#i didn't have much time to do this because i'm at a convention

[gl1tchr]

Do you think Paul Dano’s riddler is going to die in this universe? And or any of the other rogues (joker Penguin etc.) ?

That is a TOUGH question. I've tried to think about how Reeves used death in Batman, and how death is used in The Penguin to figure out who's *heading* towards it, and it's hard! Death in the Reevesverse is very indiscriminate. It takes the good, the bad, those trying to get better, those actively choosing to be worse. Is Edward's path leading him towards death, or is the more apt narrative punishment for his crimes being forced to continue living in his own mind? I think I lean towards the latter. I've always held firm that Arkhamverse Riddler is HEAVY inspo for Dano Riddler in terms of his narrative decline he will experience over the course of the movies. Beginning as a (still unethical and frankly delusional about his motives) well-intentioned vigilante genuinely doing what he thought would fix things (Early Riddler YO when he's still trying to go thru conventional routes to uncover corruption), to a more overtly violent and vindictive antagonist (End of R:YO and Batman 2022), and finally, into a severely deluded, broken man with very little self awareness because every moment he spends in introspection is painful. He must reckon with his actions and it is brutal, and THAT is his punishment. The quieting of his mind through death is a mercy for Riddler, AND MAYBE with the themes Reeves is going for, giving the Riddler PEACE could be a possible choice depending on what is set up in the second movie! Though, I'm leaning towards his narrative punishment being to live with who he is; Edward Nashton, The Riddler.

WARNING: I mention suicide by explosives ahead

AN ADENDUM; This is just something cool my brother thought of when we talked about Ed's future in the narrative and he agreed that killing him off isn't the move, HOWEVER, we explored some ways in which that could be done in and I really enjoyed his. I've talked about how I think Joker is rearing up to really HARDCORE manipulate Edward. I can't tell you how they'd pull this off, but let me paint you a picture.

Movie II, as we now know, will seem to largely focus on more of the mob and gang violence aspect of Gotham and how Batman will be applying his new philosophy of Hope-Above-Vengeance philosophy. So we don't *see* Ed or Joker for 99% of it. Batman's doing his thing when he gets a call from Gordon, Riddler has been acting strangely and has implied he has information that could give Bruce some insight (See: when he went to Arkham for Joker's perspective on Edward - he seems to know when to use these Rogues for his own purposes just as much as they use too) into whoever it is he's trying to find. A familiar scene, Edward across from Bruce in the interrogation room. He looks *horrible*, but he's elated. Bruce is biting back anger - the last time he saw Edward he was *pissed*, and that hasn't settled, but he's trying to be better. He's trying to have hope. Maybe they exchange some words, but that's not really why Edward called him here. Edward tells him that nothing can save this city. If his cleansing didn't save it, if hope isn't saving it, nothing will. So go down with me, Batman. He's got an explosive, rigged to blow, and while he smiles, he kills himself and attempts to take Batman with him. But he fails. What he does do, though, is cause a massive break-out, which Joker takes full advantage of - because he set it up. He wormed his way onto Eddie's fragile mind and convinced him death would be a release AND his vengeance against Batman. But Joker knew this wouldn't kill Batman, be that through some intuitive hunch or maybe he's familiar with how resilient he is. Either way, he will have convinced Edward to take his life if it meant taking down who he both despises and craves so desperately, but it would be a lie. It would just be to get him out. And he would tell Bruce as much - "I did that guy a favor - he was a *mess*, he'd shake my hand if he could but - I think I saw those on the ground when I left". Edward, always someone's punching bag, months very end. So, in that way, even though death is still mercy for Edward, it's still cruel. NOW I DONT THINK THIS WORKS NARRATIVELY ON A LOT OF LEVELS, it was just a REALLY chilling thought to imagine Edward's manic joy as he accepted he was going to die, but would finally hurt someone as much as hes been hurt. I liked it a lot and thought I'd share just for funsies :]

[myriadxofxmuses]

"I feel the same way about touring. I love to fly," Gage only half joked.

While it was his preferred method of travel, being on tour made him feel free. Even on their strict schedule. It was the one time Gage didn't have to worry about being followed by cameramen. Or that his newest relationship was going up in flames because he couldn't commit - ironic considering the amount of commitment it took to be a musician. He didn't have to think about much while he was on the road, everything except his down time taken care of and when he wasn't working he was allowed to do anything he wanted. What could be better than that?

Liam couldn't help but notice the way he spoke of dancing was like he'd lost a loved one and the tinge of sadness to his smile all but confirmed the suspicion that his career was somehow tainted. He didn't pry however, the setting far too impersonal to dig. The quietest member of the group continued to observe as he started eating his dish.

"I'm a bottomless pit man," Silas proudly admitted as he ate, tapping his stomach in added confirmation. "Been that way since I was a kid. It doesn't matter what I eat, I rarely gain weight. Trust me. I've tried," he continued through another bite.

When he was a young child, it hadn't really mattered, but once his family broke away from the commune and filtered back into society, Silas had was in his teens, jumping straight in to public school after being homeschooled his entire life. Not an easy leap. Especially being a new kid with lots of rumors about your family and their previous lifestyle. Add in scrawniness and a propensity for less conventional interests - namely rock music and the color black - and you can understand why his Midwesterner counterparts were exactly accepting. He'd tried his damnedest to beef up so he stood a chance when they fought him, but he burned off whatever he ate almost as he swallowed it. He was just thankful there was at least one other soul there like him and they could both spit in the face of their bullies where they both sat now. Metaphorically of course - although Silas wouldn't hesitate to make it a reality if they ran into each other now.

"S'there food at every bar in Korea?" Gage asked with genuine wonder as he took a bite.

"I never would have pegged you as a dance teacher," Liam said as he took one of the anchovies and ate it without issue - he in fact didn't mind the saltiness of the fish. "Especially after hearing your demo," he added in compliment.

Silas' eyes widened with the arrival of the rest of their food. "This is more like it," he said softly as he began to dig in. "What made you decide to get into that?" he asked Jiwon through his first bite. "Ballet stuff," he added for clarity with a small flourish of his hand.

Gage and Adam started in on their own dishes, the lead singer pleasantly surprised with his meal. Adam was just happy to have food other than fish. And it was all delicious. "You really know how to pick," Adam said with a raise of his fork - never able to quite get chopsticks down. "This shit is good as fuck," he added complimentary as he took another bite.

[lilmoonberry]

Happy Friday 🖤

[leatherbookmark]

i decided to give a k-bl series a chance -- i'm not a fan of k-dramas, and most bls i've watched were "yeah, it's nice" at best, so this is Big -- and my loves -- reader -- what did i get in return? what did the show give me in return for my enormous leap of faith? can you guess? hm?? hm???

second-hand embarrassment through the roof STRAIGHT between the eyes

[sunderwight]

Headcanon that Shen Yuan was hotter than Shen Qingqiu, actually.

Like yeah SQQ being a cultivator gave him a boost to enough attributes + being in a stallion novel where everyone is either unrealistic hot or dog's butt ugly got the Shen Qingqiu body extra points, and he wasn't bad looking to begin with. Plus not being ill is vastly more important to the new Shen Qingqiu than those extra hotness points (Without a Cure notwithstanding). But part of the reason why he's kind of like, meh, at least I'm not hideous or anything, is because Shen Yuan's original body was a knock out.

I also like him as chronically ill, and, as many people know, beauty standards and sustained suffering are not as incompatible as they should be. Shen Yuan was conventionally attractive in part because conventional beauty standards seem to want everyone slowly dying all the time. But even setting that aside, the man had flawless bone structure, an appealing figure, captivating eyes, and the kind of voice that stopped people in their tracks.

All of which was a contributing factor to his antisocial lifestyle, actually. Despite the fact that Shen Yuan does enjoy company and requires a certain baseline of social enrichment for his enclosure, his internalized homophobia and closeting did not play well with overtures from interested parties (regardless of gender). The only way to minimize the odds of him being asked out on dates was to essentially become a shut-in, especially since even Shen Yuan can only make so many excuses before he himself starts to notice that he's going to a lot of effort to avoid specifically that avenue of socialization. Far better to just remove himself from any risk of it, and then vocally lament that oh no he's just too much of a nerd to get anywhere with women!

Anyway this largely doesn't matter much outside of sheer comedy potential for any situation where SY gets his old body/life back. Like imagine a reveal scenario where the System is going to transport them back to their old lives.

Shang Qinghua: well bro I guess this is gonna be the ultimate test of love, right?

Shen Yuan: what do you mean?

Shang Qinghua: our husbands are gonna see what we looked like back before we were glorious cultivators! they're going to have to track us down in our mundane, kinda shitty pre-transmigration lives! it's gonna be at least a little embarrassing, right?

Shen Yuan: *gets his old body back*

Shang Qinghua, normal human with average looks: ...

Shen Yuan, exemplary 11/10: ?

Shang Qinghua: what. the fuck?? bro what the fuck why are you hot???

Shen Yuan: don't make it weird

Shang Qinghua: make it weird??? why were you sitting at home reading my shitty novel when you could have been out there building your own harem???

Shen Yuan: stop exaggerating

Shang Qinghua: oh my god you've always been like this. this is it, isn't it? it wasn't even brain damage from the transmigration or something--

Shen Yuan: hey

Shang Qinghua: --you've just always been completely unaware, haven't you? every time I wrote a beautiful woman who didn't know her own appeal you'd be jumping down my throat--

Shen Yuan: because that's a stupid trope--!

Shang Qinghua: --JUMPING DOWN MY THROAT EXACTLY LIKE THAT but this whole time THIS WHOLE TIME it wasn't even a glow-up issue, you've just been that, personified, yourself--

Shen Yuan: look I know I'm not ugly but I'm not I'm hardly that good-looking

Shang Qinghua: YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE THAT TROPE AGAIN! oh my god. how many broken hearts did you leave behind when you died?!

Shen Yuan: none, I wasn't even seeing anyone--

Shang Qinghua: yeah full offense but I am nottt taking your word for that. I bet you had a harem you didn't know about in this lifetime too. I bet you had a fan club, like an anime prince

Shen Yuan: *mumbling*

Shang Qinghua: what was that?

Shen Yuan: I said... only in high school...

Shang Qinghua: oh my god

Shen Yuan: it wasn't a big deal!

Shang Qinghua: *frantically trying to see if he can find any trace of it on the internet now*

[rederiswrites]

You can train your tastes. You can choose what you see beauty in.

Lemme go further, actually. You are constantly doing so--or letting others do it for you.

Nearly two decades ago, when we were planning our wedding, I made a very firm decision not to look at any wedding planning magazines or anything with marketing material for wedding products. I wanted our wedding to be uniquely us, and I also wanted not to be bombarded by product advertisement and beautiful photo shoots of very expensive weddings. Consequently, maybe we wasted a little bit of time reinventing the wheel, but we had a wedding we were very happy with that only cost perhaps four thousand dollars at most, probably not that much, spread out over our finances and those of both our families. Our guests went home with live potted plants that we'd paid pennies for at end of season, our florist had a great time getting to design a bouquet that tested her skills because I didn't have any preconceived ideas, my dress was utterly unique--and I really do feel that those magazines would have had a corrosive effect on all that.

When we moved to this property three years ago, I spent a LOT of time looking at images online, trying to form a coherent vision for a property that was at the time a fairly blank slate. I found myself scrolling through a lot of Russian dacha Instagrams, of all things, and they unlocked something for me. Seeing the same homey make-do decorations and techniques I grew up around a continent away, the same plywood cutout old ladies and tractor tire flower planters, somehow chewed through that last binding cord of classism, and suddenly I saw the art in it. The expression of a desire to embellish and beautify, even when you have very little, even when all you can afford is things the more well-to-do consider trash. I saw the exuberance of human love for beauty in a brilliant flower bed planted next to a collapsing shed--it didn't need to be perfect to be worthwhile. They didn't wait til everything was pristine to start enjoying things. And now I earnestly and unironically covet my own version of the tractor-tire Christmas tree at the farm down the road.

We've spent centuries now idolizing the manicured estates and quaint country retreats of the European wealthy elites. We've turned thousands of miles of living ecosystem into grass deserts in service of this vision. We need to start deliberately retraining our tastes. Seek out images of a different idea of beauty and peace. I'm not telling you what it'll be. I'm telling you this is not involuntary. You can participate. You can look at the many beautiful examples of native xeriscaping for arid climates, or photos of chaotic tangles of wildflowers, tamed by narrow paths, a bench under an arbor overwhelmed with wisteria. Maybe instead of trying to get lawn to grown under your mature trees, you'd actually get far more joy out of a patch of dirt. A hammock. A firepit ringed with log sections for seats.

You can free yourself from harmful conventions of taste and beauty, and you do it through imagining something better.

[room-surprise]

New Ryoko Kui Interview from Anime Expo 2024 (Summary/Commentary)

This interview is unintentionally hilarious. It's much shorter than the other interview, and every question was met with either a polite non-answer or a flat-out "No." Kui embodied this elf lady she drew for the entire thing:

Kui really wasn't having any of it. Every time the interviewer tried to ask a leading question about things the fandom thinks are extremely central to the manga, Kui basically answered no/I don't care/You're overthinking it/I wasn't suggesting what you're assuming I was suggesting.

My summary/commentary of the interview under the cut.

Please keep in mind these are my opinions, based on my knowledge of Japanese social conventions, and how I personally read the interview!

Q: Dungeon Meshi is about the power of eating in groups/family, do you have any food memories or recipes you can share with us that are important to you? A: No. (In other interviews Kui has stated that she doesn't like eating, other people seeing her eat, or watching others eat, and that she used to eat her meals in the toilet to avoid being around other people during meals. This is a common thing people who are shy, bullied, or socially avoidant do in Japan.)

Q: What meal in DM do you want to eat? A: None of them, I'm a picky eater.

Q: You obviously love TTRPGs. A: Uh...Not really... I've never played one, I just read about them for research purposes. (In other interviews Kui has stated she's never played a TTRPG because she doesn't have friends she can do it with. The fact that so many people in the world do have that many friends they are that close to was very shocking to her. She was amazed that people would actually role-play in front of other people. This, plus other things Kui has said in the past ("I'm not good at human relationships"), suggests that she's not very socially active.)

Q: Your fantasy ecosystem is so complex, how did you build it? A: I though about it, and then I used my imagination. (This is kind of an ice-cold burn. Like a writer saying "I wrote one word, and then another, and then I kept adding words until the book was done.")

Q: Do you love monsters as much as Laios? A: No. But I do like them a lot, and I've loved them since I was a kid.

Q: How'd you design Laios' ultimate monster? A: I used the childhood memory of wanting to design the coolest, strongest monster.

Q: A lot of fans think Laios is autistic, especially because of his fight with Toshiro. A: I wrote him to be a normal guy that anyone can relate to. I don't think he's special or unusual. Both he and Toshiro have problems and they both need to work on communicating better. (Kui saying she didn't write Laios as autistic doesn't mean you should shit on other fans who read him as autistic. All it means is that he's not canonically autistic, and you can't say "Laios being autistic is the foundation of the entire manga." Kui saying that she didn't intentionally write Laios as autistic doesn't invalidate the interpretation, it just means saying Laios is autistic is an interpretation, and not a concrete fact. Also worth noting that labeling Laios as autistic might come across as very rude for a Japanese person. Kui may not want to call Laios autistic due to social stigma.)

Q: Tell us about the Senshi fanservice. A: Calling it "fanservice" feels wrong to me. He's just an older man who doesn't care if people see his underwear, something I've experienced in real life. It might make some people uncomfortable but Senshi's just living his life, I thought that was funny. Laios is a bit uncomfortable seeing people in their underwear. (Holy shit. This answer is the equivalent of Kui firing a shotgun directly in the interviewer's face and screaming "it's not fucking fanservice." She's being VERY direct for a Japanese person, and implying that she doesn't like people calling the Senshi pantyshots fanservice, that she sees them as comedy.)

Q: But Senshi's handsome isn't he? A: All dwarves are handsome :) (This is a complete non-answer, and after that previous answer, it's very likely Kui is trying to brush the interviewer off. This is most likely Kui saying "Please stop this line of questioning/I don't want to talk about this anymore.")

Q: What inspired Marcille's dungeon lord dress? Her friends all make fun of her but I thought it looked nice. A: There's no specific reference. I made it up to look like her mom's dress and added a childish head covering. The dress is totally normal, her friends making fun of Marcille is a joke. They're just not used to seeing Marcille in that kind of clothing, so it seems weird to them. They don't actually think the dress is that strange or uncool.

Q: Did you expect the strong fan reaction to Marcille and Falin's relationship? A: I don't think about how the fans will react when I'm writing. (Another complete non-answer. She doesn't want to discuss the topic of Farcille and avoids it like a landmine. Honestly, good for her. She wants fans to feel free to think what they want and have their own interpretations.)

Q: Will you write a spin-off about Izutsumi getting revenge on the person who made her? A: Maybe, maybe not. Probably not. I think Izutsumi's pretty happy as she is and just wants to live her life.

In short, Kui's reaction to a lot of the fandom opinion questions was:

EDIT: Also, looking at the headline/page summary for the article, it's uh...insanely misleading.

"We sat down with Kui-sensei at Anime Expo 2024 to discuss the community of food, why Senshi is so sexy, seeing neurodivergence in Laios, and more." Kui literally said no in response to all of those questions, this summary of their own interview implies that there was anything discussed, and not just Kui telling them "no" to each question.

[luveline]

Helllloooo :) if at all possible, could I request a fic for when stripper!reader realizes that Spencer actually like-likes her? Maybe he finally makes a real move or plans a “fancy” date to show her how much she means to him? She definitely wouldn’t believe him at first/think she deserves it, but if it could be a happy ending, I’d appreciate it so much. 🥺🥺

🐈‍⬛ thank youuuu

ty for requesting <3 fem

He smells like coffee. 

"Hi!" you say, bending under the weight of his hug. 

"What are you," —he drags his face against your cheek— "doing here, I thought you were," —his hand cups your neck as he pulls away— "going to Moira's for the weekend?" 

"You sound so happy," you say, nonplussed. 

"Yeah I'm happy. Do you wanna stay over? We can go to the movies, or we can get takeout, we can do both." Spencer beams at you. "Sorry, I'm– I'm rushing. I'm just happy. Is everything okay? What happened to house sitting?" 

"Oh, nothing, she missed her flight," you say. "Can I come in?" 

Spencer ushers you inside. His apartment is cleaner than usual. He's actually had time to clean, it seems, the faint scent of disinfectant alive in the kitchen and fresh laundry folded on the table behind the couch. He follows your eyes. "I did the stuff you left, last time. But I ended up with like, three pairs of your socks? How did that happen?" 

"You didn't have to." 

"Why wouldn't I?" He goes to walk off but stops, twisting around to give you another hug from the side. "Tea?" 

Your face feels hot. "Yes, please." 

Spencer takes to the kitchen to make tea, one of your shared routines. He grabs the kettle from the cabinet, two mugs, and two teabags. You don't know why you stay in the living room as he fills the kettle. He's putting it on the stove when he says, "Oh, hey, I got you, uh– you liked my soap, right? The chamomile? So I got you some. It's in my room, and I got you some of your chocolates from Leaven." 

"You did?" 

You fail to hide your excitement. Spencer waves you away without looking. "They're with the soap."  

You laugh to yourself, leaning down to pull your sneakers off of your heels. You leave them by the couch and slip over the hardwood into his room, where your promised soap and chocolate sit on one of his desks. He calls them your chocolates, but you only ever tried them because he saw you looking at them one time and bought them as a surprise. You've been hooked on them ever since. 

You're thinking about what joke you can make to hear him laugh. Something on the nose about him ruining your future career aspirations or a flirty nothing, maybe. You just want me to fall out of shape so I can't work. 

The suitcase on the bed distracts you. Open, half packed. 

"Are you going somewhere?" you ask him, chocolates and soap held loosely to your stomach. 

Spencer takes the kettle off of the heat, bringing it to the two mugs to top them one at a time. "What?" 

"Your suitcase?" 

His shoulders tighten just so. "Well, there's this convention happening but I hate driving in the dark, so I figured I'd stay up there." 

"When, tonight?" 

"Yeah." He picks up the mugs and shoots you a smile. "But obviously I'm not going now." 

Obviously? Spencer rounds the side of the couch to sit down, murmuring for you to come and sit with him. You follow his order without question, setting yourself on the couch cushion beside him, and find there's little resistance in you to leave space between your thighs. He leans into you as soon as he's able and hands you your mug. 

There's something in his eyes. A warmth. A real affection. "I'd definitely rather be with you here than without you there. Even if there's a guest speaker who's actually managed to split shared arteries between conjoined twins while they're still in the womb." 

"You're interested in that stuff?" 

"Just for fun." He doesn't drink his tea. He probably didn't want any, a coffee mug already on the table, but he always makes two cups. You think it might be so you don't feel like you're an imposition. He's that special brand of thoughtful. 

"Can I ask you something?" you ask, your heartbeat a tangible thump under your skin. It's a silly question guided by a stupid thought, but you have to ask. You've always wanted to see other people's hands, so to speak, uncomfortable with the unknown. 

"Anything." 

You've exposed the most private parts of you and still it's hard to be vulnerable. It's easier knowing you're with Spencer, but not easy. "Do you like me?" 

Spencer doesn't do either of you the disservice of pretending he doesn't know what you mean. His voice is measured but shyness creeps in, an almost questioning lilt to his words as he says, "Well, yeah. I thought you already knew that." 

"I thought you… appreciated the aesthetic of me." 

"I do." He looks at your forehead rather than your eyes. "You know you're pretty, and your dancing, it's– it's pretty too. I think you're beautiful, but that's really not the only thing about you. You've been remarkably easy to fall for." 

His cheeks are suddenly red. A blotchy staining under his cheekbones and up over the bridge of his nose. He wouldn't lie, but the blush cements that he's telling the truth. Spencer really, truly likes you, enough to buy you the gifts that sit in your lap and to cancel trips. He'd rather stay home with you and drink tea on the couch than be anywhere else. 

"Spence, if you think it was easy for you, you have no idea what it's been like for me," you say quietly. That draws his eyeline back to your face. You smile at him gently. "No idea." 

He puts his mug down on the table to hug you. "Careful of your tea," he says, his smile audible.

You hug his arm to your chest with one hand. When he kisses the side of your head, you're pleasantly shocked. 

"I didn't realise," you say. "Sorry, Spence, I never–" Never thought you'd like me like that. "I didn't know." 

"I was just waiting for you to catch up." 

[shaniacsboogara]

jojo siwa claiming she's revitalizing gay pop and releasing 'karma' on the same night as conan gray's 'found heaven' and chappell roan's 'good luck babe' is so poetically ironic. it's like the universe WANTS to draw a comparison between jojo and queer pop artists.

the thing that makes queer pop compelling as a genre is the unique storytelling and experiences of queer artists told through their music. that doesn't necessarily mean every song by a queer artist has to be about their queerness. they don't have to scream "hey i'm gay!" in every single song they write. but claiming to be "reinventing gay pop" should mean you're telling interesting stories about your queer experience, right???

'found heaven' by conan gray is about growing up as a queer kid with religious guilt and disapproving parents. he equates being in love in an authentic way to "finding heaven", and the piece as a whole resonates with a TON of queer people in different stages of their lives. some people can look back at their childhoods and how much they've grown since then, some can relate because they're currently going through what conan's written about, and some people can sympathize with the way some queer people are treated, even if they aren't necessarily queer themselves.

'good luck babe' is a song about queerness and compulsory heterosexuality. chappell sings about a woman she was in a relationship with who decided to settle down in a conventional marriage despite being queer. the song reflects the denial a lot of queer people go through (specifically regarding the lesbian experience) and the unfortunate way a lot of them end up repressing who they are to conform to societal standards. it's fun, it's campy, but its message is still poignant.

as for karma… there's nothing inherently queer about that song. the music video for the original version, ‘karma’s a bitch’ by brit smith, featured a heterosexual storyline. jojo buying the rights to a song she didn't write isn't inherently a bad thing, a lot of mainstream artists do that all the time. however, if you're claiming to be a pioneer of the “gay pop” genre and your music doesn't reflect any queer themes or experiences, is it really “gay pop”? again, queer artists don't have to write exclusively about their queerness, but if you try to present yourself as a voice for the queer community without telling any of their stories, you're not going to be lauded as some revolutionary figure. if any of the songs on jojo’s album are actually about her experience as a lesbian or contain any queer themes, then i think she'd qualify as a “gay pop” artist. but so far, she's given us a faux edgy, generic pop song and tried to market it as some insane never-been-done-before feat. and honestly, if her entire album is like this and she continues to market herself this way, it's a slap in the face to all the genuine artists and storytellers in the queer community.

but let's stop talking about jojo siwa and start talking about the incredible queer artists who are truly breathing life into the "gay pop" genre: chappell roan, renee rapp, ben platt, conan gray, girl in red, kevin atwater, baby queen, mitski, clairo, dodie, and SO MANY MORE (feel free to add on some of your favourites because there are so many wonderful artists out there <3)

also: if you have a different perspective on this situation i would absolutely love to hear what you think and if you agree / disagree with this! i love discussing topics like this so feel free to reblog with your own take

[sashayed]

I haven't said as much about electoral politics this year as I have in previous cycles, because I am exhausted like everyone else and have nothing new or helpful to add. That is still true, so caveat lector I guess lmao!!! Happy American Election Day Fellow Sufferers!!

I have been experiencing an internal backlash the last few years to my extremely Sorkinpilled D.C. private school upbringing -- my childhood spent as a kind of convent schoolgirl in the faith of The System Is Good If We All Participate, which of course has a uhhh let's say generously a minimal engagement with the ways in which many of us are by design shut out of participating. I don't think idealism is necessarily childish, but I think MY idealism certainly has childish qualities, an undergirding of 90s feel-goodism, of civic participation as a subtle ego stroke and of voting -- although I would never have consciously put it this way -- as a way to feel superior to people who don't vote.

Lately there has bubbled up in me a sludgy, adolescent fury at this whole stupid country that has made it very very hard to feel like I should do even the bare minimum. For these people? AMERICANS? The ones that not only want Donald Trump to be president but saw what happened the first time and were like, We love this, do it again but worse? Whatever, fuckos. "I hope you people get your dearest wish and it chews you to death slowly," I may have thought.

I have also thought: why is it so controversial to ask elected officials to stop funding a genocide? Why are we treating people who make that ask, who are watching the current administration directly fund death on a mass scale and objecting to that choice, as if they are being babies and just need to get over it? How are they supposed to get over it? Why is anybody over it?

Anyway all this means that I, a known chipper door-knocker and caller of congresspeople, have been pretty low-key this current cycle. I think that is OK. I don't want to make this a big dramatic confessional about how I didn't write enough postcards or whatever. We all get exhausted and this was my turn.

But it has also been an illuminating cycle in that it's made it clear to me how much at my big age I still want politics to make me feel good, and when they don't, I still have the urge to throw a lil tantrum about it! I can get very superior and intellectual about how right-wing operatives manipulate their voters emotionally WITHOUT EVEN NOTICING that I too have been manipulated, in my case into the feeling that nonparticipation is a kind of revolutionary act.* Just absolute "I threw it on the GROUND" logic happening inside my head. "Maybe if I don't vote I will be doing Quiet Quitting, which is uhhhhh anticapitalist." I'm not a part of your system!!!

Anyway, I am trying to have self-compassion about it, and one way for me to do that is to project my internal experience onto a theoretical reader. That would be you, my imaginary friend who clicked on this post for some reason even though you have already decided not to vote! I just want to tell you that I am more sympathetic to your point of view than I have ever been in my whole life, and I'm sorry I have historically been a glib, holier-than-thou asshole about it in ways that may actually have made you MORE resistant to civic participation.

And you're right: it doesn't make that big a difference whether I personally vote or not, or whether you do. But if there are hundreds of us, and I think there are, then each of those people individually do starts to matter.

I guess I would humbly request that you and I both pay attention to what people who need help are actually asking for. I would ask that we both notice who wins when we abdicate this single responsibility. I would remind us both that participating in the electoral process is not some kind of weird either-or with participating in decentralized community building and mutual aid, and the best people we know do both. Isn't it interesting that somehow, insidiously, without even consciously becoming aware of this belief, we have started to think that you can only do one or the other? Who is telling us that story? Who does it serve?

Anyway. I took the stupid 90 minute round trip to my polling place which was VERY hot for some reason and I stood in the stupid line and some babies waved at me and I cast my vote for Kamala Harris and I'm glad I did it in the same way I'm glad after I do the dishes or take a stupid shower. Doing work doesn't always feel like anything. I also saw a really wonderful small black and white dog that I thought was a cat on a leash. I would not have seen that dog if I hadn't gone to vote. So politics can still make you feel good!!!

*I mean all this analysis is cute and everything BUT ALSO i did switch antidepressants twice in the last year, an astonishingly grueling process that almost made me [affect the trout population]. Could these things be related? hmmmmmmm, don't understand the question, won't respond to it.

[stxrvel]

intrusive (4)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. THIS IS EDITED!! there are new scenes!! 16/9. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! sadness, lots of mixed feelings, self-hatred, flashbacks, flashbacks. a/n. hi guysssssssssss. its been a while, i know and im so sorry. i hope this chapter doesn't feel too rushed. truth be told, between life issues and that i've been having trouble with inspiration for scenes it took me a while to build this, but surprisingly i'm pleased with the result. now, where do you think we're going and what will we do from here on out?????? surprises come, surprises go. thank you all for your continued support!! i really appreciate the feedback from all of you and reading your comments makes my days. for those who are still here, thank you. see you next time!

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There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments that kept your hair standing on end every so often or every time you remembered. They were like gaps, things you didn't know how they had gotten there, how they had happened, or how someone else knew. And you were accumulating them, suspicious, somewhat delusional and paranoid if you asked anyone, but they were held in that space in the back of your head waiting for the right moment to come out.

Between moments of lucidity and memories of the past, there were many things you had superficially let slip by.

Yuna was in front of you, her brow furrowed in concentration and her eyes almost square from the amount of time she had already spent in front of the computer. You had been at it all day, so the moment your friend appeared like it was her own living room and everyone acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary, you just plopped down on the couch with a calm expression, waiting for the perfect moment to let certain things out, to ask certain questions.

There were moments of enlightenment, there were moments of brilliant discoveries. And that day you had discovered something you had forgotten because of the brevity of its recognition, but in retrospect it was something worth knowing, even if there were still too many things, more important things, of which you were ignorant. At that moment, all gathered in the living room of your parents' house, the most important thing was what was on your mind.

“Yuna.”

Your friend barely shook her head in acknowledgement of her name. Your parents were arranging the table in the middle of the couches to settle lunch, surely a big feast like every other day for the past few days and the only reason Seojun took virtual classes that day, and your brother was ogling the dishes with his mouth ajar. Eugh.

But none of them were paying too much attention. Food, social media, ordering, direct messaging, arranging the geometrically correct dishes… everyone had their heads in their own world, and that's why you could hear the moment your father's hair touched the ground when you asked:

“You were the one who set up my book booth at the last convention?”

Four pairs of eyes bore into you.

“What?”

You looked at her expectantly, not letting the mischief interfere with your plans.

“No…! I didn't-I mean, what are you talking about?”

Yuna let out a nervous laugh, just after correcting herself when she got a blunt look from your mother. Your father stood stiffly behind his wife, the frying pan in his hands wobbling so clearly that a few drops of the soup dripped onto the wood of the floor. Your mother leaned over, leaving the plate she was carrying on the table, sending Seojun a look that caused him to swallow his saliva sonorously.

The scene was so comical that you really had a hard time not bursting out laughing.

“It's just that when I talked to Sol this morning she commented something…”

You let the words hover in the air, straining them each time it came to one of them. Yuna straightened up, completely forgetting about the computer for a second, peeling her back off the couch where she was leaning on the floor. Your father snorted in surprise so hard that he was attacked by a cough and your mother had to take the frying pan away from him before he watered down all the soup from all the shaking. Seojun hid behind your mother's legs and you just plopped down on the couch, stretching your legs over the armrest, satisfied with their reactions.

“And what did she say to you, honey?”

Your mother was the most composed, finishing arranging the dishes around the pan while your father had run out to the living room for a glass of water. Among the foursome, your mother was the only one who truly knew what dissimulation meant. You had no doubt that her sisterhood with the others in the room would end once you told them you already knew everything.

“She told me she was afraid I hadn't been able to see what you had done for me,” you frowned looking up at the ceiling, looking genuinely confused. “And it was weird, because we were talking about the last convention.”

Yuna let out a laugh, incredulous.

“And why would you be talking about that with Sol?”

Putting the antics aside, you stood up on your forearms and glared at her.

“Why did you do that?”

“What did I do?”

“Sol told me it was your idea.”

“That's not true!”

“Ah…” you held a hand to your forehead, as if you had just remembered something important. Your gaze swept around the room and Seojun cringed when your eyes landed on him. “True. She said it had been your idea.”

Before Yuna could send a warning glance at your brother, Seojun raised his hand and pointed at your friend, exclaiming:

“It was her idea! It was all Yuna's idea! Tell her mom!”

The two aforementioned closed their eyes, taking a deep breath and bringing their fingers to the bridge of their noses. Their expressions of ennui were unmatched and promptly Seojun was cringing for a completely different reason.

“You're such a jerk,” Yuna mumbled, almost barking in the direction of the poor man seeking to escape his mother's lethal gaze. Instantly, your friend turned her gaze in your direction, meeting that amused look that curled her annoyance just for a millisecond. “I thought you'd be more upset.”

“I was,” you lifted a shoulder, leaning back against the back of the couch as you listened to the string of scoldings your mom was in between yelling and whispering to your brother. “But it's impossible not to see reason when you're talking to someone like Sol.

Yuna also nodded in consideration. It was something that, not just the two of you, but all of Sol's workers agreed with. Sol had a warmth about her, a homely feel to her that made you automatically trust her and take it for granted that, if she told you everything would work out, it was because it would; whether it was by chance of the universe or because she would see to it that it did.

“Then it was a good thing you heard it from her mouth and not your inept brother's,” Yuna sent her another withering glare and you couldn't help the smile that twitched your corners as you watched your mother move the bowl of tteokbokki away from her grasp. It was so funny to see that he didn't always get the baby of the house treatment for a change.

“Were you planning on taking that to your grave?”

Yuna turned, arching her eyebrows. With her lips set in a thin line, you knew she was thinking about choosing the right words to answer you, even though that thing they'd done had led directly to the fact that, at that moment, you'd been able to afford the luxury of asking for vacation for the first time and focusing on what you truly loved to do. Even if they had worked behind your back, the result had not been so fatal.

If you took a few unwanted people out of the equation, that is.

Your friend finally softened her gaze.

“No, I knew you'd find out at some point. From whoever's mouth. A secret can only be kept from so many people.” Yuna rolled her eyes, moving to listen to your father complain from the kitchen. “But I didn't think Sol would tell you so openly. Was it on purpose?”

“Yes. I think she was trying to convince me or make up for something. I'm not sure which.”

Yuna raised her eyebrows, cocking her head in tension for barely a second. If not for the years you'd known her, you probably would've interpreted her short-lived reaction as genuine curiosity, the desire for a tidbit of gossip. But your friend's tension was palpable and it was something that left you wondering a bit, especially when she didn't speak until your father returned to the kitchen.

“Honey, I think I'm going to get a sore throat.”

There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments. There were too many things you were still ignorant of and had no idea about; things far beyond what was happening in the present.

There were things you still didn't understand, like why and how Jeon Jungkook, the country's most famous idol and probably one of the celebrities most likely to have easiest facial recognition on the street, had so stealthily stumbled upon your whereabouts or why he had acted as if seeing you again was a reunion with his lost puppy from years ago.

“Are you still upset, noona?”

Seojun watched you warily, your sidelong glance leading him to cower once more behind your father. With lunch settled and the tension gone (barely), you all had been able to enjoy an enjoyable moment. After all, the dense atmosphere that still lingered was only due to the fact that teasing Seojun was fun and more satisfying when you had no reason to do so.

It all came from a great consideration that your family, and even Sol, had for you, trying to support you however they could, even if you didn't even seek their help. As much as you wanted to (and didn't really want to) there wasn't much reason to get angry. Less so when the outcome, likewise, had been favorable.

“We should focus on what's important,” Yuna dipped her spoon into the almost non-existent conversation, finishing her meal and leaving the plate practically glistening, to which your mother was able to sketch a satisfied smile. “We have a meeting this afternoon.”

“Ah. Yes,” Seojun nodded, remembering his place as the second-in-command of the business, because you had actually been relieved of any position you might have held in your own business. “As the person in charge of the treasury of this company, I must admit that the decision made is the most appropriate and in our best interests.”

Yuna narrowed her eyes, seeming it was almost impossible for her to ignore your brother's annoying presence.

“What have you contributed to this business to call yourself the person in charge of the treasury?”

“I've done a lot for this project! Besides, you are focused on advertising. You should be in charge of the public relations department.”

“And I can't handle both?!”

“I set up all the lines of communication with the delivery people and organized the accounts with Dad!” Seojun pulled Dad's shirt collar, pulling him close to his face with a frown. Your dad only let him be, as he savored a wing. “You took charge of net with mom. We can't reverse charges now. Experience and reality speak for themselves.”

Yuna clicked her tongue, irritated.

“Whatever,” shaking her head, she flipped the computer on the table so Seojun and your parents could get a good look at the proposal you had accepted, after arduous study over the weekend as a family. “After a long board meeting, which stretched over the entire weekend, this was the accepted offer.”

You could almost see the zeros running in your brother's eyes, with a budding smile making its way across his face. Your parents looked pleased, proud. And Yuna kept that determined expression; she was really taking all this seriously and you didn't know yet how you could thank her for it.

“Ah…” your mother sighed, holding a hand to her chest. “It's finally happening.”

When she sent you that look with the sparkling eyes you couldn't help but shrink back on your spot on the floor.

“Mom, I think it's best we avoid getting too excited until we've signed.”

Your mother nodded, closing her eyes and breathing to keep her composure.

“Accepted the offer, we were summoned to their facility, which is where we will be heading after resting from this delicious lunch.” Yuna smiled radiantly in your mother's direction. Sometimes you wondered if she wasn't missed at home. But… no, she was much better off here.

“My children have to rest very well to make the best decisions at that meeting,” your mother nodded, stroking Yuna's hair superficially and getting up to pick up the dishes. Seojun got up to help her, but your father stopped him, keeping the warm smile on his face. Of all of them, your father was the most expressive, but you knew that at that moment he was holding back only because at the slightest he would burst into tears. And yes, with a simple glance in your direction, his eyes watered and he had to run away hugging the dishes against his chest.

Seojun sighed dramatically.

“I wish they had been this excited when I entered college.”

Yuna moved across the table, smacking him on the forehead that left him with an instant redness.

“What are you talking about, idiot? You celebrated all weekend.”

Seojun didn't respond, touching his forehead with a grimace. Yuna snorted, not believing your brother's audacity, and turned her focus back to the contents of the proposal you had received from Noble Publishing Apgujeong. You still remembered the screams that had echoed throughout the house when they found the letter from that publishing house in the mail, the most prestigious and probably the highest one could aspire to in the world of writing and for the purposes of editing and publishing. There wasn't a book published under that publishing house that wasn't a success, and that they had sought you out themselves was a great privilege.

“Speaking of celebrations,” Seojun took the floor again, when your parents had finished taking the dishes away and agreed that you would wash them all together before youo left for the publishing house, because nothing was good enough, ”I don't think we've had a moment to at least pop a champagne and celebrate this.”

Your parents remained thoughtful, but you were already shaking your head when Yuna spoke:

“It's true,” her frown said she couldn't believe they hadn't done it yet, but between so many chores, to-dos and new things you were discovering on this new path, you couldn't just take the luxury of doing nothing for a few hours. There was a lot to work on. “We should do it after the meeting. With the contract at home, it will be much better!”

Your father and Seojun cheered in agreement and your mother gave a few claps.

“You're working tomorrow, Yuna.”

“So what?” your friend frowned at you. “Do you think it'll be the first time I've gone to work with a hangover?”

Your mom's throat clearing startled her, and she quickly melted like pudding with a sheepish grin.

“But this time it will be for a good cause…and it won't happen again.”

Your mom nodded, not very convinced.

“Incidentally,” Yuna regained her posture, sending a glare at Seojun, ”we could have y/n finally watch the video reactions of her books.”

“You haven't seen them?” Seojun exclaimed and suddenly the four pairs of eyes felt very threatening.

“… no…”

“Mom?? Did you hear that?!”

“Sweetheart!” your father exclaimed, looking at you as if he had heard that you did something worthy of banishment. “Why haven't you seen the videos, don't you know the good things they say about you?”

“The compliments,” your mother nodded. “Almost the entire internet loves your books.”

“That's an exaggeration, mom…”

“How did you even avoid all that hype?” Seojun asked, leaning over the table. “Even Dad's TikTok wasn't spared, and he only watches National Geographic videos.”

“…I muffled a few words.”

A roar of incredulous refusals followed your words and promptly everyone was moving to corner you against the couch so you had no escape.

“There is no time to waste.” Seojun nodded in Yuna's direction and it offended you too much that the only times they agreed was to do something against you.

“Mrs. l/n, I think dessert will be popcorn,” Yuna moved her computer closer to the center of the table as Seojun settled in behind you, each of your parents on your sides as your friend opened the TikTok web app.

“Hey, no… no. I'm not ready to watch this. I'm not-”

“Nonsense, noona. Even better, this will give you a big confidence boost for the meeting this afternoon.”

You didn't believe Seojun at all. Your nerves were on edge as Yuna moved to sit next to your brother and the first words of the first video echoed in the living room:

“My honest opinion of the A Million Swords trilogy…”

-

“Do you think I might publish any of these one day?”

Your fingers drummed on the keyboard of the desktop computer, watching the letters spinning a story that no one yet knew. No one, except for you and Taehyung at that moment. His gaze was confused as his dark eyes hid behind the dark, unruly, damp locks of his hair. For a pool day, you couldn't have had a better time than writing parts of your still unfinished story, the one you used to run away to when you had a whole reality to mold in front of you. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention back then; attention to details, to gestures, to distances, to forced smiles; maybe if you had paid that kind of attention you would have been able to foresee everything that would happen later… maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much.

But at that moment, at 14, you could only see with stars in your eyes the enormous possibility that you thought writing would open up for you; the world you were about to discover, much farther away than you thought.

That weekend the pool party was at your house. Jimin had brought a gigantic inflatable pool withJungkook and they all kept splashing water in each other's eyes in the backyard. In your prolonged absence, surely, Taehyung had ventured inside the house to the only place he would know you would be if it wasn't next to them.

“Do I think? I'm absolutely sure.”

Taehyung shook the droplets slipping from the ends of his hair all over your face.

“Tae!”

“Why are you doubting it?”

“I never said I was doubting it.”

Your friend took one of the armchairs that each of the boys had recast in your room, which no matter how much you pulled them out always ended up there again, to sit next to you and watch the unfinished paragraphs on the computer screen. There were four armchairs already gathering dust in the corner of the room that you still hadn't had the heart to take them out.

“Look at that,” the brown-haired man moved his face closer to the screen, splashing more water on you, with a mischievous grin. “It was desire that stirred me, far beyond the reach of reason or any cognitive faculty. In the depths of my being, I knew with unshakable certainty that I was right. Their gaze scrutinized my every expression, searching for ways to break me, while their fingers, far from innocent, accused me relentlessly. Yet, even as the weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, there was no realm, no dimension in this vast, boundless universe where I had not chosen him above all else. Not even as the streets ignited, the houses crumbled to ashes, and the roar of thunder drowned out the cries for mercy…who writes like that?”

“y/n!”

Your other two friends appeared, reveling in the unapproved reading of the first draft of your first novel, and you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

You moved quickly to press the off button and your friends barely let out a short laugh.

“Don't ever do that again.”

“Then don't ever doubt you again.”

“I wasn't doubting! It was just a question…”

“She just wants you to be honest, Tae.” Jimin entered the room, moving right behind his friend and flashing a smile that made your hair stand on end.

“Honest...?”

“Shut up, Jimin.”

The aforementioned barely let out a laugh, under the scrutinizing and confused expressions of his other two friends.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook spoke, trying to gain ground in that unfamiliar room, clasping his hands in front of him in nervousness. He didn't even understand why he was nervous, he just knew he didn't like the obfuscated expression on your face.

“Nothing, Junkookie, Jimin's just an idiot who only knows how to spout rubbish.”

“Rubbish? Where do you even get those words from?”

“I learned it yesterday in literature class!”

“Uh-huh…”

“Stop it, Jimin!”

-

He wasn't a person to be caught off guard. His cautious attitude was something he had developed over time; with the experience of going through and surviving difficult situations; with the toughness of making strong decisions and constantly bearing the burden of being at fault for their consequences.

So no, Min Yoongi took it upon himself to plan things around him so meticulously that every aspect of his life had a place and a time; an hour and a second.

A planning so perfect that at that moment it was slipping through his hands like sand. His friend… no, Dohyun could do nothing but rest his hands against his desk sending him an obfuscated look, trying to look almost as disgruntled as Yoongi was at what he had learned would happen in that office.

“Of all the things I thought you could tell me…” Choi Dohyun shook his head, and on his face Yoongi could tell there were no words that could qualify his surprise. But he was surprised too, to be honest. He didn't know how he had summoned the fortitude to move so quickly from across town, from his study, to arrive at Dohyun's office and blurt that out to his face as if it were any Tuesday afternoon, as if he were simply inviting him to dinner at his house. “I've never underestimated you, Yoongi-ah, but this…”

“Who contacted you?”

“Who contacted me?” Dohyun let out a laugh, which felt a little heavy to Yoongi as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What makes you think I can't recognize a good deal from a distance when I see one? They call me the Shark for a reason, don't you think? I smell business like they smell blood in the sea.”

Yoongi clasped his hands at his sides, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Dohyun, who looked up and barely ran his tongue over his teeth before plopping back down on his ergonomic chair.

“The decision is already made,” was all he said to him, generating a flutter of emotions inside Yoongi.

“Who contacted you?” Yoongi insisted, feeling time slipping through his fingers. “How did you find out about… this?”

Dohyun let out a laugh, bordering on sarcasm and disbelief. Yoongi would've taken more time to think about it there, to ponder what he was doing, what his impulses were pushing him to do. But within the framework of his decisions and conflicting feelings, Yoongi had taken a path that he could no longer undo and the least he could do was avoid was to generate collateral damage to someone. Just for the chance to try, even though the probability of having the universe in his favor was microscopic, he decided not to give in to reason.

Maybe he would still be the villain in someone else's story, but in his conscience… maybe… maybe he was right and was looking for no way to excuse himself; to excuse things he could no longer change; to excuse behaviors he could no longer erase and decisions he could no longer undo.

Perhaps, too, it was the price he had to pay for what he had done. For what he had said; for what he had not said; for what he had done and what he had not done; for his action and his omission; for his perpetration and complicity. If Yoongi had known that time in his twenties that such a decision would have taken things so far, so close to the impossibility of healing, he surely would not have made it .

But to regret now, what good would it do him? To mutter apologies now, what good would it do him? To dig through the fibers of an unbridled heart, what good would it do him?

“Yoongi. I am the head of the largest publishing house in this country. If you thought I was going to see fluttering around the internet this opportunity in a million and as an entrepreneur and investor I wasn't going to take it, who are you taking me for?”

He should've dragged Namjoon away when he saw him in the parking lot, because business was his forte and not Yoongi's. Yoongi might as well cringe at Dohyun's words because how was he going to refute them. He had come with fortitude, yes. He had come with resolve and determination, yes; believing that this decision was the right thing to do, the least he could do right. And yet, at that crucial moment, with everything against him and the swords at his neck, Yoongi had his arms crossed again.

Maybe he should've dragged Namjoon along, but… how would he know if he was on his side?

“But don't worry. I'll try to keep you apart. You know I always separate personal matters from my work.”

Dohyun was a professional liar. If telling lies were a profession, Dohyun would quadruple the fortune he now boasts as the owner of the country's largest publishing house. Yoongi hated the way he covered up his poisonous words with honey, as if he couldn't see through the thin texture of the liquid how everything was corroding around him. And Dohyun was not his friend, if he wasn't sure before, he was now.

It's business, Namjoon would say, as rational and objective as ever; a businessman can't have someone around who attacks his vision, his business, that's an enemy.

Yoongi right now was a blob of green soup on Dohyun's pole, about to walk to an important meeting where he would close a million-dollar deal. His insignificance bordered on indescribability, but his diminutive presence was big enough to be considered a splinter in the foot.

The phone rang, breaking the tension in the atmosphere, and instead of answering it, Dohyun sent a glance toward the oak doors and then to Yoongi's limp body. Clasping his hands once again, it shook him inside to think that once again he allowed himself to be trampled. Once again, he was going to be the misfortune in someone's life.

“They're already here,” Dohyun almost muttered, an amused expression on his face. “You can leave now or you can stay and watch.”

Yoongi knew he'd be happy to have him there, watching him bite his tongue, trying to swallow his embarrassment. And wouldn't it be simpler to just leave, to brush against the fate he once let slip away as if it were something so trivial that it didn't tear a piece of his soul to even think about it; to brush against an opportunity he missed, selfish and presumptuous, as if he were the only one whose heart was beating with pain that day.

“I've never asked you for anything…”

“And neither have I,” Dohyun interrupted him, raising his gaze serenely, lifting his chin to acerbic dominance. “And all I'm asking you now is to stay out of my business.”

And Yoongi would've had to agree with Namjoon, because business and money definitely change a person. No one can rise to a high position, of Choi Dohyun's level, without having scored a big armory and a few degrees of tough personality willing to kill to get what they want.

“I received you out of courtesy. To Jin. But I won't tolerate another second of this.”

Dohyun mumbled, and the moment he brought the phone to his ear, Yoongi knew he had lost. Again.

“Hyung…” Yoongi closed his eyes, helplessness winning out over reason, the word sour in his mouth.

“No. I'm sorry, but no. It will happen. Just make your decision, I don't want my guests to wait too long.”

He didn't know if the grinding of his teeth was as loud as he heard it in his head. He didn't know if his behavior was over the top or understandable. He didn't know if he had a right to those emotions or if he had lost it more than ten years ago. Well, ten years in her head. He didn't know if he deserved that moment; to share that space and time and catch off guard someone who could become as cautious as he was now; because if Yoongi learned from anyone to be the way he was today, it was because of her.

He didn't know, in retrospect, if he ever made a good decision in his life.

-

i reeaally want to know your thoughts on this one!! re-edited!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592@yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @butnotmontana @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @chaotickyrith @dreamerwasfound @darlingz99

[wilwheaton]

One very simple question :)

(Tv/comics)

Marvel. Or DC?

I have liked them both and disliked them both, at different points in my life, for a variety of reasons. At the moment, I'm not paying attention to them at all.

When I was a kid, I was all about Xmen and Fantastic Four from Marvel and, Batman and Justice League (Marv Wolfman's run in the late 80s) from DC. Never really cared for Superman. The 1967 Spider-Man was awesome as a cartoon, but I rarely read the comic book.

In the 70s, I was only allowed one comic per week, usually picked out from whatever was left on that spinning rack at the drugstore. So more often than not, I ended up with something like House of Secrets or House of Mystery or one of those horror anthologies that didn't need me to read the issues before or after, like the serialized superhero comics did. I got a lot of replay value from those books.

In the 80s, I had my own money and the ability to drive myself to comic conventions, and that's when I fell in love with Sandman, Watchmen, pretty much the entire Prestige Format that became Vertigo. I recall feeling like Marvel was for kids, then, and DC was serious. I was only 16, so take that for what it's worth.

But speaking of being 16, I'm gonna focus on Batman for a sec. I loved Batman 89, and I think all the efforts to make a Batman movie ever since have fallen short in ways I couldn't predict back then. It's gotten better with age and by comparison, for me. Michael Keaton is my favorite Batman, the way Christian Bale is my favorite modern Bruce Wayne (they both pale next to Pure. West. if anyone asks me).

The OG Batman series is maybe my favorite series of all time not called Star Trek or The Prisoner, and the 1966 movie is my favorite of all the Batman movies. Of course I love the animated series, and I get to be Blue Beetle in Brave and the Bold, so that's pretty awesome and its whole own thing.

Turning to the current moment, with rare exception, all the MCU and DCU movies do nothing for me. I thought I must have been missing something, so tried really hard to give them a chance to knock me out. I watched as many of the MCU movies as I could stand, and I just felt exhausted and bored by all of it, by the time I got to ... I can't even remember. Something with maybe Thanos and Ant-Man? I felt like it was a big, complicated mess of fan service and meetings that could have been e-mails, resulting in in a stew full of interesting ingredients that have all blended together into a flavorless paste. I do enjoy all the James Gunn movies, though, even if Chris Pratt is the worst Chris, because James always centers the characters and their conflicts, then uses the action and stunts to support the story.

I feel like a lot of this sounds harsh, but even Star Wars, my favorite movie when I was a kid, has grown into something I don't recognize or care about. I'm old. I know what I like and what I don't like. I'm not patient like I once was, and it's clear I'm not the person those studios want in the theatre, anyway. I could make that joke about how it's the children who are wrong, but I accept that I am not in the demo, and I am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the spectacle and the experience of seeing those films with an enthusiastic audience. I just won't be there with you, but you can find me in the parking lot, yelling at a cloud.

...wow that's a very big answer to a very simple question.

[cardentist]

this is all gonna be very disorganized and rambly, but

"the male loneliness epidemic" as a concept is like.

does anybody remember when it was common knowledge in feminist spaces that part of the Point of feminism was recognizing that All groups of people were negatively impacted by sexism?

I Remember the ridiculous "mens rights activist" era. I REMEMBER feminist talking points at the time pointing out that it was Toxic Masculinity that contributed to things like men not being able to be vulnerable with the people who care about them, or men (or Boys) not being taken seriously as rape victims.

and the point of this Wasn't to blame men for their own pain, to blame men for the system that they were negatively impacted by. but to point out how Feminism Was Meant To Help Them. how it was Sexism that needed to be dismantled to address the things that these very ridiculous men were angry at feminism about.

and now it's just like.

not only have people not learned this lesson, it's becoming increasingly Extinct as a concept even within feminist and activist spaces.

I Do find "male loneliness epidemic" silly as a term. it's particularly strange to me that there have been several articles ran about it.

But Ultimately This Would Not Be Necessary If The Climate Was Different.

like. the term is silly, I'm sure the articles are silly. but it is just Objectively True that men are statistically more likely to kill themselves. the exact number fluctuates depending on the study and the years they were conducted, but this has been Consistent for literally decades.

and it just ! feels abjectly cruel to watch people act like acknowledging something Like This is stupid. to watch people lump in men together As A Class and more or less victim blame them.

why should We care about Men when it's Men who are sexist? if Men care so much about being Lonely then then why [screenshot of 4channer]

a conversation on sexism creating a system where men are emotionally isolated, are discouraged from vulnerability, from relying on the people around them emotionally, are discouraged from affection, Is Good Actually.

like ! I really do wish that people didn't take a nose dive into gender essentialism and decide that men and women are just categorically and fundamentally different from each other. that if one suffers then the other must only be the one that inflicts suffering. that to recognize the pain of one is to deny the pain of the other. when that is Literally Not How It Works.

it's not about why Women should care about Men. it's about recognizing a facet of sexism that is negatively impacting PEOPLE and discussing it in the hopes of starting a long term conversation about it. to potentially encourage change and reach the people that need to hear it.

because All People are victims of sexism, All People can enforce sexism, and All People benefit from recognizing these facts and working together to undo the effects of sexism on a wide scale.

and I Dunno. I think it's really telling that some people actively choose Not to show basic human decency and compassion towards people if they can get out of it. if social convention in their circles say that X group of people don't Deserve It.

we live in a time where compassion fatigue is a real issue. where we have to process more atrocities on a daily basis than the human mind was ever meant to handle. but I still feel like human suffering should just like. Matter As A Baseline. it shouldn't be anyone's job to Convince You that it's worth caring about, you should just care about people.

[sunderwight]

Much as I love the idea of PIDW being rife with terrible porn tropes and interesting (if contrived) erotic writing conventions, all actual evidence in canon would seem to indicate that apart from some sex pollen and "uh oh, the protagonist has gone into a fugue state, whatever shall calm him down?" type stuff, it was fairly vanilla.

Like, that's part of both Shen Yuan and Airplane's frustration with it, I think. It's full of sex and it's not even sex either of them enjoy the concept of. Airplane was fully just trying to pander to an audience he felt he knew and could manipulate, but not one either he nor his ultra mega hate reader were actually part of.

Not that they understood that themselves at the time.

I mean I know fandom likes to make Airplane less closeted than Shen Yuan (for a lot of reasons), which I support, but I feel like in canon at least... he didn't cotton on to Luo Binghe's change in interests at first either. It wasn't until he was watching his protagonist obsess over resurrecting Shen Qingqiu at any cost that the light started to dawn. For Shang Qinghua, also, many more years have passed since he was back in their original world. He's had more time to reconcile himself to certain ideas.

What glimpses we get of the person he was before he died, was reborn, and lived a whole other life well into adulthood, would seem to indicate that he probably wasn't much better than Shen Yuan back when he was writing.

I mean he probably was still BETTER (the bar is on the floor), like I bet he could have a fantasy featuring Mobei Jun without having an existential crisis or pretending it didn't happen, but he would have probably been like "wow I guess I've been writing so much m/f porn that I can't even enjoy it anymore and my brain had to come up with something else, anyway Mobei would make a hot chick tho, I'm gonna write one of his cousins as Binghe's next wife" and gotten on with things.

Basically I guess what I'm driving at is that it would be funny if SQQ and SQH figured they had a solid handle on the kinds of sex pollen-y porn tropes to expect from the world (mostly just the occasional fuck-or-die that missionary can cure), only for the rug to get ripped out from under them because the system incorporated a bunch of stuff from Airplane's subconscious to fill out the gaps. Not even his notes. His daydreams and fantasies.

SQQ: what the hell?! PIDW didn't even have werewolves or tentacle porn monsters!

SQH, suddenly reminded of some very specific fap sessions: right?! this is definitely weird and in no way my fault! it must be because of the genre switch!

SQQ: *suspicious*

SQH: which is your fault! you made the protagonist gay! in fact it's probably your fault that I'm gay too now!

SQQ: bullshit. what did you do. was this in a draft?!

SQH: *sweating* I can say with absolute confidence that it was not! I never wrote anything like this!

SQQ: *having a crisis now because maybe he DID accidentally cause the monsterfucker stuff and he desperately doesn't want anyone to realize that he's actually into it*

SQH: *continuing to sweat because the world is consistently manifesting content from his personal spank bank and if cucumber ever figures that out he's a dead man*

[kp-alice]

Romantic greed (the best kind). | sub!Yeosang smut

Word count: 1 191

Warnings: pegging, sub!yeosang x condescending!dom!reader (they're both into it, it's okay), the slightest bit of what could be considered a corruption kink (nothing creepy, though, obv), begging, slightly fluffy during some parts.

A/N: So, uh... this fic was not planned at all, lol. I'm currently working on a few longer fics which aren't anywhere near finished, but today I had the displeasure of listening to two insanely racist, homophobic and just generally ignorant people talking loudly on the train for two hours straight, and somehow my annoyance turned into this. Don't ask me how, the frustration just made me want to fuck a man, okay,?? Yeah, that's pretty much it. Hope you enjoy!!

A/N 2: Btw, this is part of a small event I did on both this blog and my other, more sfw one, @seohwang! Go check it out if you're interested in some Jongho fluff ♥

The bed rocked back and forth with your powerful thrusts, the bed frame grazing against the wall every now and then. Accompanying the squeaking of the cheap wood were Yeosang's breathy moans, sounding like absolute heaven to your ears. He was clutching the pillow in front of him as tightly as he could, occasionally burying his face into it to muffle any wanton whimpers. His back was arched just the way you liked it, showcasing his beautiful broad back with muscle rippling all over. You would have taken a picture if you could, the scene was so pretty. Oh well. For now, all you could do was burn the image in front of you into your memory and grip his hips even tighter.

Yeosang keened as you leaned over his back to whisper into his ear, the change in angle hitting all the right spots in him.

"Roll over for me, handsome."

He bit his lip at your words, feeling the blush already tinting his cheeks get even deeper. He'd never admit it, but he loved it when you treated him like eye candy. Just a little boy toy for you to indulge in. Not that you needed him to admit anything, his reactions to the pet names you'd throw his way were more than enough.

Feeling you pull out of him, Yeosang shuddered, forcing his limbs to cooperate. With weak arms and legs, he flipped over, instinctively spreading his legs for you to slot your body between them. And when you did so, he couldn't help but let out a calm, content sigh. The sight of you like this, leaned over his sluggish yet excited body with your equally as tired but aroused one, buzzing with love and eagerness to make the both of you feel as good as possible, was nothing short of breath-taking. He didn't care about what society deemed the right, conventional way of lovemaking. Because in this moment, and even afterwards as he'd likely be recalling this over and over in his head, everything just felt so right. He was yours and you were his, inside and out.

His hazy thoughts of adoration were halted, however, as he felt something prod at him again. His excitement quickly turned to confusion, though, as he realized it wasn't your strap this time. Though initially similar in shape, he noticed it was much thinner yet warmer. Looking down, he caught a glimpse of your two fingers just as they began slipping inside of him.

Yeosang let out a teary, malcontent whine, feeling the slowly building orgasm in him stagnate. "Wait, no! I want- I need your cock in me, please!" he begged, grinding down on your hand to chase after the dwindling pleasure. "I was getting so close, please please please, I need more than this!"

Your core ached hearing him beg, and his thrusts against your palm certainly weren't helping. Despite his hole already being prepped and fucked loose, you could still feel every clench of him around your fingers, only adding to your unending arousal. Leaning over him even more, you looked down at him in faux remorse, contrasting the way your hand started pushing even harder into him. "But I want to feel you some more, hun," you explained with a fake, patronizing pout, "the strap is fun and all, but I can't feel you squeezing me with it nearly as much as I can like this. I need to know I'm making my boy feel good, right?"

Yeosang whimpered at your explanation, knowing you weren't going to budge until he'd give in to your game. With one hand clutching the pillow under his head again, he brought the other down to his twitching, neglected cock. He tentatively wrapped his fingers around it, looking up to gauge your reaction. When you didn't say anything, he slowly began stroking himself, huffing a strained breath from finally getting at least a fraction of the pleasure he so craved.

But even then, his hand and your fingers curling inside of him just weren't enough.

"Y/N, please," he began again, suppressing all shame churning his stomach as he conceded at last. "Please, I really- fuck! I need it! Please fuck me again, I promise you can use your fingers on me later but I-" a suppressed cry slipped past his lips and his hips bucked up as you hit his prostate dead-on, "I really need to cum right now."

The moment he saw your smirk, he knew he was done for.

"Aww, you need to cum?" You asked condescendingly, to which he nodded abashedly. "And my fingers just aren't doing it anymore, are they? You need something more, huh," you adjusted your hand, fingers reaching just a little deeper now, "something bigger," scissoring the two digits, you felt Yeosang shiver again, "my cock."

Closing his eyes and clenching his jaw, he nodded vehemently, already getting excited again just at the thought of it. You chuckled at his response, unable to hide your genuine, giddy smile. Luckily, Yeosang couldn't see your facade breaking, too busy willing the blazing hot blush off his face and chest.

"I've really spoiled you, haven't I?" You asked rhetorically, curling your fingers inside of him a few more times before finally sliding out. "You used to get all sensitive and shy whenever you'd ask me to finger you, and look at you now."

Yeosang let out a small sniffle at your words, which quickly turned to a gasp as he finally felt the blunt tip of your strap press up against his clenching hole again.

"Now you're begging me to fuck you with my bigger strap because not even the other one can satisfy you anymore."

Yeosang whimpered as you finally slid back home, hands flying up and around your neck to hold on for dear life as you quickly returned to your original, rough pace.

Noticing he was too distracted by you inside of him to keep stroking himself, you decided to help him out with your free hand, the other holding tightly onto his hip.

Yeosang cried out weakly at the added stimulation, brain starting to fog over from the onslaught of pleasure. His nails dug into your back as you jostled him up on the bed with your thrusts, leaving pretty marks he knew you both would be marveling at in the mirror later.

"...but guess what, Sangie," you suddenly spoke up again, bringing your boyfriend out of his thoughts just as his mind was starting to get a little too hazy.

Taking a few shallow breaths, he dared his voice to answer, "w-what?"

Yeosang squealed the moment you fully leaned over him, resting your chest against his as you drove your strap right into his g-spot. His eyes squeezed shut at the electrifying feeling and he buried his face into your neck to breathe you in while his legs wrapped around your torso. His hands were still clutching onto you tightly, the tremble in them worsening the closer he got to his long-awaited orgasm of the night.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Thank you so much for reading! And remember, feedback is always appreciated!! <3

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hi <3 I'm here with my request for TGC/actress!reader! No pressure if you don't like this or feel that you have to write it but what about if the shows out and people are going feral over their insane chemistry on screen and in interviews. But it gets worse when a pic of them kissing in costume on set is leaked and people are torn over if its a deleted scene or not (you can decide haha). And TGC and reader being fluffy and hounded to answer? Tysm if you decide to write this, no worries if not :)

Deleted Scene

Tom Glynn-Carney x Actress!Reader

Summary: "No, but truly, I am disappointed they didn't keep it," Tom mutters rather seriously, "I totally agree that our characters kissing is 100% vital character development."

Word Count: >600

Warnings: fem!reader, interview shenanigans, whipped!both of them, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: T_T ive been having a hard time finishing my reqs so i do hope yall like em. i think its best for everyone that i keep em short cos i will lose my mind 🤪 i dont wanna give up on them so i hope you enjoy nonnie <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @sloanexx @antisociablewallflower

Tom is sat on a chair on stage as he looks out to the crowd of eager fans, fans eager for answers about a particular clip that has been blazing about online. He breaks into a laugh when he hears the question regarding his lovely costar. He rubs the sides of face and chuckles into the mic, "next question please."

The crowd laughs.

Tom rubs his face and looks away as he clutches his torso. He releases a sigh then turns back to the guy who asked the question, "see... maybe I could answer that question easier if the person that question is about was here."

The crowd cheers.

Tom laughs, pulling his mic away, "I dunno, it's- it's quite awkward to... talk about your coworkers in certain ways, cause, you know, you don't want to put words in their mouth but--" he takes a moment before responding, "I would like to think," he places a hand on his chest, "that as much I as I enjoyed that kiss-"

Intense screaming.

"-she also did," he grits his teeth as he makes an apprehensive look. He breaks into a chuckle at how loud the shouts become.

Someone in the crowd screams out your ship name with Aegon.

"That being said, I do think it's a shame our kissing scene was cut out of the show-"

MEGA intense screaming.

Tom pulls his mic away and laughs through it. His jaw drops at the scream of a particularly enthusiastic fan. He points to that fan's general direction and chuckles as he says, "you get it."

"Can I just say," the fan who had asked Tom about the kissing scene in the first place speaks up. Tom looks at him as he explains that you were here at this convention two days ago and he got to ask you the same questions and-- "she said that she thought it was an integral piece of character development--"

Tom makes a face and nods.

"--and that because they cut it out, you should definitely make up for it with more kissing scenes."

The crowd loses their mind as Tom throws his head back then laughs into his hands. His face begins to turn a bright shade of red as he grins from ear to ear and his shoulders shake.

The fan holding the mic looks out to the crowd, "you can quote me on that, I'm sure there are clips online as evidence."

Tom wipes his face as he bites his lower lip.

He turns back to Tom, "do you have a response for her and everyone that ships your characters together?"

Tom blows a raspberry as he brings the mic to his mouth. With his cheeks still pink and his fingers ripping at his collar, he responds, "I'd love to kiss her."

Total and complete chaos amongst the people.

"FOR PLOT REASONS!" Tom calls out with an open mouthed smile. He shakes a hand out to the crowd as they bust their lungs with the intensity of their shouts.

He makes a cheeky expression, muttering lowly, "or maybe not--" he pulls his head back as he shakes it.

"No, but truly, I am disappointed they didn't keep it," Tom mutters rather seriously, "I totally agree that our characters kissing is 100% vital character development."