hold it together so I don't offend them, but I legit hate this.

"Cause I feel so high school" = SHE HATES THIS.

"Bittersweet 16 suddenly" = I don't think she was a fan of high school, you guys.

"Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game but really, I'm betting on all 3." = A clear reference to that kiss/marry/kill interview with Travis, while also saying "we're gonna get together, put on a show for everyone, and I'm going to slowly die inside until we're done."

"Get my car door, isn't that sweet. Now pull me to the backseat" = All I hear with this is Movie Director Taylor giving instructions to her leading man so they can get a good reaction from the audience.

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle." = You're a jock. I'm a nerd. We are not compatible.

"Touch me while your bros play grand theft auto." = The official song lyrics on Spotify put grand theft auto in lowercase the first time and capitalized the second time. The capitalized GTA could refer to Travis's friends playing the video game, sure. But also - you know who was arrested in August 2023 for grand theft auto? Bashaud Breeland, a cornerback for the Kansas City Chiefs who played with Travis in the 2020 Super Bowl.

"It's true, swear, Scout's Honor" = Look it up, I dare you.

And my absolute favorite:

"On the brink of a wrinkle in time" = This is TTPD, folks. Of course there's going to be a literary reference. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. The main character is a girl named Meg who is incredibly bright but struggles in school because she doesn't fit in with the other kids. After meeting a trio of badass witchy women, Meg travels to far-off worlds (a sort of deep portal time travel, you might say) where she joins the battle of light vs. darkness. What do we know about Taylor’s usage of light and darkness throughout her discography? It's giving… Reputation vs. Daylight? Shrouded in secrecy vs. out in the open? Based on everything else that Taylor has been hinting at through TTPD (not to mention Evermore and Midnights), it sounds like she is on the verge of diving into a much larger battle. And if I had to guess, I would bet that this battle will start during the Reputation re-release. Around Halloween. 🎃 When exile ends. Almost exactly 2 years after the Bejeweled music video was released. Maybe the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now cause she's dead?

I'm just speculating, but I will add that the 3rd book in the Time series is called A Swiftly Tilting Planet. There is a poem referenced through the book that goes like this:

With Ananda in this fateful hour, I place all Heaven with its power, And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along its path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness, And the Earth with its starkness, All these I place with God's almighty help and grace between myself and the powers of darkness.

The word ‘Ananda’ mentioned above is the name of a character in the book, which is significant to the story because it’s a Sanskrit word that describes the eternal bliss that accompanies the ending of the rebirth cycle. If this series is what Taylor is referencing then it’s sounding more and more like she’s going to kill off Taylor TM and be done with the games, done with the reinvention. The plot summary of A Swiftly Tilting Planet says that it’s a book about "going back in time and changing might-have-beens." What decisions would she have made differently if she could do it all over again?

I don't know, friends. Take from this what you will. All I know is, this woman and all her brilliant duality is going to send me to a padded room. ✌🏻

[jewish-vents]

I am about ready to scream at goyim going "imagine if a country that was mostly one religion committed genocide other than Israel! imagine any other country being that awful!" I AM JEWISH AND CHOCTAW. My people have been massacred, forced off our land, raped, beaten, killed, death marched down to Oklahoma, forced into residential schools, been denied tribal membership and access to the reservation (and our own fucking culture) for being too light-skinned, Christians came in and beat and killed and raped everyone trying to practice our ancestral religion, Christian charity was contingent on you being willing to go along with Christianity, the government that has its' boot on our neck to this day is Christian, and goyim really want to act like NO ONE religious has ever done anything bad other than (((some people)))?! Choctaw women are STILL raped and beaten by police at four times the rate of white people and you know what the dominant religion in the state it's being done is? Hint, it's not Judaism!

Do you know why my ancestors converted, goyim? It's because the only people who ever offered them any kindness or support who weren't asking them to give up their language, culture and way of life were Jewish. The only people who agreed being forced off of your land and death marched to Oklahoma was fucked up were Jewish people. The only one who would let my great-great-great-great grandfather work for an honest day's pay and pay him the same amount they would a white person was a Jewish man. When white people wanted to take my great-great-great grandfather and his sister and put them in an Evangelical school to indoctrinate and mistreat them, it was a Jewish woman who straight up lied to them and went, "oh they're not Native, they're my kids, actually! no need to take them anywhere, they're not Native, they're white, the father of my bastards is just tan from working outside a lot!" and thus kept them out of there. They converted because they saw the love of G-d and it sure as shit wasn't from Christians!

And people see me and they think, "oh, he's not white, so he must not be Jewish. I can say antisemitic shit in front of him" and it makes me want to go fucking feral. Do they think I just forgot why my ass is in Oklahoma and why I can speak English and Yiddish and not fluent Choctaw? Do they think I forgot who gave my family a plot of land to live on when my ancestors were declared too light skinned to be allowed to live on the reservation while also not being able to return home because white Christians had built a town atop the ruins of my people's land? Because it wasn't you, Karen. You would have been saying Native kids were better off at a residential school and we both know it! We know it because you're fine hating a minority if you just have something you can spin into an excuse and you're fine dehumanizing people if the opportunity presents itself. "Imagine if any other religion-" I don't have to imagine. I'm in Okla-fucking-homa, Karen!

I've been observant all my life but this has switched it from 'lazily observant' to 'digging my heels in and being as Jewish as humanly possible' for the same reason I work my ass off learning Choctaw despite the obstacles: white goyim do not own me and I do not owe it to them to conform to their culture and expectations.

Am Yisrael Chai Akostininchi li Yisrael

(yes I know how to say it in Choctaw, my parents embedded that in my psyche, even if the rest of our knowledge of the language is spotty)

.

[genevawrenn]

Interested in QSMP but unsure where to start? Then this post is for you!

Hello all!

I've seen a few posts here and there about being interested in the server but feeling overwhelmed with the amount of information there is, so I want to do my best to help as someone whose been here since Day 1.

Let's start out with what is QSMP?

QSMP is a multilingual Minecraft survival world [English, Spanish, Portuguese, French and Korean predominantly so far] opened on March 22, 2023 that uses real time translations to break language barriers and educate a large audience on different cultures through Minecraft content. It came to life under the careful hands of Quackity and his team, building a fantastic world with plenty of stories to uncover. There is both server-based lore and individual creators stories, whoever you choose have all added their personal touches to this expansive place.

At the beginning of 2024 a soft reset happened where their spawn was shifted 200k blocks away from the original, allowing for a fresh start for both the audience and creators which makes it the perfect time for new members of the community!

More info below;

Brief lore recap so far;

QSMP originally started with Spanish and English creators who all got placed on a single world with a large wall down the middle [Quesadilla Island]. Arriving by train a few commented on their past where most seemed to be going for a fresh start from the worlds they left behind. Placing a giant red button on the wall with the words 'don't push it', the streamers ignored that immediately and pressed it. Destroying the wall that kept the two communities apart, early QSMP was very much building and bonding.

Then, the egg tasks came.

So a bit of fourth-wall breaking on the eggs, the eggs are admins who play children that were assigned to one Spanish and one English parent. During the beginning of the event they were paired up and given tasks to complete so their eggs didn't die [ex. reading a story, clearing a dungeon, mining], as they were also in survival the parents had to worry about keeping them alive from the mobs and other players [as QSMP includes a large list of mods there are several enemies who made their lives living hell].

Unfortunately some of the original eggs have since died leading to all the parents to get extremely protective over their own charges and everyone else's. Whether that be the fault of fellow players or the over-seeing organisation called The Federation, the islanders were bonded by tragedy and tribulations.

The Federation is the organisation that oversees caring for the island and its members, the main face is that white bear you've probably seen art of named Cucurucho. Its unclear where their morals lay, a lot of clues hint they are using the members who arrived via train and later other methods of transports as experiments. There have been plotlines investigating into this mysterious organisation, leading to some characters being harmed.

The QSMP is heavily focused on uniting cultures holding multiple holiday events for the different countries involved and raising awareness about traditions. They have also held server-wide events such as Purgatory 1 & 2 where they were all assigned teams and told to fight one another. Other events include being thrown in Prison together, leading to hilarious escape antics and much chaos.

What languages have been added?

The addition list went the Spanish & English, then Portuguese, then French and most recently one Korean creator [so far?].

Who and where can I watch VODs?

There are a total of 37 members [there was 38, but one has since been removed]. I will list them in order of additions as well as a brief statement about their creator, character and lore, you can view them anytime they are live through the link below.

A website crafted by Quackity and his team that allow you to turn on subtitles in your preferred language!

***These statements may contain spoilers of lore and storylines, I did my best to do a broad overview of the points I believe are important to them***

Quackity [English & Spanish speaking] (He / him)

The main man himself, Quackity is up first. Quackity has been making content for over a decade moving from server to server such as SMP Earth, DSMP and Karmaland. He started this project with the intent to break language barriers and by god he decimated them. Prone to clickbait and dramatic titles, he's got a kind heart full of passion you can see in everything he creates.

He plays two characters on QSMP currently, a cubito sharing his name then another named ElQuackity. Quackity is an erratic but caring individual who has a rather lonely lore but an intriguing one. Assigned an egg with no co-parent, Tilin and their father's relationship was distant at best. At the time of his child's death they were on okay terms but the guilt stuck with him until current day. Kidnapped by the Federation, he returned a broken man with little to no memories and had to be protected by others.

ElQuackity is his brother who behaves in a more cold and sinister fashion compared to Quackity's kind-hearted intentions. He disappears and reappears at various points throughout the lore, most recently in Purgatory when he infiltrated a team before being revealed as a traitor. Choosing to remain with the Watcher, who is the overseer of Purgatory, its unsure as to his next moves or his inner motivations.

Wilbur Soot [English speaking] (He / him)

Wilbur Soot is a content creator and musician, he has been absent as of late from the server on a hiatus. You may have heard his name attached to such servers as DSMP, SMP Earth, and SMP Live.

[I do not support him as a content creator, I'm adding this edit post everything coming out. Believe victims!]

He is the father of Tallulah, a sweet girl who loves music and flowers. Often serenading her with his guitar and singing. Entrusting her care to Philza, he hasn't been seen in quite some time. His absence has weighed on his daughter, but she has found her true family now.

FitMC [English speaking / learning Spanish and Portuguese] (He / him)

FitMC is a content creator from the wastelands of 2B2T, the oldest anarchy server in Minecraft. You may recognise him for his iconic voice, he streams Monday through Friday on QSMP. He was also on SMP Earth and SMP Live.

He plays a grizzled anarchist who puts up a front of an asshole but that hides his kind heart. He arrived on Quesadilla Island for a mission he's only recently discussed more in his individual lore and found a family along the way. Father of Ramon, his character recently started dating another by the name of Pac, who we will get into later. He was initially paired up with Spreen, who has since stopped playing on QSMP, as such Fit refers to him as his ex-partner. Close with Tubbo and Pac, their clique came to be known as Morning Crew as they often login at the same time. He worked as a Janitor for The Federation and was a part of the Rebellion against the Federation up until the soft reset, his current employment status is unknown since. In canon, he has a prosthetic left arm in which he stores the data he needs to save.

His chat is known as the Huevitos.

Philza / Ph1lzA [English speaking / learning Spanish] (He / him)

Philza is a content creator who is known for dying in his 5 year Hardcore world to a baby zombie, a spider and a skeleton. The clip went viral landing him on the news, boosting him into regular viewership by Minecraft enthusiasts. His history also includes DSMP, SMP Live and SMP Earth. You may know him as part of Sleepy Bois Inc, as well as a warrior in keeping Technoblade's memory alive. He streams Monday, Wednesday and Friday, usually a few hours in his current Hardcore World before he spends time in QSMP.

Father of Chayanne and Tallulah [Wilbur asked him to care for her in his absence leading to him adopting her as his daughter], he is an corvid hybrid fallen from grace. Notable features include the damaged crow wings you may see in fanarts, he is paranoid and observant. Platonically married to Missa Sinfonia, he is close friends with several islanders despite being a hermit. Fierce and will return damages tenfold if provoked, he has a rocky history with the Federation and other methods of authority, joining Ordo Theoritas, earning Cellbit's trust and admiration with his photography and hoarding of important items. With references to his Hardcore Lore & Deities aplenty, he is my favourite POV and the one I started with.

His chat are portrayed as crows.

Jaiden Animations [English speaking] (She / her)

Jaiden is an animator and creator most well known for her animated gameplay videos and funny anecdotes. I admit I don't know much about her past relating to roleplay servers, she has amazing content regardless.

Jaiden's character is a bit different to the others with an unknown past, lore has revealed that she might be more tied to the Federation than she originally thought. Also an avian hybrid, she formed a close bond with Cucurucho which lead to some distrust between herself and the other islanders. Mother of Bobby, who is deceased, she was partnered with Roier as a parental unit and mourns her lost child to this day.

Her chat is a flock of hummingbirds who follow her around.

BadBoyHalo [English speaking] (He / him)

Badboyhalo has an extensive history with Minecraft gameplay, a prominent member within these communities and was one of the first members of DSMP and now QSMP.

BBH plays a demon hybrid who is friendly and kind, he is willing to help out any member new and old. Logging long hours he probably has some of the highest playtime on that server, whether that be caring for the egg children, hanging out with friends or bothering Foolish Gamers. All the eggs look up to him as a parental figure, there are plenty of jokes he is the server's babysitter but I don't think he minds. All islanders have spoken about how much they trust him with their charges, his priority has always been the kids. Father of Dapper and Pomme, he co-parents them with Baghera Jones.

His community is known as Ghosties.

Foolish Gamers / Foolish [English speaking / learning Spanish] (He / him)

Foolish is well known for his incredible building skills, when he was added to DSMP it brought his name into relevancy where he flourished, expanding his gameplay into other games like Valorant which has a loyal following. He often engages in months long projects such as building the Titan from AOT and streams long hours regularly on the QSMP.

His character is portrayed as a Totem of Undying mixed with shark genes, leading to emerald eyes and parts of shark mixed into his physiology. Silly and chaotic, he is a well loved POV of the server for his jokes and ability to stumble across lore. Viewed as a more laid-back parent, he helps them learn through experience while making sure they don't get seriously hurt. He was hired by the Federation as an agent and an enforcement officer, leading to his fellow islanders keeping information away from him in fear. Father of Leonarda with Vegetta, his partner has been absent for many months leading to him raising and caring for Leo alone.

His chat are called Doozers, a reference to the TV show Fraggle Rock.

DanTDM [English speaking] (He / him)

I am going to keep this one short and sweet, Dan was one of the original members but ended up dropping out of the project due to personal reasons, no bad blood. Father of Trump with AgenteMaxo, Trump died quite early into the server due to neither of their parents logging in.

Charlie Slimecicle [English speaking] (He / him)

Charlie Slimecicle is a hilarious creator who has a gift for breathing life and depth into any character he creates. Sharing a similar history as others on this list, he participated in DSMP, SMP Live and SMP Earth.

His character is tragic, in short. He was charged with caring for an egg he named Juana Flippa with his wife ElMariana, their daughter then died from a sweeping edge glitch that was discovered months after her death. Going on the rampage of a lifetime, he was stopped by the other members when his intent was to kill the other children potentially forcing whoever was in control to revive them all including his daughter again. Failing, he has struggled to find a place and purpose for months until his 'daughter' came back and he became infected with a type of code virus causing his physical appearance to become warped. During the QSMP Prison arc he was informed he was a father of one of the newest eggs, SunnySideUp, his co-parents are Tubbo, Pol and Lenay.

Luzu [English & Spanish speaking] (He / him)

I am going to be honest, I am a newer fan of Luzu so I will do my best to describe him but please take this with a grain of salt.

Luzu is a creator who played on the same server as Quackity called Karmaland which a good majority of the Spanish speakers have in common. Sarcastic, chaotic and slightly unhinged, he's always willing to go with the bit.

Luzu's lore is interwoven with the main storyline, though his cubito has been IA from the server he would often log in to leave cryptic messages in binary and computers followed him everywhere he settled. Father of Tilin with Quackity, Tilin unfortunately also passed early into the server leaving them in mourning. Something the parental unit holds to this day, threatening harm against the party who was the cause of their child's death.

Luzu's character is unique as he also has a counterpart named Arin, an AI bot who takes over when Luzu goes to sleep. Unable to speak aloud, they communicate through typing in the game chat and is extremely naïve.

Rubius [Norwegian, Spanish & English speaking] (He / him)

Rubius I admittedly don't know the most about as he was active early in the server's lifetime but less so lately. Also a member of Karmaland.

In those beginning days he played an Angel / Devil entity who seemed particularly protective of the eggs the islanders were assigned between making requests of the server members in exchange for rewards. Prior to the Purgatory Event he revealed he had been stripped of his power and thrown back to the mortal realm to participate in the Purgatory Event, it's unsure past that point as he has not logged back in.

ElMariana [Spanish speaking / learning Portuguese and English] (He / him)

Mariana is a creator who hails from the lands of Tiktok, he's dramatic and friendly, often a little bit flirty.

Mariana is Slimecicle's goverment assigned wife and they often playfully argue with one another between divorces. The other half of Juana's parents, he has a rough past of being the reason Flippa lost one of her lives. It's referenced to this day despite the fact Mariana cares quite a bit for the remaining children, gentle and sweet with everyone's kids. He's one of the less active members, recently given a new child named Pepito who he co-parents with Roier, Carre, Quackity and Rivers.

SpreenDMC [Spanish speaking] (He /him)

Another one I will keep short as he no longer plays on the server. Father of Ramon, his influence only shows in the family he abandoned occasionally making snarky comments against his character. Rumours go he is Missa's brother but I am not entirely sure how canon that is to the server's lore.

Missa Sinfonia [Spanish & English speaking / can understand some Portuguese] (He / him)

Missa is a musician and a Youtube-based creator primarily, he knew Roier, Spreen and Quackity prior to his invitation to the QSMP. The epitome of wet cat energy, you can't help but enjoy his silly energy as he will always bring a smile to your face with his antics.

Very similar to his character in fact, paired up with Philza during the initial egg event they were quick to label themselves platonically married as they cared for their son Chayanne. Missa is a rare appearance on the island but always a delightful one when he does. He believes he isn't worth Phil's affections due to his absences, something Phil is quick to squash as he always makes sure there is space in their lives for him. A rare eclipse when they are together, the fandom likes to compare them to the sun and the moon. Tallulah considers him her third father, post being asked during the Prison event when there was a rare reunion of 4 of 5 members of the Death Family [Philza, Missa, Chayanne, Tallulah and Wilbur Soot].

Roier [Spanish & English speaking / can understand some Portuguese] (He / him)

Roier hails from the land of Youtube gameplays where he posts regularly. Friends with Missa, Quackity, Spreen and Rubius among others, he was one of the original draft for Quesadilla Island.

In character Roier is funny, energetic and known for playing multiple personas with a talent for voice acting. Easy to get along with and goated at fighting, he is only a call away when something serious happens. Paired with Jaiden to become Bobby's parents up until Bobby's death, he remains close with Jaiden and protects her. Adopted as a son by Foolish and Vegetta, he has a playful relationship with his sister Leo and will look after her if needed. Meeting and falling in love with fellow islander Cellbit, after they got married he considers Richarlyson and Pepito as his own. One of his persona's is Melissa, his cousin who runs a therapist office in the original borders of the land. His streams on the server are random, but a good time!

I am not the most caught up on his lore but from what I have seen in passing he went into mourning when Cellbit chose to stay on Purgatory in an effort to save his son and his personality became more withdrawn. Roier has a twin brother Doied who implemented his twin's consciousness into a rat and took over Roier's body. This lore is still ongoing, some islanders have become suspicious of Doied.

Vegetta777 [Spanish speaking / some fluency in English and French] (He / him)

Another arrival who has Karmaland in his past, Vegetta is known for his impressive builds and a love of symmetry. He has a distinct voice and is famous within the Spanish community for his gameplay.

He was decently active at the start, creating a large property he then surrounded with security procedures after a certain red-hood wearing demon broke in to trade with his villagers. Paired up with Foolish as parents of Leo, both doted on their child with great amounts of love until Vegetta stopped logging on.

I don't know the story as to why he hasn't come back in a while, but it led to a storyline of Foolish & Leo becoming much more dependant on each other and his character still has importance each time either of them see something that reminds them of him.

Maximus [Spanish & English speaking] (He / him)

Another person I am not sure about his history [I can't find too much online so I'll talk mainly about his lore].

Maximus is the other half of Trump's parents who took his son's death hard. Launching him into investigating the real truths behind Quesadilla Island and later establishing the The Theory Bros in an effort to uncover anything to help, Max was a figurehead in early lore for pushing back against the Federation and trying to find out their secrets. His creation of the Theory Bros lead to Ordo Theoritas, which will become important in later character discussions. Max has since passed in the lore via giant nuke on Egg Island, where Purgatory was held, but I've heard some rumours he may return in the future. Do not take that as a certainty, I only know from a few clips I have seen with him speaking about it.

~That's it for the original members, let's move on to who was added afterwards~

The Cargo Ship arrival April 30, 2023

Cellbit [Portuguese, English & Spanish speaking] (He / him)

Cellbit is a famous creator from Brazil through many forms of creative media, his most prominent being a tabletop RPG called "Ordem Paranormal" he created and hosts regular campaigns through. Compassionate and clever, he is known for his love of puzzles and roleplay. Most notably of his past is his escape from prison pertaining to his character alongside Pac and Mike within Minecraft: FUGA IMPOSSÍVEL - O FILME.

The character he plays has an incredible amount of depth, deeply entwined with the Federation and other fellow members of the island. Curious as a cat he began to investigate the mysterious organisation known as the Federation. Going to dangerous depths to find hidden secrets, becoming employed by them in an attempt to grow closer. This eventually lead to his capture and subsequent torture by Cucurcuho.

Once he was released he went on to take a more passive role, forming Ordo Theoritas. Spreading the word he would take any information, other islanders stepping up to help. Leading to him growing closer with his fellow people as his life turns more joyful, he marries Roier in the first wedding on Quesadilla Island. He is the father of Richarlyson, Bobby and Pepito and twin brother of Bagi. Though his past is bloody and left scars on friends of old such as Pac & Mike, many members trust him implicitly and he always takes special care to save flowers for all the egg children, forging close bonds with them all as one of their tios. Cellbit took a break from QSMP post-Purgatory events but has since returned, he likes doing multiple things a stream as such the QSMP is often a segment between various games and chatting.

Felps [Portuguese & English speaking / learning Russian] (He / him)

Felps has a running joke going with the QSMP that he never actually joined, which is only reinforced by his more rare logins to the server. He streams often on Twitch leading to most of his content surrounding that channel and is a longtime friend of Cellbit, Pac and Mike.

I am going to be so real, I don't know the most about Felps and the character he plays other than he dug a giant hole near original spawn and the islanders now worship him as Saint Felps. An adoptive father of Richarlyson he is spoken about fondly by other islanders, indicating he has a caring heart and is an attentive father when he logs in.

Pac [Portuguese & English speaking] (He / him)

One half of Tazercraft, Pac is an excitable and enthusiastic creator who you can't help but become enamoured with. Bright and a fantastic actor, his history is connected with both Cellbit and Mike prior to QSMP in Minecraft: FUGA IMPOSSÍVEL - O FILME.

As a character Pac is friendly and approachable, often even flirty with those he is comfortable with. He is positive to everyone but himself, lacking any love towards the accomplishments of his past. He loves with his whole heart, quick to comfort anyone who needs it or to be a listening ear. His right leg was lost during his escape from prison with Mike, resulting in a prosthetic. He co-owns Chume Labs with his best friend, enjoying causing general shenanigans with those he is close with whether that be breaking rules or going places they shouldn't be. A recent development is he is now dating FitMC after the anarchist told him the truth about the anarchist's past, a couple formed on the basis of a strong friendship they are not afraid to flaunt their happiness. Quick to accept Ramon as his son alongside Richarlyson, he will give it all to protect those he now see as his family. A member of the Rebellion against the Federation, he lends his aid when needed as one of the newest recruits. Close to Fit and Tubbo, a grouping that came to be known as Morning Crew as their schedules matched leading to many occasions of spending time together.

Mike [Portuguses & English speaking] (Any pronouns)

Outspoken, silly and a fun time to watch, you know you will be entertained after tuning into one of Mike's streams. Best friend of Pac and married to a beautiful soul, he has an enjoyable energy to him. The other half of Tazercraft, he participated within Minecraft: FUGA IMPOSSÍVEL - O FILME.

A lot of this carries over to his character, an erratic scientist at Chume Labs with a love for general rule-breaking and experimenting. He *ahem* took a bunch o' Kelp cocaine and passed out for a good long while but he has since returned. Between himself and Pac they have built several minigames on QSMP such as Hide n' Seek and Murder Mystery. A more strict parent of Richas compared to his best friend, he is willing to go to any length to save those he loves including spilling blood. A regular appearance on QSMP, he enjoys spending time with his friends and his son.

Forever [Portuguese & English speaking] (He / him)

I wasn't even sure I wanted to include this but I wish to record the actions of only his character. He was expelled from the QSMP for past actions that I do not condone under any circumstances. I will not go into detail here, I will leave that up to you if you wish to search.

In my statement below I am only speaking of the character he played and the lore he influenced.

Forever arrived with the rest of the Brazilian members and soon thereafter the Elections arc kicked off. He was voted in as President and was the liaison between the Federation and the rest of the islanders. A doting parent, he built NINHO, a protective hotel that could instantly teleport entities by simply interacting with a camera tablet all islanders held to protect everyone's children. When their children went missing it led to him being medicated by Cucurucho to become happier. Pac followed his footsteps with the intent to also become less sad but was convinced by Cellbit to document his symptoms in an attempt to find a cure. Due to that foresight, both of them were cured by Philza, BBH and Cellbit after finding the instructions and ingredients at Chume Labs. Later becoming infected by black matter which seemed to possess him, he was then stopped by Cucurucho during a rampage who then executed him after teleporting him far away.

The Plane arrival May 16, 2023

Baghera Jones [French & English speaking / learning Spanish] (She / her)

Baghera Jones is a badass. That's the long and short of it. As a creator she has raced cars and is just about the coolest person I have ever seen. She has an active YouTube channel and enjoys streaming regularly.

She also plays an amazing character on the server. Strong, smart, sensitive and strong, she is respected by many members of the island. Mother of Pomme and Dapper, she took to motherhood quickly and dotes on her children with her whole heart. She did run for President but then gave up her chance as a rebellious act against the Federation. Striving to get better in fighting skills to protect her loved ones, she will go to the bloody end for those she loves. She took a break from the server at the same time Cellbit did but has since returned.

Her chat is potrayed as fireflies.

Etoiles [French & English speaking] (He / him)

Etoiles is a man of culture and is honourable, an enthusiast for learning new things besides his gaming content he also hosts museum walkthroughs educating thousands about ancient histories. Known for his prowess in both Super Smash Bros and Minecraft PVP, he often grinds long hours on the QSMP in pursuit of knowledge about the world they were spawned into.

His character is an anthroplantae cucumber, no I am not kidding, who is infected by code after completing his sword earned through combat. One of the main antagonists near the start of the lore were these creatures the islanders nicknamed Code Monsters who would appear with overpowered weapons. Choosing to prove his worth in battle, Etoiles spent many hours battling these beasts and learning their methods, earning himself a special shield and sword and the title of the best at PVP on QSMP. He enjoys bantering with fellow islanders and is generous with items, liking to gift items to people to make their lives easier. Father of Pomme, he will do anything for those he protects and enjoys being tio of all of the eggs. A member of the Rebellion, he strives to create harmony on the server and to protect those compromised or weaker than him.

AntoineDaniel [French & English speaking] (He / him)

Antoine is multifaceted as an actor, streamer and Youtuber [he even has a Wikipedia page, I just found out]. He seems clever and very comedically gifted, easily making others laugh.

There isn't much known about the character he portrays which seems to be ideal thing for him. A mystical identity with multiple faces, alluding to not being human and higher that average health, he will always surprise you. He appears when he wants to and leaves impressions on everyone he comes across.

Kameto [French speaking] (He / him)

There isn't much online with who Kameto is beyond he has competed in League of Legends tournaments in the past and Etoiles is a close friend of his.

It was revealed several months ago that Kameto is an undercover spy for the Federation but he hasn't logged on in a good while so nothing has come to fruition surrounding that.

AyPierre [French & English] (He / him)

He knows a ton about the mods within the QSMP, showing up and building large factories to store massive amounts of resources, plus a good amount of knowledge surrounding redstone. He likes running things from the shadows and being a supplier of goods and services. Enjoys streaming on the server regularly and has a playful rivalry with Tubbo surrounding create and what they can build. Once upon a time he was dating Max but things ended badly, he seems to regret Max dying before things were at least amicable between them. I am not sure the distinction between the cc and the character, I will leave that up to you if you are curious about his content.

The Ice Prison arrival August 28, 2023

Niki Nihachu [German, Spanish & English speaking] (She / her)

Niki Nihachu is a gifted actor and roleplayer who is close friends with several of the other members of QSMP, a former DSMP member as well and an old friend of several other members. Kind, soft spoken and gentle, she is very open about mental health struggles and provides a safe environment for her community.

In character she is part cat and part human, with white ears poking from her pink hair. Not much has been revealed about her character other than she is fiercely careful surrounding the eggs and is ready to defy figures of authority given any reason. Mother of Empanada, she is close to her fellow mothers as well as other islanders like Tubbo and Philza. At the original spawn her daughter and herself made plans with the Death Family to start a bakery but it is unclear whether those plans still stand where they are living now.

Tubbo_ [English speaker / learning British Sign Language] (He / him)

Energetic to an unhinged amount, he acts like he has consumed about fourteen coffees in thirty seconds but its just so endearing you can't help but tune in. A former member of DSMP and SMP Earth, close friends with Philza, Niki, Quackity, Foolish and Wilbur Soot.

From his day one of the QSMP he has some of the highest playtime between streaming on both his main and alt channel whether it be hanging out with friends or building his thousandth machine. Likes testing the rules and the extent of the servers capabilities, tempting Cucurucho's ire within hours of being on the server leading to him strongly distrusting anyone in power. Assigned a bright and confident egg named SunnySideUp he was alone as a parent in raising her for the first several months, relying on friends nearby such as his fellow Morning Crew to care for her. In character it was recently revealed he is not alive, at least not in the human sense after being forcefully shut down by Richas in a play brawl. Tubbo going offline led to the appearance of Creation, someone who is programmed to protect all the eggs in order of importance starting with Tubbo's daughter Sunny.

IronMouse [English, Spanish, Korean & Japanese speaking] (She / her)

A well known creator for many things including an easily recognisable persona, a beautiful singing voice from many years of perfecting it and an impressive amount of charity work, she is an icon. A gremlin at heart, she was a welcome and surprising addition to the QSMP who I now can't imagine the server without.

Another demon in the lore, she offers advice to her fellow species while being a proud member of her race. With a scream that could shatter eardrums she is willing to claw her way through any obstacle. Wild and free, she is dramatic and fiery with her admiration. Mother of Empanada, she is close to Foolish and was one of the only people he invited to live near him.

Tina Kitten [English / some Korean speaking] (She / her)

Tina Kitten rose to prominence during the era of Among Us playing games with several large creators and becoming a regular content creator. Close to Foolish, she was apart of DSMP up until its conclusion along with Foolish, Badboyhalo and several others.

In character she is a demon who is very secretive about her true race, playing it off like she is human as she seems ashamed of her identity. Interested romantically in another character named Bagi, she makes friends easy but has trouble opening up to others. Mother of Empanada, when she is angry her aggression bursts forth which she attempts to keep at bay as to not scare the others.

Lenay [English & Spanish speaking] (She / her)

Lenay's career is impressive to say the least, a lot of this I am just learning now. Discovered as an actor and hosting a regular show on MTV, she's gone on to have credits in both acting and singing while also being a Youtuber and a Twitch Streamer.

On QSMP she is a rare login but always a delight when that happens, she is the mother of Sunnyside up alongside Pol, Slime and Tubbo. Tubbo crafted this whole lore about her being a mermaid when Sunny discovered one of her mother's bodies floating in a river near original spawn, they have met since but Lenay hasn't logged on past the first day of the soft reset. Married to German irl, they are intent to protect one another during gameplay and often stick close together.

Riversgg [English, Spanish & French speaking] (She / her)

Rivers is a Mexican streamer and Youtuber who has a large list of accomplishments. She is quite sporty including both through soccer and winning a large boxing match plus she owns a restaurant? Basically, the coolest person to ever exist.

Shown to be gifted in player vs player combat, holding her own in Purgatory along with being able to strike up a conversation with anyone around she is a valuable asset to any team. Close allies with Roier and her fellow Spanish speaking creators, she is also the mother of Pepito.

Willyrex [Spanish & English speaking] (He / him)

Willyrex is a famous Spanish Youtube personality and has written a series of books with Vegetta777. His Youtube channel is within the top 100 most subscribed in the world, doing a variety of content. A member of Karmaland alongside other creators such as Vegetta, Quackity, Luzu and Rubius.

Willyrex has a love for explosions, setting mines all over the previous spawn as he moved from place to place. Choosing not to build a house worried it would be destroyed, he has grown close with a few of the egg children during his apperences on the server such as Dapper, Ramon and Tallulah. Wishing to have an egg of his own, he commented on their weakness but grew attached to many of them quickly.

Polispol [Spanish, English & Catalan speaking] (He / him)

A cinematographer and director, he is someone Quackity looks up too. Having a love of film, he has several credits under his name. I admit I don't know the most about him otherwise and there isn't too much online, he seems to have a genuine and kind heart.

Traits that carry over to his character, he is very friendly and enjoys light hearted pranks upon fellow server members. Father of Sunny, they have yet to meet as he has been on break and last I heard the admins were cooking something with his lore but nothings come of that yet.

German [Spanish & English speaking] (He / him)

German has the second most subscribed channel on Youtube in the Spanish language. He is a Youtuber, singer & songwriter, comedian and writer. Married to Lenay, he has many achievements to his name and is well known across the internet including appearing in many Youtube Rewinds.

As a character...there is basically nothing. Tied with DanTDM for how often he has signed onto the server, the only thing to be said is he is protective of his partner Lenay and enjoys exploring the environment around him. He has no egg assigned to him, similar to Willyrex, the only two on the island without children.

The Wheel arrival September 16 & 18th, 2023

Bagi [Portuguese & English speaking] (She / her)

From the lovely lands of Brazil, she is close friends with several other members such as Cellbit, Pac, Mike and Felps. Youtuber and streamer, she is determined and strong.

Descriptors I could also use for the character she plays, willing to wield a weapon against anyone who harms her or those she cares about. Smart and analytical, she has been independently researching into the Federation and her past. Discovering the fact Cellbit is her twin brother, they share many secrets between them after having a heart to heart in their old home on the island. She knows how far her brother is willing to go in his emotional states and supports him regardless even if she doesn't agree with his methods. One of the first person she trusted with the location of her secret base besides her best friend Pac, she is cautious and clever in creating sanctuaries for her family and loved ones. A regular streamer who is considered to be a part of Morning Crew & Friends, many people on the island trust in her and her abilities. Mother of Empanada and Richarylson, she wanted to be a parent from the moment she joined during the time the eggs were missing. When they returned, she gained two children and loves them dearly.

Carre [Spanish / some English & Portuguese fluency] (He / him)

Carre is a Twitch streamer and Youtuber who does a variety of content winning fans over with his charisma and comedy. Coming from a well known series called Tortillaland, he also enjoys dancing and has won and award for it. Prior to joining QSMP it's noted he is friends with Roier, Quackity and ElMariana which reflects in his gameplay on the QSMP.

He is a carefree and social individual, easily getting along even with people he doesn't regularly interact with. He isn't upfront with his caring nature, taking things to heart like when Roier killed him in Purgatory. He was worried about meeting his son Pepito but once he did they grew close quickly, skateboarding all across the server together.

The Third Train February 11, 2024

악어 / Acau [Korean speaking / learning English] (He / him)

The newest member of the server, the first Korean speaking creator he joined recently after the soft reset. Relying entirely on the translator unlike the previous additions, he got along well with people immediately.

Teasing others and taking to parenthood right off the bat of the newest egg 춘식 (pronounced Choo-n-shi-k), many other islanders have offered their help as they complete quests and raid dungeons together. Proficient in PVP, he is quick on his feet and stubborn.

I hope this blog helps you if you are interested, this server is one of the most welcoming and receptive of feedback I have ever seen. Everyone who is white-listed grew close as friends if it wasn't the cause of their reunion, drawing a large community to surround them.

I promise even though the lore can seem overwhelming there are plenty of people who are willing to answer any question you may have. I have loved my time here, I started my journey into MCYT content through DSMP and found a lovely home here while still fondly appreciating my past.

If people want I will come back to edit this to include a portion for the eggs, or maybe I will do a separate post?

Let me know in the tags or replies if you stumble across this post after the poll has been completed.

Anyways, this is Wren signing off, this post took me 3 days to write and please feel free to reply letting me know of any mistakes within the information!

o/

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Hey! I hope you’re doing well!! I read in one of your previous posts that things were a little hard right now. I hope they get better soon, if they haven’t already!

I wanted to ask about your TF141 mer au:

Do the shark mers like Soap, Price and Gaz go into tonic immobility if they get flipped upside down?

Cuz you mentioned they might beef with orcas from time to time, and that’s how orcas often kill great whites: they turn them upside down and hold them like that so they can’t fight back. This paper discusses the strategies used by killer whales to hunt great white sharks that have been observed in South Africa (TW: for pretty lengthy description of killer whales hunting sharks, as well as some slightly graphic descriptions of how the orcas ate the sharks). They also talk about strategies the sharks used to get away from the orcas being similar to how the sharks’ normal prey, seals and sea turtles, try to evade them! Which might mean the sharks are learning how to escape orcas based off how their prey escape them! And they hint in the conclusions that the hunting of sharks might even be a culturally transmitted thing from parent orcas to their calves! Which is insanely cool!! It’s a bit dry because it is a scientific paper, but definitely worth reading, if you’re interested!

But back to the point: If they do go into tonic immobility when flipped upside-down, how do they handle that in the case of dangerous creatures/divers doing that to them? I hope the guys are staying safe out there 😰

(Also, ps. Tonic immobility is theorized to be a sex thing, since sex underwater is hard. So I dunno if you wanna integrate that into your kinky headcannons about the shark mers :) )

yes, thank you!! wild. i have indeed been looking for ways to write in other types of mer, especially orcas. the problem is orcas are way, way overpowered in real life. even the ones that don't kill great whites for their livers are big enough to eviscerate anything that looks at them funny and smart enough to (as you mention) to develop these unique ways of hunting down prey. like… how do you introduce someone based on that without breaking the whole dang worldbuilding structure?

and the study, especially this bit--

In one case, a killer whale attempted to roll and invert a white shark into a position that would result in tonic immobility (Henningsen, 1994; Pyle et al., 1999) before biting into its abdomen just behind the pectoral fins.

so yeah. this particular group of orcas 1) noticed sharks are vulnerable to tonic immobility, and 2) weaponized that vulnerability to basically hypnotize, kill, and butcher them. and those orcas do so with this, like, insane technical precision. they know exactly where to tear into the great whites to reach their livers. iirc, they don't even eat the other parts of the shark--just the liver. all that murder just for a decadent lil treat <3

but yeah! tonic immobility. the idea of building that into a kink thing for the mer 141 is. hmm. phenomenal actually. people apparently speculate that tonic immobility puts a shark into a calm or rapturous/ecstatic (!) state of mind.

like…. cmon...... hypnosis kink.

imagine knowing how to drop any one of the 141 into subspace. you'd have a pod of horny monster men at your beck and call to bottom for you whenever you feel like it ;) shark sex isn't easy! there's teeth and claws and rutting and tail-winding and so much biting. if you knew how to turn any one of them into easygoing submissive mers instead of bitey aggressive doms, who would blame you for flipping that switch occasionally?? as long as you do with them what you want to do before that 15-minute window of tonic immobility trance time is up, of course, and they regain their senses. then all bets are off.

that would need to be a closely guarded secret indeed ( *︾▽︾)

(mer au tag)

[ahqkas]

♯ HIRAETH ; james patrick march

PAIRING! james patrick march x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! hiraeth (n.) — a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was, the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

WORD COUNT! 6.8k

WARNINGS / TAGS! angsttt, reader is described to have hair, mention of love making + lmk of more if found !

NOTES! found a collection of podcasts that reminded me a bit too much of james , this work is inspired by dangerously yours’ masquerade !! all the credits to the devider below belong to @/menschenopfer

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THE YEAR WAS 1927, AND LOS ANGELES WAS A CITY OF DREAMS, BEAMING WITH AMBITION, GLAMOUR, AND DARKNESS OF ITS OWN. The Hotel Cortez, with its imposing façade of carved stone and gleaming brass, towered over the busy streets below. It was a sanctuary for the elite, a place where luxury met mystery, and where secrets were buried deep within its intimidating walls.

The heavy doors of the hotel creaked open, and in stepped a woman whose presence commanded attention. She was the very meaning of old-world elegance, a figure that seemed to have stepped out of the newest magazine. Her [color] hair was styled in gentle waves that framed her face, and her eyes, sharp and enigmatic, glimmered with a secret knowledge. She wore a tailored traveling dress of navy blue, the fabric clinging to her form in a manner that was both modest and alluring. A black cloche hat sat atop her head, its wide brim casting a shadow over her striking features.

As you crossed the marble threshold, the polished floors beneath your heels echoed with each deliberate step. The hotel lobby was a grand room of the hotel, adorned with chandeliers that bathed the space in warm, golden light. The walls were lined with dark, rich wood paneling, and the air was filled with the faint scent of jasmine and the lingering aroma of fine cigars. Guests shuffled around in the lobby, their conversations a murmur of excitement, but their eyes discreetly turned to the striking woman who had just entered.

A hotel worker, dressed smartly in a bellboy uniform of crisp white and black, approached you with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to catering to the wealthy and powerful. He couldn't help but be taken aback by your appearance, the way you moved with an effortless grace that seemed to belong to someone your status.

"Good evening, madam," he said, his voice respectful but tinged with curiosity. His eyes darted briefly to your luggage — a single, exquisitely crafted leather bag, monogrammed with the initials that possibly belonged to you.

Without pausing, you handed him your smooth gloves, your tone cool and commanding. "Have my bag sent to Suite 81," you instructed, words clipped and precise.

The bellboy hesitated for only a moment before snapping to attention. "Yes, ma'am!" he replied, taking the bag with both hands as if it contained something made out of glass, something precious. He hurried off toward the elevator, casting a final, awed glance back at you.

You continued your way through the lobby and a low hum of conversation followed after you. Guests and staff alike seemed to recognize you, though none dared to approach you directly. Your reputation, it seemed, followed you as well.

"Good evening, Countess [Last name]!" came a cheerful greeting from one of the hotel's attendants, a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache who had seen many notable figures pass through the Cortez's doors, but none quite like you.

You turned your head slightly in his direction, your lips curling into a polite smile that did not quite reach your eyes. "Good evening," you replied, voice smooth and cultured, with a hint of an accent that spoke of faraway lands.

The attendant bowed slightly as you passed, and within moments, another voice, this time a younger woman in the concierge uniform, echoed through the lobby. "Welcome back, Countess [Last name]!" her voice was filled with genuine warmth and you didn't understand where did this come from.

The evening had settled over Los Angeles. The grand dining room of the hotel was appearing in art deco luxury, with its dark wood accents, gold-leafed walls, and crystal chandeliers casting a warm, inviting light over the tables set with fine china and silverware. The clinking of glasses and soft murmur of conversation filled the air and created something nostalgic to your heart.

You entered the dining room with the same air of composed grace that had marked your entrance into the hotel. Your eyes swept the room, taking in the diners who were engaged in their meals and conversations and you felt a pang of jealousy upon the sight. Their lives were so normal in comparison with yours.

As you approached the maître d's podium, the head waiter, a distinguished man with a neatly trimmed mustache and a tuxedo that fit him like a second skin, stepped forward. He recognized you immediately, the elegant Countess, and inclined his head in a deep bow.

"A table for one, ma'am?" his voice was practiced with the ease of someone who had served wealthy guests for years, though there was a slight quiver in his voice — perhaps a trace of the unease that always seemed to accompany you.

You, with your face expression as unreadable as ever, allowed yourself a brief pause before responding. Your eyes flicked past him, scanning the room once more, searching for something — or rather, someone.

"Is . . . James Patrick March dining?" you asked, voice soft but with an undercurrent of something that hinted at more than just casual interest.

The maître d' hesitated only for a heartbeat before answering, his gaze following yours toward the far end of the room. "Oh, he's at the table by the window, ma'am," he replied and a hint of curiosity crossed his tone as he gestured subtly toward the large, arched windows that overlooked the city's nightscape.

There, seated at a table clothed in the soft glow of candlelight, was James Patrick March. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt and a tie that was just slightly loosened, giving him an air of a casual someone. His posture was relaxed, yet there was an intensity in the way he glanced through the room, as if every detail, every movement was a piece in a grand, invisible game. A game that belonged to him. His dark hair was slicked back, and his piercing eyes, though cast downward at the moment, seemed to take in everything around him.

Your gaze lingered on him, breath catching slightly as the history the two of you shared played out in your mind — something you've never been able to erase from your memories. Your hand tightened around the strap of your formal handbag, the storm of rage already forming inside you.

"Thank you," you murmured to the maître d', who, sensing that his services were no longer required, bowed once more and stepped aside.

With a final, steadying breath, you made your way across the dining room, your steps measured and elegant, drawing the eyes of more than a few guests who wondered at the purpose of your approach. You moved with the grace of a woman who knew how to command a room's attention without asking for it, but there was also a tension to your movements, a barely concealed edge that hinted at the true intentions of your visit.

As you neared the table, March's dark eyes lifted from his glass of alcohol, catching yours in a gaze that was both intimate and unreadable. He leaned back slightly in his chair and a slow, amused smile played at the corners of his lips as he watched you approach, as if he had been expecting you all along.

"Countess [Last name]," he greeted you, his voice smooth and rich with a hint of that accent you both despised and adored. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You met his gaze evenly, your own smile small and controlled, but there was a fire in your eyes that belied your calm exterior.

"Mr. March," the way his name rolled out of your mouth shouldn't sound so lovingly. Your voice was steady, though your heart raced beneath your play. "I believe we have unfinished business."

March remained seated, watching your every move with the sharp, predatory gaze of a man who was used to getting what he wanted. The slight smirk on his lips hinted at his appearing satisfaction. He knew you’d show up, let it be few weeks or decades.

"If some kind fate wishes to send a beautiful lady to dine with me, I can only be grateful," the man said, his voice smooth and low, rich with the charm of someone who was well aware of his power. "You will do me the honor, won't you, ma'am?"

For a brief moment, the tension between the two of you hung in the air, taut and electric, as you studied him. You were fully aware of the game you were playing, the dangerous dance of wit and will, and you had no intention of backing down. This game would be his loss.

Finally, your lips curved into a small, controlled smile, one that spoke of your own understanding of the power dynamics at play. "I should be delighted," you replied, voice carrying the slightest edge of irony as you accepted his invitation.

March's smile deepened, pleased with your response. He gestured to the empty chair opposite him, a silent invitation for you to join him. The man poured a glass for you, the wine a deep, blood-red, before filling his own. He lifted his glass to you in a toast and his eyes never left yours.

"To fate," he said, his voice carrying a note of amusement. "For bringing such a captivating companion to my table."

You lifted your glass, clinking it lightly against his. "To fate," you echoed, gaze steady as you sipped the wine, the taste of it rich and complex on your tongue. It's been a long time since the last moment you tasted the sweet blood.

For now, the dance would continue.

And as you looked into James Patrick March's eyes, you couldn't help but wonder who would lead, and who would follow.

"What would you like for dinner?" his voice always seemed smooth, and you never knew if it was because of the accent or for the fact that he knew exactly what he wanted. A hint of amusement danced in his dark irises.

Your lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "What does the owner of this hotel eat? Pheasant wings and peacock breasts?" you inquired, tone playful yet edged with a subtle challenge. "And — what do you usually eat?"

His grin widened. "Ah, the usual fare for me tends to be quite varied, though I do have a penchant for the extravagant," he admitted, leaning forward slightly as he spoke and you knew his words hinted at something else as well. "But I find myself quite curious about what a countess might prefer."

Your gaze never wavered as you answered, your voice carrying a hint of wry humor. "Almost anything," the simplicity of your answer was belied by the layers of meaning beneath it.

The man's eyes sparkled with interest as he absorbed your response. He seemed to consider those words carefully before responding, his voice warm and teasing. "Well then, how about roast beef?" he suggested, his tone both casual and deliberate, as though he were making an offer that was both grand and intimate.

Your smile deepened and a glimmer of approval appeared in your eyes. James Patrick March had always had a rich taste. Especially in alcohol and women. "Roast beef sounds delightful," you agreed. "I appreciate your choice, Mr. March. It seems fitting for the occasion."

March signaled to the waiter, who had been hovering discreetly nearby, and relayed the order with a casual wave of his hand, all while his eyes never left yours. The waiter nodded and swiftly disappeared, leaving the two of you alone once more, the soft murmur of the dining room the only sound accompanying you.

With a slow, elegant movement of his hand, March poured himself another glass of wine. "I must say, Countess [Last name], it's a rare pleasure to share a meal with someone who possesses such . . . discerning taste," he said, his voice laced with both sincerity and a hint of irony.

"And it's a rare pleasure to find myself in such intriguing company," you replied to him, tone both warm and enigmatic. "I trust the evening will prove to be as engaging as the company."

March chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you with an almost predatory satisfaction. "I have no doubt it will be," he said, raising his glass in a toast once more.

The night sky was a deep shade of deep indigo, flickering with countless stars that twinkled like diamonds scattered across velvet. The air was warm, with just the faintest whisper of a breeze, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine through the open balcony doors. The Hotel Cortez stood silent and still, its grand exterior bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting long, gentle shadows across the marble floors.

You stood on the balcony, the city of Los Angeles sprawling out beneath you like a sea of lights. Your gown, a delicate shade of silver that shimmered in the moonlight, flowed around you like liquid silk. Your hair was loose, cascading over your shoulders in waves, and your young face, bathed in the soft light, was a picture of pure satisfaction.

Beside you stood James Patrick March, his tall figure intimidating yet relaxed as he leaned against the ornate railing. His gaze, however, was not on the city below, but on the woman at his side. There was a softness in his eyes, a rare gentleness that few had ever seen, let alone inspired. In this moment, all the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you.

As you stood in comfortable silence, a sudden streak of light blazed across the night sky — a shooting star, burning its brief path before vanishing into the darkness. March, ever so observant, turned his gaze upward, his lips curving into a smile.

"Look, [Name], a shooting star," he said, his voice filled with a boyish wonder that was rare for him. He turned his head slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes reflecting the faint starlight. "Did you wish?"

Caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the star, you blinked and looked up just as it disappeared. Your expression softened, a faint smile touching your lips, but there was a wistfulness in your eyes as you shook your head slightly.

"Oh . . . I didn't have time," you admitted, voice tinged with a hint of regret, as though you had missed an opportunity that would not come again.

James' smile didn't falter, though there was a subtle shift in his expression — something deeper, more thoughtful. He stepped closer to you, his presence warm and reassuring. "And there is something you wish for," he said, more a statement than a question, as if he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it falling from your own lips.

Your smile faded into something more serious, your eyes searching his as though you were trying to decide whether to speak the truth or guard your heart. But in the end, you could not lie to him — not in this moment, not when you felt so safe, so completely at peace by his side.

"Yes," you whispered to him, barely more than a breath.

March's gaze softened further. He reached out with his hand and gently enveloped your own in his, the skin of his palm warm and grounding. "What did you wish?" he asked, his voice low and intimate, as though the words were meant for your ears alone.

You hesitated, the answer so close to escaping, yet so difficult to say. Your heart ached with the weight of it, with the knowledge of the life you wished for but could never truly have. Looking down at your joined hands, your fingers lightly curled around his in response to his question, and then back up into his dark eyes, which were watching you with such intensity, such sincerity. They seemed a lot darker now, under the night sky.

"I was wishing that we were two other people," you finally confessed, your voice filled with a quiet longing that spoke of dreams unfulfilled. "Two people who need not say goodbye."

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. You could not bear the thought of losing him, of this moment being just a fleeting memory in the string of your lives. The depth of your love for him was overwhelming, a love so pure and untainted by the shadows that would later consume you.

James stepped even closer, his hand gently moving to cup your cheek and his thumb brushed tenderly across your skin. "Perhaps it can be that way," he murmured. March bent his head, his lips hovering just above yours, as if the very act of kissing you might seal the promise he was making. "Perhaps we can be those people, if only for tonight."

Your breath caught in the back of your throat, heart pounding in your chest as you searched his eyes for the truth in his words. And this time, you allowed yourself to believe it — to believe that the two of you could escape the world that would inevitably tear you apart, that you could be just a man and a woman, free from the burdens of your lives.

You were the one to close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft, tender, and filled with all the love and hope you held in your heart for him.

And for that night, under the watchful eyes of the stars, you were just two people who did not need to say goodbye.

The present moment was completely different to the warmth and tenderness of the past. The air in the room was thick with tension, the kind that clung to the walls and settled in every crack of the Hotel Cortez. The grand suite you occupied was dimly lit, the once-gilded decor now seemed dull. Outside, the night became alive, the city's lights a distant blur beyond the heavy curtains, but inside, the atmosphere crackled with the remnants of an argument that had yet to reach its peak.

You stood near the window, your back to the room, while you stared out into the darkness with attention that wasn't really there. Your once vibrant spirit now seemed dulled by the weight of time spent in this cursed place, your elegance marred by the sorrow etched into your features. The memories of what had once been — of the love you had felt for him — were a distant echo. His betrayal hardened your heart.

Behind you, James Patrick March paced around the room restlessly, his usually composed demeanor frayed at the edges. The man who had once been a picture of controlled arrogance now seemed almost desperate, his eyes locked onto your figure as though you were the only thing grounding him to this world. His tailored suit was as impeccable as ever, but there was a tension in the set of his shoulders, a strain in his voice that betrayed the depth of his emotions.

"[Name]," he began, and his voice was urgent, almost pleading as he tried to bridge the growing wall between the two of you. "I offer you the three things most dear to me: my heart . . . my hotel . . . and my dream."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of promises that no longer held the meaning they once did. He took a step toward you, his hand outstretched as if to pull you back to him, to recapture the love you had shared before everything had gone so terribly wrong. Before his mistakes happened.

But you remained unmoved, back still turned to him, posture stiff with resolve. The pain in your chest was such a familiar ache, one that had become a part of your very being, but you had long since learned to live with it. Now, it was a shield, protecting you from the man who had once held your heart so completely.

"You are too generous —" you began with your voice full of coldness, as if you were speaking to a stranger and not the man you had once loved with every fiber of your being.

"[Name], you must listen to me!" March's voice cracked with desperation as he allowed himself to interrupt you, his frustration spilling over. He stepped closer, his presence almost suffocating in its intensity. "Since that first hour we met, I've been completely yours. There's never been anyone else for me . . . There never will."

His confession, raw and unfiltered, was the truth — at least, the truth as he saw it. To him, you were everything, the only light in the endless darkness that had become his existence. He had built this world all for you, and now it was slipping away, crumbling before his eyes because he could not reach you, could not find a way to make you understand.

You finally turned to face him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. The words he spoke were like daggers to your heart, reopening wounds that had never truly healed. You had once believed in his love, had once shared his dreams, but that time had passed. What had once been your shared world was now a shattered illusion, a dream that had turned into a nightmare.

"Please," you whispered, voice trembling with the effort to maintain your composure, but you felt the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Please don't say any more. There are worlds between us, worlds that can't be bridged with words."

Your gaze bore into his, pleading for him to understand what you could not bring yourself to say out loud.

"You are dead. And I am me."

He was trapped in this hotel, in this half-life of his own making, while you remained bound to the world of the living, a world that he could never truly be a part of. The love you had once shared, as powerful and all-consuming as it had been, was now nothing more than a painful memory.

March stood frozen, the weight of your words crushing the last remnants of his hope. He had always been a man who believed that he could bend the world to his will, that nothing was beyond his reach if he desired it enough. But in this moment, he was confronted with the one thing he could not control, could not change — the inexorable march of time and the finality of death. Was he really though?

His expression was a mix of anguish and determination, the usual smoothness of his demeanor shattered by the knowledge he had carried for so long. This was a truth he had avoided speaking aloud, perhaps out of a twisted sense of mercy, or perhaps because he could not bear the thought of breaking you more than it was needed. But now, the time for silence had passed.

"You said one night that you wished we were two different people," March began to remember, his voice low and measured. His eyes never left your form. "I think you may have that wish, [Name]."

His words seemed to hang in the air. For a moment, you did not move, your mind struggling to grasp the meaning behind them. You felt your brows furrowing in confusion, the flicker of doubt that had long been buried now rising to the surface.

"But what do you mean?" you asked in a quiet voice, almost trembling. There was something in his tone, something in the way he looked at you, that sent a chill running down your spine. It was as if the ground beneath you was beginning to crumble, threatening to pull you into an abyss you had refused to acknowledge.

James stepped closer, his gaze softening as he saw the uncertainty and fear in your eyes upon hearing those words. The man who had always prided himself on his control, on his ability to manipulate and bend others to his will, now stood before you, stripped of all secrets. He could not protect you from this truth now, could not shield you from the reality that had been so carefully hidden away by him.

"[Name]," he started gently, as if to not scare you any more, "you are not who you think you are. You've been living in denial, clinging to the idea that you are still part of the world of the living."

You recoiled slightly, with your heart beginning to race as a cold dread settled against your rib cage. Your mind fought against his words, refusing to accept what they implied. You had always felt different, out of place, but you had attributed it to the strange nature of the hotel, to the dark energy that seemed to carve every corner of it. Not this. Never this.

"No . . ." you whispered, shaking your head as if that could wake you up from the nightmare that was taking shape before you. "No, that can't be true. I'm . . . I'm alive, James. I'm here."

The man's brows furrowed in sorrow and what seemed like guilt, his heart breaking for you when you struggled to hold onto the last shreds of your denial. He reached out, gently taking your hands in his, his touch warm but offering no comfort from the truth he was about to reveal.

"You are here, [Name]," he said softly, "but not in the way you believe. You died, my love . . . years ago. You've been here, in this hotel, ever since. Your spirit, your essence — trapped, just like mine. But unlike the others, you've refused to see it. You've built a world around yourself, a world where you still believe you can leave, still believe you can live."

The room seemed to spin around you, the walls closing in as the truth clawed its way into your consciousness. You tried to pull away from him, tried to reject the reality he was presenting, but his grip on your hands was firm, grounding you even as everything else fell apart.

"No . . . no, that's not possible," you insisted still, your voice rising in pitch as panic began to take hold. "I'm not dead, I can't be. I'm . . . I'm real, James. I'm standing here, talking to you."

"Yes, you are," March replied, his voice steady and calm, though his own pain was evident in his eyes. "But you're not alive. Not in the way you think. This hotel . . . it's a place where the dead linger, where they cannot move on. You've been here with me all this time, believing you were still part of the world outside, but the truth is . . . you're not."

Tears welled up in your eyes as the reality of his words began to sink in, your carefully constructed world shattering around you. You could feel the coldness creeping into your bones, the weight of your existence pressing down on you like a leaden shroud. It was as if you were seeing yourself for the first time — truly seeing — and what you saw terrified you.

"But . . . but how?" asking, your voice broke as you looked up at him, searching his face for answers, for anything that might make sense of this horror. "How could I not know? How could I . . . how could I forget?"

Your past lover's expression was filled with sorrow as he gently cupped your face, wiping away the salty tears that spilled down your cheeks. He had never wanted this for you, never wanted you to suffer as he had, to be trapped in this purgatory with nothing but memories and regrets to keep you company.

"You loved me," he stated simply. "You loved me so much that you couldn't bear to let go, even in death. Your love for me, your denial . . . it kept you here, in this place, unable to see the truth. But now . . . now you know."

You were his. Perhaps you had always been. And now, as the truth of your existence settled into your bones, he knew he could not let you go, even if it meant holding onto a ghost, a shadow of what the two of you once were.

Gently, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand still cradling one of your cheeks. Your eyes were red-rimmed, your face paler than usual, but in that moment, you were still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. The love he had felt for you had not waned, even in death; if anything, it had only grown stronger, more desperate.

"You may as well take my heart, [Name]," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's already full of you. You walked into it the day we met."

A blink was all you managed to give. You had felt his love from the beginning, had known how deeply he cared for you.

"You're a fool, James Patrick March." There was no anger in your words, only a sorrowful resignation. You knew what he was trying to do, knew he was trying to hold onto something that had already slipped away. But there was no future for the two of you — not in this twisted world, not in this half-existence.

He smiled sadly, a flicker of the old charm that had once captivated you. "Oh, but isn't any man who falls in love?" He ran his thumb gently across the apple of your cheek, wiping away the last traces of your tears. "Do you know what you are to me? You're something to believe in again. You're the type of person that had ceased to exist for me — a fine and honest woman."

His words were like a knife twisting in your heart. The depth of his feelings, the sincerity in his voice, all served to remind you of what you had lost, of what could never be. You wanted to believe in his love, to find comfort in the fact that he still saw you as something pure and good. But the truth was that you weren't that woman anymore, and perhaps you never had been.

"Oh, my darling. You're such a child.”

James' face fell, the hope in his eyes dimming as he saw the resolve in your posture, heard the finality in your voice. He had feared this moment, the moment when you would push him away, when you would reject the only thing he had left to offer.

"Take your foolish little dream in your heart and go," you continued with your final decision and your voice broke on the last word as you fought against the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm your every sense. You wanted him to leave, to take his love and his dreams and disappear, because you knew that if he stayed, you would both be dragged down into the darkness that surrounded you.

You didn't need to turn around to know he was still there. You could feel him, like a shadow that never left your side.

"What is it? What's wrong, my dear?" his voice was gentle, almost tender, but you could hear the underlying concern.

You wanted to lash out, to tell him to leave you for good, to demand that he let you be. But the words caught in the back of your throat, tangled with the truth of what you felt — what you had always felt for him, despite everything.

"You know nothing about me," you said, voice shaking with frustration, but also with a hint of despair. "You've known me only three weeks!"

March blinked, caught off guard by your statement. Three weeks. Had it really been so little time? To him, it felt like an eternity, and at the same time, like no time at all. Every moment with you had been etched into his mind, as if you had always been there, a part of him that never left.

"Three weeks?" he repeated after you. "[Name], I've known you all my life."

"All your life?!" the words were nothing but a distant echo, incredulous. How could he say that? How could he claim to have known you, when you yourself barely understood who you were anymore?

James took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. He could see the turmoil in your gaze, the confusion and doubt that swirled around you like a storm. But he had to make you understand — had to make you see what you meant to him, what you had always meant.

"It's true," he insisted, his voice filled with quiet conviction. "I've seen you in a thousand plays, read you in as many books. While I've heard beautiful music, I've thought, 'She'd like that.' I've looked at flowers and known that one day I'd give them to you."

To him, you had always been there, in his thoughts, in his dreams. Even before the two of you met, you had been a part of him, an ideal, a vision of something pure and beautiful in a world that had long since lost its luster.

Your breath caught in your throat as you listened, heart pounding in your chest. You had heard words like these before — sweet nothings whispered in the dark after you've made love, promises made and broken — but this was different. There was no lies in his voice, no empty flattery. He truly believed what he was saying, and that sincerity shook you to your core.

But it also terrified you. Because you knew that if you allowed yourself to believe him, to accept the love he offered, there would be no turning back. You would be lost to him, bound by the same chains that held you both to this place.

"James. . ." you began with your trembling voice as you struggled to find the right words. You wanted to tell him that it wasn't real, that what he felt was just another illusion, another trick of his twisted mind. But even as you thought it, you knew it wasn't true. His love for you was truly real — so real that it had brought you back, kept you from moving on.

But was it enough? Could it ever be enough?

You felt a cold sweat on your skin as you grappled with the turmoil building inside you. The love you felt for James was undeniable, a force that had bound you together in life and in death. But with that love came a profound sense of duty, a discipline that you had clung to as a way to maintain some semblance of control over your fractured existence. Now, that discipline was being tested in a way you had never imagined.

The man himself could see the conflict in your eyes, the way your emotions warred with your duty. He had always admired your strength, the fierce determination with which you had approached everything in your life. But now, he wondered if that strength would ultimately be the thing that tore the two of you apart.

"If I betray you, I betray myself," whispering, your voice trembled with the weight of your confession. You had always prided yourself on your unwavering commitment to your principles, to the discipline that had guided you through even the darkest of times. But now, standing before the man you loved, you realized just how fragile that commitment had become, all because of him.

"If I betray myself," you continued, "I betray my discipline. My discipline is very dear to me."

The words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. You had built your life around that discipline, around the principles that had defined you. It had been your anchor, your guiding light in a world that had often seemed dark and chaotic.

"Dearer than I?" James' voice was soft, almost pleading. He could see the struggle in your eyes, the way you fought against your love for him with the discipline that had been the foundation of your existence. He knew that he was asking you to choose between two parts of yourself, and the thought of losing you because of it was almost too much to bear.

You looked up at him, heart breaking in million pieces at the vulnerability in his voice. You had never wanted to hurt him, never wanted to put him in a position where he had to question your love. But the truth was, you were questioning it yourself. Not the love itself — no, that was as real as anything you had ever known — but whether you could truly allow yourself to give in to it, to let go of the discipline that had defined you for so long.

"No," you whispered into the dark while the soft breeze blew past you. "No, not dearer than you. But I must leave."

James Patrick March stood there, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you like a death sentence. You were leaving him — this time, forever. The love you had shared, the bond that had once seemed unbreakable, was now shattered, and there was nothing he could do to stop you from disappearing into the void where he could never follow.

For a moment, he said nothing, his heart a cage of grief, anger, and desperation. He had always prided himself on his composure, his ability to remain calm and in control, even in the face of the most dire situations. But now, with the woman he loved standing before him, ready to walk out of his life forever, all that control began to crumble.

"You gave me your heart, you know?" James finally spoke, his voice low and strained, as if each word was being torn from the depths of his soul. "And now you'd like me to hand it back to you, whole again. But I won't."

You flinched at the bitterness in his tone, but you held your ground, soft eyes betraying the sadness that mirrored his own. You had made your decision, but it was clear that it was one that pained you just as much as it pained him.

"You will live a long time yet, [Name]," the man continued, his voice growing stronger, more resolute, as if he were steeling himself against the inevitable. "An eternity without me."

He paused for a moment, hoping to find any sign that you might change your mind, that you might see the madness in what you were about to do. But there was nothing — just the same quiet determination that had always been a part of you, the same unyielding strength that he had fallen in love with.

"You will look into the faces of passersby, hoping for something that will, for an instant, bring me back to you. But it won't. You will find moonlit nights strangely empty," he went on, his voice now a haunting whisper. "Because when you call my name through them, there will be no answer."

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. James felt a sharp pang in his chest, a sense of helplessness that he had never known before. He was losing you for real, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Always your heart will be aching for me," he said, his voice trembling with the intensity of his emotions. "And your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that you did a brave thing."

He took a step closer, reaching out to gently lift your chin so that your eyes met once more. The pain in your gaze was almost too much for him to bear, but he held it, wanting you to see the truth in his own eyes. He wanted you to feel his own pain.

"But know this, my dear," the whispered affection left his lips so naturally when it came to you and that was why it all hurt too much. He'd never change. "You may think you're doing the right thing, the brave thing, by leaving. But there will come a time when you will question it — when the loneliness becomes too much, when the nights grow too long, and the silence becomes unbearable. And in those moments, you will remember me. You will remember what we had, and you will wish, with all your heart, that you had chosen differently."

He let his hand fall away, stepping back as the finality of your decision settled over him like a blanket. There was nothing more to say — nothing that could change what was about to happen.

"You will never be free of me. No matter how far you run, or how long you hide. I will always be a part of you, just as you are a part of me."

You swallowed hard, tears now spilling freely down your cheeks again as you took one last look at the man you had loved with all your heart. The man you were about to leave behind.

"Goodbye, James," you whispered, voice breaking. "Goodbye."

And with that, you turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows, leaving James alone in the suffocating silence of the room you had once shared.

As the door closed behind you, the reality of your absence crashed over him like a brutal wave, and for the first time in his life, James Patrick March felt truly, utterly lost.

[republicsglory]

i think the faeries of cookie run kingdom in general are a waste and that's really sad </3

okay, face it. faeries are already a banger concept, and kingdom's twist on them is really unique! and very ironic — fae are often depicted to be allergic to silvers. really fun spin on it.

but god..... head in hands.... what did you DOOOOOOOO. it's no secret that the beast yeast arc was (and still is) a mess. but i think it's really sad how these sick ass concepts just.. get executed so poorly??

the thing is, in the 3rd anniversary, devsisters was trying to bite off more than they could chew. the introduction of the beasts was sudden, they felt pretty shoehorned in. i COULD say shadow milk is exempt from this — he's got some decent foreshadowing! can't say the others have it going for them...

okay, sure, introduce the beasts. introduce the faerie kingdom with them. these two things of course go hand in hand. BUT HOLD YOUR HORSES WITH THE BEASTS???

it's okay for crk to introduce new nations! but the faerie kingdom was out of the BLUE. nothing leading to it whatsoever. how are we supposed to deduce anything from what, white lily's prologue asset?

it's very possible to introduce a new nation and do it right. dare i say the créme republic? there were previous mentions and hints to it ingame, making its introduction decent. see — if executed correctly enough, the faerie kingdom may not have needed too much of that.

let's say.. i dunno... two beast yeast episodes are equal to two days of odyssey. in two days of odyssey past ch1, that'd give us enough about the créme republic and time to learn about it! the good parts, and the gritty. BUT in the 3rd anniversary they were obviously trying to make it a little TOO big...

it'd have been nice to see those two episodes focus around the faerie kingdom, its traditions, its denizens and general environment and culture. there could've been problems without too much of a big bad, hell we could've had an almost beast escape. but then again, it WAS the anniversary, but was releasing lily not enough?

now don't get me wrong here — shadow milk had a spectacular introduction! he kind of saved the story i can't lie LOL but was his releasing from the seal..necessary so soon? of course, we'd just be delaying the inevitable, but it'd be nice to just..explore our surroundings a little first.

most information on faeriewood and the silver kingdom are in the LIMITED artbook </3 which kinda. sucks.

we should've also had time to meet the characters more. elder faerie dying is chill with me, nice to know devsisters aren't afraid to kill someone permanently. the problem is, his death was notably supposed to have impact. but like most people felt nothing... because elder faerie is more or less a plot device. give him a character, traits we can attach ourselves to!

there's a Lot more i could rant about actually, but my wrist hurts and i'm tired. i've posted stuff about the silver knights before. just had to let some of this out. tldr the faerie kingdom and faeries are a cool concept but dear god they were executed AWFULLY

[redscreendarkwin]

People being stupid (again, what a surprise)

Saw someone say that people who have "limiting beliefs" such as believing race changing and aging yourself down to date minors is wrong will keep you from shifting. Bitch, explain all the other shifters who have shifted (including myself through minishifts) with said "limited beliefs". Actually, explain anti-shifters who got into shifting because they didn't believe it wasn't real until they shifted.

You could literally claim ANYTHING is a "limited belief". Like for example, murder. I along with other shifters believe that murder is wrong. Does it mean I'm not gonna shift because of that? NO. Just because murder drs exist doesn't mean you should go to them just like how people who are not a certain race shouldn't shift to be another. Or like how if you're an adult, you should leave minors ALONE and not shift for them. Because that's stupid as fuck and I don't know about the rest of you people who claim anything is a "limited belief" but I have morals.

Like, you realize those people who murder innocent people in their drs could literally claim if you’re against it that that’s a limiting a belief. Some of yall don’t even think your arguments through and it SHOWS.

Do you see how your argument makes no logical sense?

This app has genuinely shown me that the majority of y'all are chronically online. Jumping through hoops to make it seem like you're not attracted to children or gaslighting minorities into thinking that race changing is ok just because you have a few Uncle Tom's backing you up.

"Well, I'm already that age in my dr so why does it matter?" why are you attracted to that child in the first place that you want to shift for them? Answer that, diddy. You're telling me that you see it as perfectly ok for 30 year old shifters to age themselves down to date someone who's 12 or even younger?

"B-b-b-but I'm already that race in my dr so why is it bad?" Maybe it's the fact you're purely using it for aesthetics/fetishization? If you're white, don't argue with me. I am never gonna look at your opinion as valid so you can stop typing on your keyboard now. Go outside.

I'm also so tired of people saying "It's not your dr, why should you care?" As if it's not human to care when people are culturally appropriating my or other people's culture for aesthetics/fetishizations or being pedophilic. Y'all care when people literally MURDER innocent people in other drs, why is it so different with this? Using your logic, we shouldn't care because it's not our dr.

And it’s so ironic that shiftblr proclaims itself as people who don’t spread false information when one of the biggest shiftblr blogs (this is targeting a specific person) is spreading false information like “if you don’t believe ____ you won’t shift.” You are quite literally doing the very thing you hate on shiftok for doing..

This app is FUCKED.

And dont try to debunk my post if you aren’t even gonna read my post in its entirety. Hint hint, you know who you are 😉

[godimus]

Hello hello!! Im really really looking for Jazz x reader fics at the moment, so please can we have some soft story with him? you can choose which Jazz you want! (I dont prefer bayverse but we cool!)

Also take care!! <3

Jazz X Gender Neutral! Reader

The humming melody of an engine fills the air with tranquility as I watch the passing luminous lights emitted by the city in the dimness of the night, a warm seat softly vibrating under me as if enveloping me to an embrace. I struggled to maintain my attention at the scene from the side window through heavy lidded eyes, my perception gradually blacking out as I surrender to the comfort of the void.

“Awe, don’t sleep on me now.” A teasing voice followed by a chuckle exited the car’s speakers. “I won’t. I was just thinking.” I denied groggily, a little flushed from almost falling asleep on the slightly too amused bot. “What are you thinking about?” Jazz’s tone shifted, still playful but laced with curiosity. I could almost feel the slight rumble of his engine matching the rhythm of his words.

I paused, biting my lip. "Ah you know, about everything.. and maybe about how far we’ve come.” The calming atmosphere surrounding me took me into thinking about matters involving these bots such as the one accompanying me here and now. “Can I ask you something, Jazz?”

The blue and white bot was always bursting with high spirits and effortlessly managing to fill any room he’s in with positive energy. As expected, he easily captured my full attention and despite being very alien, he had, over time, become intimately aware of my lifestyle without needing much guidance, as such, we had taken to regularly contacting and meeting whenever his duties allowed. During these encounters, I would inquisitively interview him about the Cybertronian world and its intricacies. He always answered my questions—though not without teasing me endlessly about my curiosity. However, I never had the opportunity to reveal to him the mysteries our own world harbors.

Jazz hummed. ��Whatever keeps that frame of yours up and around.” I giggled lightly, his playful charm never failing to brighten the mood. “It’s nothing serious. Just… thinking about how different things would be if you hadn’t shown up in my life.”

His engine rumbled gently, almost as if in response to my words. “Yeah? You think I’ve made that much of a difference?” There was something deeper behind his tone now, a hint of genuine curiosity mixed with his usual easygoing manner.

I glanced out the window, the city lights blurring together in a soft haze as we cruised through the night. “You and your kind… you’ve made everything feel larger than life. Every day feels like there’s more to discover, more to understand. And yet, I’ve never really told you much about my world, have I?”

A brief silence followed, broken only by the rhythmic whir of the road beneath us. Jazz’s voice came through, softer this time. “Nah, you’ve been pretty tight-lipped about it. But that’s okay. I figure you’ll share when you’re ready.”

I bit my lip again, considering his words. He was right—I had always kept him in the dark about the intricacies of Earth, our struggles, our stories. Maybe it was because, deep down, I felt like our world was too small compared to his. But now, with him beside me, maybe it was time to change that.

“Well,” I began, heart racing a little, “maybe it’s time I start telling you some things. About us. About me.” Jazz’s engine purred, his curiosity palpable even through the subtle vibrations of the car. “I’m all ears.”

“There’s so much to say, every time we talk about your world, it seems like it’s not much different than ours in many aspects; in the way that your social and cultural structures variant.”  I had been staring at the view through the window while reflecting on our similarities. “Despite our differences in several other things, I feel more connected to you than I have with anyone else.” There was a moment of quietness inside the car. “Is that so, kiddo? Well, I can’t blame ya, I just got that knack of turning anything I touch into a fine thing.” A purring voice left the car’s cabin trembling slightly under me, my heart skipping for a second.

I chuckled, a little embarrassed but not surprised by the effect he had on me. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” I replied, half-joking, but my voice was more serious than I intended.

Jazz’s engine purred again, almost like a quiet laugh. “Ain’t gotta be shy about it. We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, we have,” I said softly, the weight of those words sinking in. I leaned my head back against the seat, letting the soothing vibrations of the car lull me into a peaceful haze. “I guess I’ve just been afraid of saying too much. Of showing too much.” Jazz let out a low hum, almost as if he was mulling over my words. “You don’t have to worry about that with me, kiddo. You can lay it all out. I’m listening.”

I smiled to myself, comforted by his words. “Maybe that’s exactly what I needed to hear.”