#i’m VERY OPEN to hearing interpretations of the women and i understand some of these are purely for funsies and hcs and that’s all fine!

[junosmindpalace]

i find discourse around the rdr women so...fascinating and infuriating at the same time. because a lot of the time it doesn't seem like rdr fans want to apply the same level of complex analysis to the women like they do for the men, but when they do, it still doesnt seem all that well-intentioned or that it does right by their characters.

this is a very long analysis/spam/defense so be warned :,)

even though the majority of sadie's character revolves around the fact she not only lost her home and her husband and was thrust into a new life of crime, but was actively struggling with robberies BEFORE the events of the game, people instead choose to focus on whether or not she had feelings for arthur or whether he actions in the game were actually impactful. she helped saved abigail and john when no else would, she fought alongside the men against the army, she helped john set up a stable life, she helped rob the payroll train, helped ensure colm’s death, she fought alongside arthur TIME AGAIN and took over in a leadership role when half the gang was absent in the guarma chapter. to say that she did nothing more except “be badass” undermines all of these contributions to the story that she was either at the forefront of or helped bring to fruition.

in my opinion, abigail is the EASIEST character to defend out of any of the women, and yet somehow she receives the most backlash from dudebros. I lose ten braincells every time i have to read a theory post over whether or not she slept with other camp members besides john, whether or not she was a rat, and about how much shes a nag. the woman has not known a moment's rest in her entire life. by the age of eight she was working in a cathouse. she was a child prior to then scrapping whatever money she could earn at her young age in saloons and dive bars as a woman and child just to survive as a orphan. jack's birth was clearly not planned, and she has voiced multiple times her grievances at the circumstances of his upbringing. everything she does is for a better life for her son: a life she never had. her constant nagging to get john to man up and be a father is for her son's benefit, not her own. she even says so herself when she tells him that she doesn't mind if a relationship between them doesn't work out, but to at least try being there for jack. she can't work a job because she is a mother living a life of crime and danger; she can't afford to leave the camp and her son unsupervised. she still does her share around camp. why would anyone blame her for not wanting to return to a life that has made her miserable, especially now that she has a child who she wants to model a good life for? many people seem to somehow also forget that she herself was a child when she gave birth to jack; only 17-18. she is 22 in the game in a bad situation with the father of her child and financially. she is doing her best to raise her son when she is not fully equipped to do so. how can anyone even blame her for being skeptical of john when hes affectionate in the epilogue when for so long hes been distant? she does not even ask much of john--just to be there for him sometimes, and to live honestly. she is also incredibly kindhearted. comforting other women in the camp, offering a listening ear, taking care of john when hes injured. she puts in her share of effort when it comes to finding a job in the epilogue and maintaining beechers hope.

molly is a young woman who is presumably incredibly far from her home where her family is, and trying to navigate a way of life completely unfamiliar to her. her stuck up nature comes not only from the way she was raised, but also dutch's uplifting affection and presumed lovebombing in the early stages of their relationship. shes even been suggested to be somewhat sociable until dutch and her became somewhat of an official item, in which she grew somewhat of a bigger ego with a mentality that she was his right hand. she deeply depended on dutch for her stability in every way, and its evident in her eventual spiral. she hated being seen as weak and pitiful as somewhat of an outsider among outsiders. she seemed to be close to no one besides dutch, who repeatedly cut her off when she attempted to talk to him about her growing feelings of anxiety, paranoia and sadness. the loss of the one thing that had built her up, coupled with immense tragedy she just wasnt used to, and desperate for a semblance of respect and dignity that she had presumably been all too accustomed to, of course she was going to come off brash and confront dutch about his distant, high and mighty attitude. it's why by the end, she doesnt care if she is killed: there is nothing left for her. karen's comment about her pretending to rat them out for the sake of attention is also interesting in terms of their relationship and parallels, which i dont see ANYONE talk about.

karen very clearly struggles with...a lot. she has even said so herself when talking with molly. she struggles to accept help, evident in pieces of dialogue where she brushes off concerned gang members about her drinking (mary-beth, arthur, javier), and when she seems somewhat ashamed and embarrassed having to have been rescued by arthur in the valentine mission (SAYING EXPLICITLY "i dont much like being saved"). she struggles with believing people have good intentions/feelings toward her, illustrated in the way she's constantly rejecting sean, yet seemingly disappeared further down the bottle after his death, and her conversation with mary beth and tilly about the world having no equal and fair place for women. her negative experiences in the world as a woman could also influence her view of the world, perhaps being why she finds herself somewhat hostile toward feminist mindsets and why she, for a while, enjoyed the outlaw lifestyle: it was her little slice of freedom. her hatred for the rich can also be because she has experiences as a poor woman, perhaps some direct experiences in which rich people have negatively impacted her life. though molly and karen don't get along through most of the game, karen actually tries to step in and help her near the end, and its this action + defending her after her death that shows she was sympathetic toward her situation and on some level able to relate to it, both craving some kind of love beyond superficial things.

@/cryptidcr3ature said it very well in a post i reblogged recently: mary is essentially "her brother's keeper and her father's caretaker". she herself lives somewhere middle class with traditional notions of the time impacting her views on arthur's lifestyle and anything below those middle class standards being deemed as socially unacceptable (which is evident from the very first letter mary sends to arthur, in which she seems confused on what a polite term would be to refer to prostitutes, who were obviously thought very lowly of in the time). i also don't think its fair to criticise her condemnation of arthur's lifestyle when pretty much all audiences, contemporary and not, including members of the gang, acknowledge that it isnt anything pretty. killing is not fun. running from the law is not fun. mary was not only influenced by her father's views of arthur (a person that, despite being horrible, she still deeply loves), but looking after her own family, herself, and arthur's wellbeing when she ended their relationship + suggested they run away. she had given him an opportunity at compromise. perhaps the first time, scared and unfamiliar with his lifestyle, she had offered arthur an ultimatum: her or his outlaw life, but later was willing to also leave behind her brother and father, two figures that tie her down and make her life more miserable than need be despite loving them very much, in order to settle somewhere with arthur and start over. her asking for arthur's help comes from a place of desperation and excuse to allow herself some semblance of stability when she hadn't had it; at least not since her mother and husband passed. if arthur refuses to help her, she is incredibly understanding and sympathetic. she does not lash out. if arthur does help, she is immensely grateful, and even tries to bond with him despite their years apart.

this post isnt to excuse some of their more negative behaviours and aspects of their characters'-- but im saying that they deserve to be fairly treated and analyzed just like any of the rdr men. many of them are young. many of them have unique challenges as women. that isn’t to say the men have it easier, but their struggles and less prettier aspects of their characters are always met with more sympathy than the women. why do arthur and john get passes as reformed absent fathers and criminals? why does sean receive sympathy when karen rejects his pushy advances? why does hosea get a pass at being better than dutch when he still groomed younger members of the gang for a life of crime alongside dutch? why does dutch get a pass by having his downfall be justified by tough circumstances? lets just be fair

[sadhours]

Wicked Sensation

part six // billy hargrove x f!reader

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen | part sixteen | part seventeen

word count: 5.1k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (f recieving), slapping, dirty talk, billy being agressive, steve being too good of a guy, angst, underage drinking

“You can take me,” you tell Steve before he has a chance to say hello.

You’d lied awake for hours after Billy had left last night, thinking about how while at first the idea of going to the dance with Steve as a game to Billy you’ve come to realize that’s exactly what it was, a game to Billy. It hurt that he would use the opportunity to have yet another leg up on Steve in this dumb feud they had going on. And it wasn’t even like Steve would know, it was like Billy wanted to hurt him and play mind games Steve wouldn’t even realize Billy was behind. You thought about calling off the whole plan but decided you deserved to actually have some fun and Steve was very much that. Conversations between you two were as easy as they come. Steve made you laugh and you liked the contrast between his easy going attitude and Billy’s intensity.

“Really?” Steve chirped, “Awesome, so uh, cool, cool, yeah.”

“I’ll pick a red dress,” you interpret his stuttering, hand on his chest because you see Billy out of the corner of your eye and maybe you can play the game to your advantage. “Pick me up at 5 for dinner.”

You wave goodbye, eyes darting back to see Billy with amused wide eyes which he has to mask quickly when Tommy walks up to him. You wonder who Billy’s going to go to the dance with, the idea making your stomach twist in jealousy. Which only worsens when you get to class and hear other girls talking about it. Since he hadn’t been making moved on anyone and was seemingly single they figured it was open season.

“You think he’s going to ask someone? Would it be totally weird to ask him?” you overhear Peggy’s voice and roll your eyes. Of course she’s still pining over him. Then you fall down a rabbit hole of thinking about Billy having sex with these girls. Did he touch them the way he touched you? The sensations were extremely hard to forget, not that you really tried to. Was what you two shared special and saved just for you or did he make all these other women crumble under his touch as well? You’re thinking about it for the rest of the school day, flashes of Billy sweating over top the list of women you know he’s been with.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks on the ride home. Max has headphones on so you’re tempted to admit the reason you haven’t said a single word to him but it just doesn’t feel like the right moment. The two of you never talked about feelings when the sun was still out.

“Just a weird day,” you explain which isn’t exactly a lie.

“Is it about winter formal? Listen, I’d like to take you but…” He starts.

You interrupt, “It’ll ruin what we have.” You’ve heard him say it a couple times. You’ve told him you understand every time. “That’s not what I’m upset about.”

Billy squeezes your thigh and you picture him doing it to every bitch that’s been in his car so you jerk away. “I’m fine,” you insist and look out the window.

He backs off with a sigh, turning the dial up on his stereo to drown out the bad mood. You don’t say bye when he parks in front of his house, storming in your house and slamming the door behind you. Since the house is empty you scream out, closing your eyes tight when you do so and not giving a shit if Billy could hear it. However, you don’t expect to see your dad and little brother running into the living room.

“Oh,” your cheeks flush, “I thought I was alone.”

Your dad looks even more worried than before, “You okay?”

“I got asked to Winter Formal,” you tell him, tossing your backpack on the ground. “What are you two doing home?”

“Your brother is ‘sick’,” your dad says with air quotes, “Had to leave work early to get him. The neighbor boy ask you?”

“No, Billy didn’t ask me. One of the most popular boys asked me,” you vent to him.

He takes the opportunity, you usually never complained about your love life to him. He grabs a beer from the fridge and offers it to you, “Why didn’t Billy ask you if he’s been sneaking into your room for months?”

“His dad wouldn’t like me,” you admit, opening the beer and guzzling it down. You half expect your dad to scold you but he doesn’t.

“Ya know, I had to work on his dads car the other week… he’s a real dick,” your dad levels with you.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Did you say yes?” he asks, grabbing a beer for himself.

“I… Billy told me to and I do want to go so yes, I said yes. But I don’t want to hurt this guy because I like him but… I like him like I like Eddie,” you spew out.

Your dad sighs, joining you at the kitchen table. “It’s not good to lead people on. I think you oughta tell this fella you just want to be friends.”

You think about your light flirting with Steve earlier that day. It felt good to flirt with him but it’s not like you wanted to break things off with Billy to pursue Steve. “I know,” you sigh, “I just wish things could be different with Billy.”

“Compromise is important. I learned that with your mom. I wished things were different with her but when I look back, I wished I was more patient and compassionate,” your dad reveals and it breaks your heart a bit. You missed your mom but you thought your dad was a good guy and if she couldn’t even bother to check in every once in a while then maybe she was the bad actor.

You have no idea how to talk to your dad about your mom leaving so you just nod, “You’re right…” you sigh and stand up, “I’m gonna go out front for a bit.”

Your dad grins with a nod, “Do what feels right, pumpkin.”

When you’re outside you see Billy taking out the trash, watching as you light your smoke and you raise your beer to him. He shakes his head but he’s smiling before he blows you a kiss. You feel your heart skip a bit, swooning for him easily before he’s back inside. You couldn’t tell your dad about the intimate reasons you were upset. You didn’t bother Eddie with sexual details or problems so that left the problem to talk to it about. Which you weren’t looking forward to but for your sanity you had to ask him.

-

You’re waiting for Billy to call since you’d kind of given him the cold shoulder you expected him to give you space. You glance to your alarm clock and see it’s nearing midnight. If he was gonna call it would have been by now. You sigh and get up, standing in your mirror while you undress. You watch yourself and wonder if anything was different between you and Peggy, underneath it all. Peggy probably wears nighties, you think and without much of a second thought, you’re digging in your closet for the one you own, a Christmas present from your grandma. You hold the hanger in front of you, a simple white slip with a delicate lace along the décolletage. She’d probably wear something like this, you think as you pull it over your naked body.

Knock, knock. Your head snaps towards the window to see Billy looking back at you with a surprised grin on his face. You walk over, unlocking the window before sliding it open.

“I’ve never seen that before,” he says, his mouth hanging open when he’s finished.

“You’re gonna drool,” you shut is jaw with a gentle hand before helping him inside.

Billy shuts the blinds behind him and wraps his arms around your waist, “You expecting me?”

“Oh, god, you would like this,” you roll your eyes and pull away.

Billy grabs your wrist and tilts his head, quizzically, “Am I not supposed to?”

“No!” You exclaim, “It’s not me! You’re not supposed to like it!”

His smile falters and his eyebrows knit together in confusion, “What’s going on?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you suddenly feel exposed and ashamed. Billy’s fingers dance under your elbow and arms. He steps closer, eyes expectant while he waits for you to answer. You’re afraid you’ll start to cry if you open your mouth, looking up at him fearful.

“Baby…” he mutters, “Talk to me.”

His voice is quiet but his eyes on you make the room seem smaller and smaller with each second.

“Am… am I different?”

“Incredibly,” he whispers, “Weirdest person I’ve met.” The smirk on his face isn’t soothing in any way.

“No… like,” you let out a shaky breath. “Do you touch other girls like you touch me?”

Confusion and anger cover his expressions, “What? I haven’t touch-“

“When you did, before me, after we did, I mean have you fucked them like me or is it different?” you interrupt him, finally relieved to get this off your chest.

Billy pauses, unsure of how to answer that question or what exactly it implied. He couldn’t help if he knew how to make women come undone for him. “What are you talking about?”

“Peggy wants to ask you to the dance. You fucked her forever ago and she’s still thinking about you. I can’t fathom the thought of you… I don’t know, Billy.”

“Hey, hey,” he sits you down the bed and gets on his knees between your legs, “it is so different for you and I.”

“You made them feel how you make me feel,” you mutter out, the tears spilling out finally.

“But I’m here with you, I stopped sleeping with other girls, babe. For you. You make me feel better than they ever could,” he says and you can’t believe the words coming from him or how easy it is for him to comfort you. “I don’t care if they still want me, you shouldn’t either. They can’t have me, but you do.”

“But Billy… they still talk about you,” you blubber, palms smearing your tears away as they coat your flushed cheeks.

He sighs then, sitting on his heels. He’s quiet for a second and then he’s taking his dagger earring off and putting it on your ear. You hadn’t even realized he took it back from you. “Have this. Wear it everyday. I know it’s not me screaming from the rooftops that we’re together but it’s what I can do for now,” he’s saying, eyes trained on hours.

The gesture is sweet and calms you down slightly. He laces his fingers in yours and squeezes, “You’re different in the best way. I promise you, it’s different. I actually like you.”

You smile, “You mean it?”

“Lemme show you,” Billy’s bunching your night gown up and his mouth is between your legs. You watch him, licking between your folds and the sensation sends shivers up your spine. Say what they will, they didn’t have Billy like you did.

His fingers snake up your nightgown and graze against your nipple, tongue focused at your opening, sliding into you. Falling onto your back, your fingers grip his curls and pull him closer.

“Billy… feels so good…” you praise, lifting your feet to the edge of the mattress.

“Tastes even better,” he pulls away to mumble and the compliment floors you, pushing his face back.

His tongue broadly licks up your slit, shaking his head to aid when the tip of his tongue is pressed at your clit. Every concern slipping away from his deliberate actions. He’s entering you with two fingers and you feel the pressure building efficiently, tearing you apart expertly.

“I’m.. I’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, thighs clenching around his face and your back arched.

Billy quickens his pace, nodding his head up and down while his fingers twist and curl inside you. When you start to pant, he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks which pushes you over the edge. “Billy!” you gasp, pulling at his hair and thrashing against his face.

“You’re mine,” he says when your faces meet again, tearing the nightie off of you.

“Mine..” you mumble out lazily, your body still on cloud nine.

“Yours,” Billy’s mouthing against your ear, peeling his shirt from his torso. You help him with his shoes and pants even though you’re suddenly exhausted. You want him to have you.

“Say it again,” you whimper, feeling his tip press against your entrance.

“I’m yours,” he says through gritted teeth as he inches inside of you.

“All mine,” you say, drunk on the passion as you wrap your legs around his waist and tug him closer.

Billy bites your bottom lip then, pushing the rest of the way and you feel him fill you up. You moan into his mouth when his fingers curl around your hip, everything falling apart around the two of you. He falters a bit, chuckling softly when he stills.

“Jesus,” he exhales, “I’m already close… give me a minute.”

It’s the highest compliment he could’ve paid you and you giggle back, “Thank you.”

“Oh, shut up,” he seethes but he’s smiling.

“You last long with them?” you tease, fingers grazing his chest and then curling around the necklace he’s always wearing. You think it’s the Virgin Mary, definitely something catholic.

Billy gently flicks your nose, looking pointedly at you, “This doesn’t typically happen, no.”

You shudder underneath him, tightening your legs around his waist. The stimulation takes his breath from his lungs and he’s pushing you down by your chest, “Give me a minute for fucks sake.”

“What if I want you to cum?” you challenge, rolling your hips against him.

“Then I will,” he keeps his palm pressed hard on your sternum. He starts moving again, pounding hard into you. Hard enough that it startles you and actually kind of hurt. You gasp and he grabs your chin roughly, tilting your head back but his eyes fierce. “But you’re gonna look at me while I do it. You look away and I won’t be happy.”

You’re curious so you tear your eyes away from his face, down to his chest. Billy’s quick to slap you, grabbing onto your jaw again and scolding you, “I fucking mean it.”

“Yes, Sir…” you pant, the carnal assault bringing a flood of arousal from you, only making the sound of his pumping into your wetness louder.

“Good girl,” he spits and it doesn’t sound like praise but like he expects this from you.

“You like when I’m a good girl?” you say through pouted lips.

Billy grits his teeth, thumb digging into your cheek. “Good girls don’t ask dumb questions,” he fumes, his hips relentless against you.

“I’m only bad for you,” you counter, your confidence in speaking is a show of how close you are to a second orgasm.

“I want you to be good right now,” he pants, holding his gaze into your eyes. You wonder if your banter is helping postpone or hastening his own climax.

“Make me be good,” you challenge and Billy’s pulling out to flip you over onto your stomach, grabbing your wrists in his hands and pinning them behind against the small of your back as he penetrates you hard.

“You little slut,” he slanders, driving his hips back and forth at a harsh pace. He’s successful shutting you up, the ferocious onslaught pushing the air from your lungs. He spanks your ass as he unloads inside of you, your own orgasm erupting in sync with him.

“Billy!” you cry out, shaking beneath him.

You both come down, breathing like you’d been holding it in for hours.

“I assure you, it was never anything like that,” he pants, eyes tightly closed.

-

Dress shopping was not fun. You’d dragged Eddie along for moral support but he wasn’t help at all, laughing at most ensembles you’d tried on. “You look like a cake topper.”

“That’s it,” you say, staring back at a foreign reflection. “I’m not going.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on.”

Like some saving grace, you see Billy walking into the store. You lift an eyebrow in surprise, asking what he’s doing there. Then Max walks in behind him, looking out of place just like you.

“I need a dress,” she mutters and you smile, happy that someone had asked her to the Snowball Dance.

“It’s slim Pickens,” you inform her.

“Why not this?” Billy holds up a sleek, red gown. There’s no frills to it at all and you wonder why you couldn’t find it.

“Huh, more my style than Max’s,” you counter and Billy guffaws.

“Gee, I wonder why,” he shoves the hanger in your hand.

You slip away to try the dress on and realize just what a saving grace Billy was. It was like he knew your body better than you did. The god damn thing fit you like a glove, even if it had an absurd amount of cleavage spilling out. You’d never felt sexier, staring back at the mirror. You decide to make Billy wait, changing out of the dress but holding it to your chest.

“Please tell me it’s a winner?” Eddie begs, a hopeful glint in his eye. You’d promised to visit the comic store after this.

“Billy’s omnipresent or something,” you mutter, not wanting to admit he’d picked the perfect dress for you within seconds of arriving.

Billy smirks, “Ya gonna make me wait to see it, huh?”

“Max! Let me help you find something,” you usher the redhead off, not wanting to give Billy the satisfaction.

When you glance back to see him and Eddie getting along, your heart skips a beat thinking of what could be if only he didn’t have to keep you hidden. You shove it down, watching at what Max pulls from the racks. She doesn’t seem to like anything so you counter, “I went to the Snowball dance both years in junior high. You don’t really have to wear a dress.”

“My mom wants me to pick a dress out,” she counters and you nod.

“Let’s try to find something simple, then. I’m not much of a dress girl either, but our dance has a strict dress code,” you say. After a moment of thumbing through the racks, you pull one out, just a simple green dress. “How about this?”

Max looks at it intrigued, fingertips ghosting the velvet. “I guess this could work,” she decides, grabbing it from you and heading towards Billy. She hands it to him and says, “Here.”

Billy looks over to you appreciatively, “Well that was painless.” But he snakes to snatch the dress in your hand, taking it to the counter. You protest but it’s fruitless. Billy’s paying for your dress and handing the bag to you. “I’ll see you around.”

Eddie scoffs as Billy and Max walk out of the boutique, “That guy is something else.”

“I’ll say,” you sigh, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pulling him towards the comic store.

-

With knuckles against your door, Steve feels anxious. You were hard to understand, pushing and pulling away from him. He couldn’t read you at all and that was part of what kept him interested. As he’s waiting outside, he catches Billy and his little step sister walking to his Camaro.

“King Steve,” he hears behind him, having turned away. Billy’s standing there, wearing a suit, hair meticulously styled and a simple stud in his ear.

“Can I help you?” Steve challenges, his hair is always perfectly sculpted, he spent an hour on it.

“No,” Billy shrugs, but before he can continue your dad opens the door.

“Hi, Dale,” Billy beams, confusing your dad, seeing two men standing in almost matching suits, the only difference in bow ties. Steve’s red to match your dress and Billy’s is a hot pink.

“Hello, Billy,” your dad greets, turning to your date and saying, “You must be Steve.”

“Billy! Let’s go!” Max calls out and Billy stifles his anger.

“Have a goodnight, Harrington,” he spits before walking back to his Camaro.

Steve extends his hand to your dad, “Nice to meet you.”

Your dad invites Steve inside, who then excuses himself in the bathroom before you walk out into the kitchen.

“Your boyfriend intimated your date,” your dad lets you know, looking amused.

“Oh, God,” you sigh, grimacing at the thought but thankfully you don’t have time to stew on it as Steve’s exiting the bathroom.

“You look amazing,” he says, out of breath as if he doesn’t see your dad standing next to you.

“So do you,” you tell him, smiling wide. Steve does look good, he usually looks pretty prim and proper but something about him in a tuxedo has you thinking about him in ways you never have.

“I’m right here,” your dad speaks up, chuckling as he does so.

Steve’s eyes widen, “Yeah! Oh, I’m sorry! It’s… sorry, I,” he grabs the corsage he’d left on the counter and presents it to you. You extend your wrist towards him with a flutter of your eyelashes, watching as he adorns the gorgeous rose.

“It’s pretty,” you note, a satisfied smile plastered on your face.

“Just like you,” Steve points out.

Your dad extends his hand to Steve, your date taking it in a firm handshake, “Take care of her.”

Steve nods, then moves towards the door. Your dad hugs you, whispering “Now that’s how a man should treat you.” before pulling away.

“Thank you,” you look into his eyes, you think he’s right but that Billy would… if he could.

The restaurant Steve takes you to is the nicest place you’ve been. It isn’t a diner at the edge of town. There���s many other kids from school here. You don’t see Billy and his date, thankfully. He never told you who he was going with but you weren’t sure if you’d hoped it was someone he hasn’t slept with or some poor sap he’d already fooled around with. You scold yourself for thinking about him in this moment. Right now was about you and your date. You were determined to have a good time. You order a glass of wine and Steve widens his eyes, perhaps impressed by your boldness. You supply your fake ID to the waiter and it’s accepted so he in turn offers Steve a glass. He accepts and you’re pleased to impress the man across from you.

“You’re something else,” Steve smiles, leaning across the table to take his hand in yours.

“I’ve heard that before,” you quip with a cocky smirk.

The food is good and the company even better. Steve is funny and charming, it would’ve been so easy for him to get in your pants if you weren’t spoken for. He’s handsome as hell too but equipped with a boyish charm that works so well. And God, you think, it would be easy to fall into something steady with him. Due to the three glasses of wine, you wonder what Steve’s like between the sheets. You imagine a slew of praises and what kind of noises he’d make with his dick in your mouth. Never in the past three years would you imagine you’d be here with the King of Hawkins High. The alcohol mixed with the the attention has you pressing Steve against his car in the parking lot, kissing him intensely and adoring the way it takes him by surprise.

“Wines the secret ingredient I needed, eh?” He mumbles when you pull away.

“You look good in a suit,” you shrug before trailing to the other side of his BMW. “Let’s go dance the night way, pretty boy.”

“No need to pull my arm,” he quips.

The high school gym looks like a sad car with a new paint job, the streamers doing little to distract you from the fact that you’re at Hawkin’s High. You immediately catch Billy’s eyes, he’s seeing you in the dress he’d bought for the first time. He’d seen it on the rack next to your mirror but he’d longed for the moment he got to see it draping to your curves. You hold Steve’s hand in yours, noticing as heads turn towards the two of you. You thought you looked so good in the dress no one was calling you a freak. But the looks were definitely because Steve brought a freak to Winter Formal and that freak looked hot.

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy mutters to Billy who is also staring at you. He’s about to mirror Tommy’s thirst but catches himself.

“Whatever,” Billy mutters, slinging an arm over Molly’s shoulder.

Cutting Crew’s “(I Just) Died In Your Arms” starts playing and you grab Steve’s hand, pulling him to the punch bowl. When you get your drink, you feel the alcohol burn your throat. Thank God it’s been spiked. This would be a long night without it.

Billy’s watching across the gym, a little taken aback but the jealousy he feels in the pit of his stomach. But it’s your fault, right? He told you to go with Steve but he didn’t tell you to enjoy it. He seethes, watching after you both down a glass of punch before strutting to the dance floor. He hates how romantic this song is, seeing you drape arms around Steve as you sway together. He’d give anything to hear what you two were whispering back and forth. He’d really love to go up and sock Steve right in the face, but that’d be to obvious. No, he’d have to play dirty. Molly’s blabbering in his ear and he regretted the entire game, seeing how carefree and fun you seemed around his arch nemesis. He grabs Molly’s clutch, digging through it for the flask he’d stashed inside, though the whiskey inside isn’t much help.

When Sweet Dreams bubbles out of the speakers, he’s dragging Molly to the dance floor making sure he’s in your eyesight. He turns her around, hands on her hips and he grinds against her bottom with his eyes trained on you. Steve’s blissfully unaware of the competition at hand, gasping in your ear when you mimic Billy and Molly. You swing your hand up to lace through the bottom of Steve’s mullet. You think about kissing Steve but it’s too early. You’d fuck with Billy later, this is what he wanted after all.

After a few songs, you excuse yourself from Steve, explaining you need a cigarette badly. You let him think it’s from arousal but truly, you need a breath of air. It’s also an invitation for Billy that he takes, stalking out after you.

“Having fun?” he sneers as he catches you lighting your smoke.

You guffaw, hearing as the song before bleeds into Don’t Dream It’s Over by Crowded House. “I’m at a school dance watching the man I love grind against some whore,” your voice is venomous.

“I’m having the time of my life too,” Billy’s heart skips when you inadvertently admit you love him but hey, time and place. “It’s not fun watching heart eyes and grabby hands.”

“You told me to go with him, motherfucker,” you seethe, but internally feigning over the jealousy he exudes.

Billy scoffs, taking a deep drag from his own smoke.

“And Molly?” you laugh, “I should’ve guessed. Oh, Billy is just so cute! He’s just so kissable. Fucking gag me with a spoon.”

Billy greets his teeth, “I have something else I’d rather gag you with.”

You laugh harshly, the alcohol really showing itself when you comeback with, “Oh please Billy! I want nothing else than for you to get off in my throat where no one can see! Our little secret.”

“Cut the sarcasm, bitch,” Billy spits, pushing you against the wall.

“The fuck is wrong with you? You have to get drunk to spend the night with Harrington?”

“Had to get drunk to deal with you tonight. Steve’s a breeze to be around,” you quip and Billy’s got his hand on your throat as a reaction.

“You like getting a rise out of me,” he reasons, frowning around the words, “You’re not a filthy slut but you sure like acting like one to get my attention.”

You look him dead in the eye, “Let go of me or I’ll scream.”

Billy gives a laugh full of discredit, pushing you further.

“Oh my god, what are you doing? Billy, stop! You’re hurting me!” You claim and when you open wide to scream his hand is forcing your mouth shut.

“I don’t like the game you’re playing,” he says, eyes wary.

You bite his hand and he pulls away.

“Tell me you love me,” you appeal, eyes trained on his. “Tell me you love me and fucking mean it, Billy.”

He closes his eyes and blows air out of his nose, like he’s dejected. “You’re such a bitch,” he mutters, eyes fluttering open again but you’re serious.

“Tell me,” you shrill, “Tell me or I’m done. I’ll go home with Ste-“

“I love you, okay!” he drops his hand from his hands from your shoulders.

You pull him close, feeling his breath against your lips, “Again.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Billy Hargrove,” you say breathlessly before pulling him into a bruising kiss.

You could feel he meant it, especially with the way he kisses you back. You leave in two days for Florida and you really couldn’t leave without the admission. You melt into him and the two of you share a beautiful moment but it’s cut short by a girl neither of you know, storming out in tears. You both retract, as if you weren’t just sharing the most important stage of your relationship.

“You should get back to Steve,” Billy says dejectedly.

“One more time,” you plead.

“I love you,” he indulges, a quick kiss.

“I love you too,” you mutter, pulling back to stumble back into the dance. Everything seems different. You don’t want to go back to Steve, you want to follow Billy to his Camaro and get a motel somewhere far.

Take my breath away you hear through the fogginess of the smoke machines, seeing Steve fiddling with his fingers at a table. This isn’t fair, you think as you collapse into the chair next to him. Steve saw Billy follow you and the flush on your face but he doesn’t tell you.

“You want me to take you home?” he asks and you nod.

“Please…”

[redmelawashere]

SNS 2022 Prompts week 4

Week 1 summaries are here! 

Week 2 summaries here :) Week 3 summaries reporting for duty.

Full fics can be read here on my AO3 😊

I finally completed them THE SECOND DAY OF THE SNS 2023 EXTRAVAGANZA. WHICH I WILL ALSO BE PARTICIPATING IN. Stay tuned on my AO3! Those new prompts will be uploaded as of tomorrow :)

22 - Traveling Together

In which there is a cold hotel room, Naruto starts to feel more like herself, and there is a shared moment of intimacy between her and Sasuke in the early morning somewhere in Northern Lightning Country.

(Pt. IV of the "Sun and Moon", "Early Mornings", and "Naruto Opening (Diver)" prompts and honestly, an excuse to write 3500+ words of women empowerment pwp.)

23 - Royalty AU

"I’m sorry, but not all of us are related to the King and have the pleasure of being an insolent, pompous, shithead in front of the entire continent without fear of retribution.”  She stomped past him, hoping that this would be the last she’d see of Uchiha Sasuke. Her mother tells her a week later that Sasuke has accepted the proposal.

She takes the letter, handwritten by the King himself, and rips it up into tiny square pieces

(A very loose HouseoftheDragon!AU, without the incest, and a dash of arranged marriage.)

24 - Angels and Demons

“Alright kid,” Naruto started midway through the day, rubbing her temples. “Why am I an oni?”

“Because you ensnared, Sasuke-kun! All he does is stare at you all day!”

“Ugh, haven’t you ever heard of like, women supporting women?”

(In which the Daimyo's relative is a massive royal pain in Naruto's ass.)

25 - You Bring Colours to this Bleak World

"Come with me." he commanded in a low and dangerous tone, his red eyes gleaming in the darkness of her room.

She stared at him with disbelief, not knowing whether this was yet another one of her hallucinatory dreams or some sick, twisted joke.

(The sister fic, and pt.II of “Soulmates” prompt.)

26 - First Love

He sighed heavily, pressing the heels of his palms into his forehead.

"Dobe—I didn't mean—fuck—what are we going to do with all of this? We are going to be eating onigiri for days."

(Sasuke is reminded of the fact that he was the one who fell in love first. Pt.II of the "Going on a date" prompt.)

27 - Side by Side

“You’re free to interpret it as you like.”

“Did it make you think of me?”

Sasuke froze, staring at her with piercing, obsidian orbs.

“Yes,” he admitted lowly. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

(In which Naruto starts to feel better and Sasuke, once again, has to shake the blonde out of her ugly insecurities. Pt. V of the "Sun and Moon", "Early Mornings", "Naruto Opening (Diver)", and "Travelling Together" prompts.)

28 - Greek Mythology

“Sasuke, I’m sorry—”

“—F-fuck you.”

He has to keep moving.

(A Hades!AU for the Greek Mythology prompt featuring Zagreus!Naruto and Maegara!Sasuke instead of the classic PersephonexHades adaptation. Another yaoi fic! )

29 - Touch him and I'll kill you!

“—What are you two talking about?” Ino interjected again, eyes darting between her two solemn friends. Sakura looked at Kiba who nodded. The pinkette then cupped her hands around her mouth, whispering loudly, “we think Naruto is pregnant.”

“Oh? Tell me everything.”

(The one where rumours are swirling around Naruto and Sasuke's expanding family. If only they knew the truth was more furry in nature.)

30 - Rockstar/Band/Music AU

“Wait, your training sessions are a secret?” Sakura hissed; eyes narrowed suspiciously as she grabbed another piece of barbeque ribs.

“Jinchuuriki things you normies wouldn’t understand,” she shot back. “Seriously. You think he tells me about his music career when we’re busy beating the shit out of each other or meditating with our Bijuu? Obviously not.”

(In which Naruto lied. She did know, and accidentally became a secret back-up singer for Bee and everyone loses their goddamn minds. Crack treated seriously.)

31 - Winter

“Do you care if I record something?”

“Yes. I don’t want my fucking face all over the internet and especially in your dumbass TikTok’s idiot—which, by the way, I’m still pissed about.”

She turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Stupid Tiktoks? Okay, I’m sorry for posting that one video of you without asking, but I guess it's kind of funny that you think they’re stupid, considering you’ve been spying on my profile for months.”

(AKA Naruto becomes TikTok famous in the ninja world and Sasuke has had just about enough of her going viral every other Tuesday. Crack treated seriously.)

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

hi i’m sorry to bother you but um. idk the posts you’ve been making are coming across pretty lesbiphobic given the context,,,? i don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.

Let's see, I believe my latest post was me sharing the full text of a novel translation that was getting misquoted in order to bully people disagreeing with a popular interpretation. Sharing facts rather than bully-fuel hearsay is the reason for the latest posts, nothing more nothing less.

The existence of women who like multiple genders (whether they're fictional or not) is a fact, our bi and pan sisters deserve rep and respect too~ Sushang's neat.

To be completely honest? Acting like a bi Sushang would be "worse" than being a lesbian in a game full of lesbians sounds like cryptoterf shit so I've been pretty suspicious of that rabble so far. That doesn't fly with me.

Regarding Kiana, I fully interpret her as a lesbian, however the word "lesbian" isn't used by her in the canon text of hi3. A rose by any other name would smell just a sweet, doesn't make her any less gay. She doesn't say "I'm a lesbian" but she says "I'm in love with Mei", y'all, the original post that sparked the controversy wasn't saying that Kiana wasn't a lesbian, it was saying that not everyone ships Kiamei and some folks prefer to see them as broken up or close friends instead, and then people got really intense on twitter. Seems like there was a weird misunderstanding about what what was being talked about.

In a vaccum though, I agree that's not a big deal! My DMs are open, and I'm not one to yell. If you have a legitimate grievance, I'll hear you out, but you can't just say words and not back them up. This is a very serious accusation you're leveling at me and I don't think I've done anything that warrants it. Did the above come off as me hating lesbians? Nah nah, no way, that's my own crew, though my girlfriend's bi so it annoys me when people shit on bi headcanons.

[uneconomy]

New Buzzword: Parasocial, when it still should be what are monopolies, people, third spaces and leveraging tech

yeah it’s me more about having some documents saying I was born in America and in two technospheres and it’s terrible. 

Sometimes I feel like I should be careful about what I write because like it took me awhile but I was born in 1986 and I have two sisters, one born 1985 and the other 1987.  And there’s that book called 1984 which I never read. 

And it’s weird because I’m not white and a lot of what I feel how technology is practiced in like a golden age if there is one is how white people do things.  It’s starts to be obvious when you look at pop singers.  Like why fandom (maybe we should call it the first iteration of computer colony) is what it is, it’s because of America.  

( I think technology (platforms and such) could have been a very bad thing when you start looking at authoritarian countries, ie China. Like you can’t say what you want to on the internet.And like why is it so difficult for them to have a cross over pop singer. K-pop just look like the Forever 21 abyss. And yeah on YouTube I am mean to East Asians. East Asians do you think you would be here if it wasn’t for democracy. ) When you start reading about pop culture in America, it’s romanticized to glorify that person but you know they are industralists who are ever more want to make more money.  I guess that’s why Elon Musk lives in Los Angeles not San Francisco and one of his ex-wife is an indie musician.  I’m an elder millennial so I definitely have more 20th century parasocial vibes.  Like I’m oh cool some white girl with blonde hair in like a l’oreal ad. Like if I thought I was beautiful I would compare myself to her and not think too much about it.  I would just go read a book or something. I do think very fondly of growing up close to NYC but in a suburb where there was a majority of black kids.  It’s kinda of beyond me to understand like what it is to make a public school with mostly black kids and black housing ownership in like really white surburbs.  But to me, every time I think about it it just seems more and more perfect.  It did have it’s issues like I couldn’t remember one black male teacher in the 6 years I went to school there.  But you know like when I walked around there were no police and like I was definitely more nervous kid but if you found a sport you could play in the open fields.  And like I was still shy but like being around black teenagers women in a non academic space later in life made like such a huge impact on me.  Like oh this how the conversational talk to each other and not what people try to impersonate on social media. Like I don’t I’ll ever really fully understand like why black female singers sing the way that they do cause it’s like way more complicated than just me interpreting it as hearing pretty things but like I distance myself from people who are like Beyoncé is everything and do everything thing for them.  Like I do enjoy when I see a YouTuber who looks like Rihanna, I’m like why isn’t youtube just Rihanna. (And like if we did make Rihanna computer colony, would it be so bad) Like yeah I’m an elder millennial where yeah it’s nice to see Rihanna at your fingertips but like her life and other people’s are so layered.  Like what really is A.I. and why is sold to us like that.  How is it that I can get $2 yarn from Turkey but like it’s like a mystery to find out how to grow your own cilantro. 

So I guess what I’m saying as platforms like TikTok and I guess Meta get more and more sophisticated like it’s not as like in 20th century parasocial, it’s way more complicated in the 21 century and like nobody is comprehensively educating people.  Like I would go watch after school MTV with Carson and think it was the world to me not knowing things like democracy, government funding, and the idea that there is multiculturalism really was the foundation to making a society and not how nowadays if like I don’t get my eyeliner right there’s like fifty thousand pretty girls on youtube to show you things. (Like why isn’t there more videos on like oh this is how business and government work to make a traffic light.)  It’s all lady this and lady that, we just going to start having things like lady water. Like what are the end game for those algorithms.  Figuring out mine might be a little bit difficult because for quite some time I did call myself Chinese Jamaican and now that I’m just a few towns over from my home town in like a beach town I’m like these people probably think I’m Mexican. And it sucks for me because they are people using bitcoin and like it’s affecting how people pay for things and like I can’t figure out my dumb bank account.  It’s so annoying. 

And now that I look at the title I did, it’s actually way behind me.  Like I’m trying to figure out health insurance, it’s so confusing.  Like somebody seriously needs to get into why we have Filipino nurse when like they like come from a country that is a dictatorship.  Like what. But like lets look into podcasts, the other day I was listening to Into It with Sam Sanders and he has a bunch of people on and one of them said they really like The Daily by The NY Times because of the host and I was like yeah I like Sam Sanders and I hope he gets everything but like knowing there are other media companies who also want to make bank, it just sounds like just a way to advertise news into it starts out with live lectures in nyc and then like what is it when it’s a lecture that in Central Park, where it’s like well it’s outside and it’s just a couple of mics. What kind of announcements can you really make in such a cosmopolitan park. Like is informing people the result or this idea you can endlessly keep people idolizing themselves as a person who thinks of as an informed person. Like what I trying to say is if media just  a medium like who is actually for.  And if it is like I feel like at least there’s dua lipa she like at least reads books.  I’m not a good example but like who’s actually measuring how long it takes to figure out societal problems. Like at those lectures in Central Park like who is actually collecting all that data while youre there. Guys what is Malcom Gladwell’s Pushkin Industries.  He made his money on pop psychology just to launch his sociological cult to make money for some white off white dudes.  And like he really could have helped black people.  Like where are the black doctors? I was listening to Point Forward that I randomly found and they were like the only people who were like why is it after black kids graduate why is it so difficult to get broadband service. 

And I guess what I’m trying to say is if we are not going to talk about data in america and how terrible is in East Asia like can I at least get a t-shirt with east asias who worked for the collective punch up. Cause I literally have no idea who’s actually looking at the end game for East Asians.  No boba is not that good. And no it’s not that nice to have that many nail salons in a town.  Like a good book anyone. 

[ink-and-dagger]

Sorry, as cool as it is to see more trans interpretation in fiction, something about cis women writing trans men without much regard for or understanding of the trans experience doesn't sit quite right with me. Reminds me of the whole BL craze of 14yo girls writing gay smut and sexualising gay men. It's fun to read you interpret Silco like that but it leaves a sour aftertaste. Still sending much love, your writing is immaculate. Just this thing in particular I think needs some reflection.

Hi Anon,

Firstly, thank you for taking the time to voice your concerns to me and for complimenting my writing. I’m glad you enjoy my stories ❤️

Secondly, I’ll forgive you for assuming my gender identity seeing as I stated my pronouns were she/her back when I first joined tumblr. But I feel now is the time to point out that I actually use she/they pronouns.

Now onto your concerns.

I agree that there are ethical problems surrounding authors telling stories that aren’t theirs to tell. I’m not going to reveal what my irl job is, but I will say that I work within an industry that is directly connected with the very issues you’re raising. So I’m very aware of what you speak. It is a genuine problem, and I am very much on your side, and have in fact spoken out in real life on these issues outside of fan fiction.

Personally, I would never even consider writing a fic from the point of view of a character who has a very particular life experience that I didn’t also share or have intimate knowledge of.

However, what you’re referring to here is a single, 5 sentence ficlet. Not an in-depth dive into the life experience and psyche of a trans man.

I think it’s a little unreasonable to expect authors to remain rigidly within their own lane when writing characters. If that were the case, does that mean the only ethically correct characters for me to have written in Drink With Me were Jinx and Astrid? Seeing as I personally have no experience of being a cis man (that particular interpretation of Silco) or a POC (Sevika/Max) or a gay man (Jasper/Max)? If that were the case then wouldn’t all stories be incredibly dull? I can’t imagine that there are too many authors in the world who tick so many minority boxes that they’re able to write a diverse cast of characters purely from personal experience alone.

Again, I’m not saying that it’s correct for me to go ahead and write a whole story about an experience I have no personal knowledge of. And you’re perfectly entitled to your opinion and how to feel about my work. But I do resent being demonised for a <100 word prompt. Particularly since I’m extremely passionate about and involved in the LGBT+ community.

I would also be genuinely interested to hear what it was within the 5 sentences that gave the impression that I didn’t give any prior care or consideration to the trans experience? I’d be particularly interested to hear your opinion if you yourself are trans, or are very close to someone who is. If not that’s fine, your thoughts are still perfectly valid, I just might take your opinion with a grain of salt, and also question whether or not this entire ask might be just a little bit hypocritical?

I’d also be interested to hear whether you’ve experienced a similar sour aftertaste with other creators who have written for trans Silco? Only because it is never my intent to be insensitive to anyone, and I would like to know if other writers are taking measures within their work that I’m not so I can rectify that.

I am open to an intelligent and honest conversation about this, and would genuinely invite you or anyone else who has similar concerns to reach out to me. I would hate for you to feel uncomfortable reading my work, and like any decent human I’m always striving to better myself and to keep learning.

I also don’t want you to take this response as an attack. I’m merely taking the opportunity to voice my concerns and opinions, just as you have.

[borkthemork]

The Wu Whereabouts Theory

Now that people are getting hyped for the month countdown toward Amphibia Season Three’s release, I am going to be talking about a theory my friend and I talked about over the past few months, and it’s time to buckle up because we’re going to be tackling this theory from a production, character design, and semantics perspective.

And why these specific factors? Because the theory revolves around these three characters.

And why I believe all of them are related in some way.

Now, you might ask yourself: Bork, how in the hell are these characters related? The old woman character doesn’t seem to have any semblance of features relating to Marcy. What about the dad, are you going to explain the dad? Are you pulling my leg?

And to that, we’re going to have to start small. I’ll first explain why the character on the right seems to be an important character to the story, how all these characters can be connected through deliberate design/semblance, and then I am going to hit it out of the park with the probability from a logical perspective with what the intro and past Marcy interactions seem to give us on why everyone is where they’re currently at.

Especially where Marcy’s father is currently located.

This theory is very, and I mean, very long, so hang on to your seats as we dive into my thoughts about where Season Three might lead us.

And credit goes to @CynDavilaChase on Twitter because she made me realize the probability of this theory in the first place.

And with that, let us begin!

Section One - Who’s This Woman?

With animated introductions, I think one of the big things I noticed with Amphibia Season Three’s intro is that it’s heavily serialized. Compared to Amphibia’s introduction with Seasons One and Two, there are a lot of animated scenes found in the sequence where the story is already being told in a narrative.

You get shots of Anne being introduced to her house, you get new important characters introduced in a lot, there appears to be insight into future events such as Anne getting a moped while being chased by government agents or the massive monkey robot chasing her through the alleyways.

A lot of the intro is prioritized over its serialized format, and that means the characters seen and animated in the foreground have to be important characters or else the studio is basically wasting time focusing on a background character that will never be seen again.

Of course, you get some sliding shots like with the construction workers or the beach scene with the beach-goers but that’s only for a second and they’re not truly the forefront.

But during the shots between 0:29 and 0:49, the sequences we see include a lot of what appears to be important scenes with important characters that will play some role in the story itself.

There are no parts in the sequence where background characters are put in the foreground. Each bit of the animation needs to count, it needs to tell a story of what’s to come and what the audience can anticipate to see.

Now that begs the question:

Why is a supposed random background character in the foreground?

We got some reason as to why the engineer lady looks important since she was in a shot full of important or supporting characters, but why her??

Sure, one could argue this shot could just be indicative of Andrias’s invasion, but there are numerous other ways to show that there’s an invasion without putting too much animation effort on one background character, especially from a composition perspective.

Pardon the messiness, I had to do this quick, but look at how all three ladies are lined up.

The far left grandma, when following from her head to the the front lady’s creates a line that not only creates a sense of direction for our eyes to follow but follows the more significant and foreground character of all three. Look at how the dragonflies occupy most of the top of the frame while the two older women stay in the marketplace’s form, and how this leaves the younger woman to be abruptly placed in the open — creating a visual that this character in particular is more important than the rest in the shot.

Check the way the characters move their eyes when the scene happens too: the background characters quickly look to the right, then the woman out in the open then directs her eyesight to the skyline, where all the dragonflies are flitting by.

Now, I’m not a storyboard artist or composer, I could be wrong on how the crew created this scene all together, but regardless it is still so odd to put emphasis on a background character in the front and then just leave it at that.

She has to be important in some way, and this is where I want to talk about character design.

Section Two - All Related or Am I Just Racist?

When it comes to character design we need to talk about how the character designers make sure to give Anne some form of semblance to her parents, and in this case, she looks a lot like her mother.

They got the bushy hair, the same skin tone, eyebrows, etc. And with her dad you could even see that Anne got her fluffy bangs from him specifically. Only one shared genetic trait, however.

This is deliberate, we know that for sure, and that is why I need to make this very clear as we transition to the similarities found in Marcy and the theorized characters, and why I believe they’re related in design. Mainly because the concept of race and appearance could be quite a debacle and I wanted to make sure that all of you know I am not assuming things out of naivety, and if I am, feel free to get my ass.

Other than that, let’s look at them again.

And here I shall compile the appearance stuff that each character seems to have.

With these three characters they seem to connect to one another with one genetic trait, but if one looks closely, there comes the question of the older lady (who I will just call Marcy’s mom at this point) and why she’s vastly different to Marcy when it comes to skin tone, hair color, and hell — if we look between Marcy and the engineer — why these two characters have vastly different hairstyles compared to the woman.

Even though I could give speculation and some doubt to the engineer and Marcy’s mom being related, and on first glance I couldn’t do the same with Marcy and her mom either, but then I did some digging and realized something. I can connect Marcy and her potential mom in one way — hair design.

Marcy and her mom both share the same poofy hair, it’s just that one is more short and the other is allowed to grow out in a nice little nest.

Don’t believe me?

They got the same floofy bangs with that specific hair line.

And when Marcy was little, Marcy appeared to need a hair tie because her hair was growing out, and it looked like this.

If we consider that what Marcy’s hair tie is holding up might be her bangs — bangs that might cover her eyesight from how floofy it is — then if you removed the hair tie then she and the woman would have a very similar looking design hair-wise.

Even with these hair similarities, however, there is still inquiry as to why Marcy is vastly different compared to her mother when it comes to skin and hair color, and here is where I go into some speculation to piece all of it together:

Marcy actually carries the appearance of her dad more than her mom.

Her dad has olive skin and black, straight hair, while her mother harbors tan skin and floofy, brown hair.

It’s this one piece of speculation that basically slides everything into place, but regardless it’s still speculation and one that I cannot confirm or even argue much about due to the nature of genetics and the limited info we have. But with this piece set in place, we could start to create the argument that maybe, just maybe, these characters are related.

But if they are, why do we only see Marcy’s mom and her supposed sister and not her dad?

Why do we get no indication of Marcy having a sister until Season Three?

How do we put all of this together?

Section Three - Distance and Finance

I rewatched True Colors numerous times when it came to understanding and interpreting what I could with the limited Marcy-centric flashback we had. I even went through episodes such as Maddie and Marcy, New Wartwood, and a lot of other episodes just to fit everything into place. And I think I have a good indication as to why this family is the way that it is.

First off, we’re going to be talking about Marcy’s dad and his new job out of state.

California is a very expensive state. And as someone who lives in California, the housing crisis and the ability to even stay in a house/dorm without sweating over the idea of being bankrupt is a very real thing.

So it is a curious thing that one of the reasons that the Wus had to leave came out to moving out-of-state due to a new job offer, one that infers a lot more money and probably a more stable living environment.

You could even hear the dad saying “Marcy, you have to understand!” when Marcy runs out, meaning that there’s probably a good reason as to why the parents believe that the move is essential, and I am banking on the idea of money for a number of reasons.

One, living in Los Angeles is expensive as hell.

Two, the coping mechanisms Marcy has makes sense if finance is the main comeuppance.

Three, the background art.

And four, why this girl has straight A’s and a PSAT book.

We already covered number one, but let’s take a look at what I mean about coping mechanisms.

Marcy Wu’s many flaws come from what looks to be the fear of being alone, and the fear of being seen as unvaluable and worthless; that if Marcy doesn’t prove herself lovable and essential to the people around her then she gets anxious and will do anything in her powers to make the people around her like her or stay with her.

She will omit information, move along objectives through passive and indirect persuasion, allow people to assert their will over her because they said so and, most importantly, does all of this because she fears the consequences when she gets outed or rocks the boat. Because rocking the boat means people will get mad at her, and she appears to try to avoid that situation of vulnerability like the plague until it all culminated into True Colors.

She is terrified of getting hurt. She is terrified, specifically, of consequences — punishment through stress, frustration, the people she loves looking at her differently because of the mistakes she’s made, etc.

Why do I say this? It’s because if we look into Marcy Wu with her pre-Amphibia self, a lot of these fears could be placed into that middle school scenario very well. Marcy Wu plays videogames and loves fiction because it is a form of escapism or happiness away from stress; she has this intense curiosity to basically anything of interest and uses that to thrive with getting straight A’s and an overall very solid record, but there’s still a probability that high expectations or making the people around her love her comes through said status of being the smart one (after all, she prides on her intellect, and sees it as essential to basically surviving the day to day).

Look at Marcy’s flashback in True Colors. She’s a middle schooler but is studying for the PSAT, which is mainly held in High School, and I’m no expert but I don’t think you read that stuff for fun or at least study it that early.

And I find it interesting that that’s the first shot we get of Marcy before we dive into her parents’ argument — education, studying, the expectation of high scores.

And then when you remember that Marcy is the least athletic of the girls, the thrift shop’s street she retreats to away from her parents is not that faraway from her neighborhood.

And this street, is messy as all hell. And with the revised background art for this area, nothing about the place changes but instead gets emphasized through more shots of how rundown it all looks!

The fact there’s a bail bonds building behind Mar-mar also doesn’t reassure me in the slightest.

So here’s where we are: Studying, getting good grades, a serious financial situation, lives near a rundown section of the city, high expectations, and the evaluation of one’s worth through intellect and academia.

What we are witnessing is a nuanced family situation. If we go by the assumption that the three girls’ lives are not only vastly different in personality but upbringing, then on an income scale, Anne would be middle income, Sasha would be high income, and Marcy is low income.

Her family’s struggling to be stable in a city that they can’t afford to live in, there’s a very high emphasis on good grades and education in the household, and the situation is so bad that her dad would take the proposal of a higher-paying job out of state than finding a similar job out in the city.

However, in this household’s struggle to have a better life, the parents had to focus on their children getting better living than them, and this means Marcy had to live in an environment where the biggest source of reward and praise is through intellect, academics, the approval of the parents.

And I could probably assume that this focus on finance also lead to very rough patches where Marcy was unable to be encouraged over stuff she loves like C&C or videogames, since the level of attention is low compared to the amount of happiness and pride her parents get when she gets an A+.

Especially when we consider that in the dialogue we hear from Mr. and Mrs. Wu, her dad is more assertive while her mom appears to care but doesn’t seem to go against her husband’s tone, so a lot of the probable issues might’ve come from Marcy wanting her dad’s approval and her mother never standing up for her when he became frustrated.

That would make a lot of context with Andrias even worse in retrospect, because that means the moment a male adult figure decided to care about her and give attention to what she loved, then Marcy fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

And could you blame her?

Now, let’s finally get a glimpse on one other character I’ve been neglecting in this essay.

This gal! Because if Marcy and her are somehow related, then we need to question why she was never mentioned or why she wasn’t involved in the conversation between Marcy and her parents.

I’ve done a massive theory post about this already, but the biggest probability comes in the design itself, since if Marcy’s sister went through trade school to be a mechanic/engineer then there’s a high probability she’s in her mid-Twenties. And if we consider that Marcy is 13, then Marcy would’ve been born when her sister was 12 or 13, and ultimately leave the household when she turned 18.

This means Marcy would’ve gone on with less contact from her sister for 6 years, and that’s a lot for a developing child.

It’s not improbable for Marcy to have lost contact with her big sister, or at least had lesser time to meet up with her due to work, college, or her own adult life now that she’s out of the house.

After all, in Maddie and Marcy, I find it very interesting that out of the advice Marcy could’ve given to Maddie about siblings, Marcy tells her that even though Maddie is the older sibling and is allowed to have her own life she suggests that maybe she should make some time for her sisters occasionally. Almost as if this was a ditto moment for her, that she understands but also had a good example of a sister who made time whenever she had the chance.

On more speculation terms, it would be cute to think that the reason Marcy has so much fire and spirit toward her fiction and love for games is because of her sister. After all, Marcy harbors the same interest toward engineering and robotics, it wouldn’t be a stretch in the imagination that perhaps her sister encouraged her to keep on going with what she felt passionate for regardless of their parents’ lack of response, to basically be unapologetic of what she loves, and this mantra kept her going for a lot of her life even when her sis went for trade school.

But let’s go on a side note here. I find it quite interesting that the character design of Marcy’s sis is also very telling, because not only does it tell a supposed story about who she was in the aftermath of graduation, but we could find a way to also put the theme of income and finance into her story as well.

Let’s be real these two are partners in all the way — from mechanics to engineers to straight up girlfriends, these two basically have their own business going on and I find it interesting that none of them just go with robotics or mechanics as a full-time thing, it’s mainly two jobs rolled up into one.

Why is that? There is some speculation that maybe they’re specialists and work in a very science-related area, but it seems highly likely that their main jobs are being car mechanics by day and robotic expert nerds by night. After all, the city can be hecked with money so I wouldn’t be surprised if they did two jobs at once to keep the lights on. I could also see them doing freelancing to repair or experiment with engineering projects since they take more money than actually makes in most cases.

Overall, money plays a big part with the family, and culminates to what I like to call a Massive Shitfest TM when they get alerted over the girls’ disappearances.

Section Four - Massive Shitfest Boogaloo and Where They Are Now~

In the aftermath of their teleport to Amphibia, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Wus had a big argument over Marcy and what should be done in the aftermath. Really, the family still needs to take that job because of finance, people are blaming each other over who pushed her to the brink, and then you have Marcy’s sister — who was probably out of the loop but probably knows how it was in the household — getting added into the mess of what just happened and adding her grief into the mix.

It is a blunder, terrifying and could break apart a family if I’m being honest. but what comes through is this:

People have now become stubborn in the Wu household, and no one is going to back down.

And what I mean is that Mrs. Wu, devastated by what happened ever since the argument in True Colors, will stay in Los Angeles out of grief and a supposed hope that Marcy would return. While Mr. Wu, determined to keep the finance going and keeping everyone stable and safe, abides by Mrs. Wu and decides to go out of state regardless, bringing back a flow of money to keep the Wu household stable through the aftermath.

It would make sense as to why Marcy’s mom is present in the intro but not any suspecting candidates for the dad.

Or how we see that there’s two older ladies with her in the intro. They might actually be close relatives who moved into the household out of the obligation to comfort Mrs. Wu but to also keep her company throughout this dark time in her life.

After all, when one loses a child, a lot of prior relations start to unravel as the status quo changes, and we are definitely going to see Anne confront the Wus and Waybrights when it comes to upbringing and home life.

But really, it is all up in the air. With Season Three around the corner, I am excited to see what the story has in store for us when it comes to the deep-diving into Marcy’s home life. She might’ve had a nuanced family life. She might’ve had abusive parents, perhaps no sister at all but a lot of relatives who grieved for her.

But with this theory out to the public, thank you all for reading along with this massive beast of a post, and I hope we get to see Marcy out of the aloe vera sauce very soon!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Jgy and jyl couple, where meng yao asked for nmj help for courting her in the middle of sunshot campain, could we see the political shenanigans involving jgs being his scummy self and newborn meng ling

World 2 - continuation of Four Worlds (JGY/JYL) - ao3 link

-

“So, uh,” Nie Mingjue said, uncertain and tripping over his tongue a way he never typically did. “What’s your plan?”

Meng Yao blinked at him.

“For courting Mistress Jiang,” Nie Mingjue clarified. “Unless you’ve already reached an agreement..?”

A bowl of soup every night and some pleasant conversation did not, in fact, make for an agreement to marriage, so Meng Yao shook his head.

“Right. So you have a plan, then.”

Meng Yao did not have a plan. Meng Yao did not have anything, nothing but his father’s blood, the weight of his promise to his mother, and his own clever mind; all he had was the sudden and overwhelming conviction that if he let Jiang Yanli go her own way without him that he would never again find a woman who would truly see him as her equal.

There was that girl, Qin Su, that he’d rescued – but that had been artifice, deliberate. He who had access to all of the reports of all the spies in the Sunshot Campaign, who sent out correspondence advising people on what roads were dangerous and which were safe, how could he not know that she would find danger in the route she had chosen? He had deliberately manufactured to rescue her as a means of winning her affection, his eyes all the while fixed on the prize of her surname, her family, which was one of the strongest subsidiary sects of Lanling Jin. They had influence he would need in winning back his name.

And while he had succeeded in his goal – once he had some status, she would fight her father to marry him, he was certain – he still thought he could detect the slightest hint of pity in her eyes. She was a girl in love, claiming that she didn’t care who he was or anything about his past, but how long would that last in the face of sober reality? In the face of struggle, of bitter adversity, of the opposition and scorn of all?

“…would you like help?” Nie Mingjue said, possibly correctly interpreting the blankness on Meng Yao’s face as absolute panic for the first time in the time they had known each other.

“Can you help?” Meng Yao inquired. It seemed unlikely.

“Well, I can write to my brother,” Nie Mingjue said, which sounded far more likely than the infamously frigid Chifeng-zun abruptly developing an expertise in wooing women. “And I’m on good terms with Mistress Jiang personally, so I might be able to provide some insight –”

“Wait,” Meng Yao said, fixing him with a stare. “What do you mean you’re on good terms with her personally?”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “Exactly what I said..? We first became acquainted as children, and while we were never close, we were always friendly.”

“But – you only allowed her to stay at our warcamp if she agreed to work! You said you’d kick her out if she wasn’t useful!”

“Naturally,” Nie Mingjue said. “Otherwise she might suspect I pitied her.”

Presumably, Meng Yao reflected, that statement made some amount of sense in Nie Mingjue’s head.

“What does she like, then?” he asked, deciding to focus on the practical. “Cooking, her brothers –”

Befriending people who are so far below her that they aren’t worthy of touching her shoe.

“She’s never had much talent at swordsmanship,” Nie Mingjue said at once, because of course that would be the first thing he would pay attention to. “Not her fault – she’s like Huaisang, born with a weak body, only worse, since it affected her breathing. Too much exertion and she’d turn blue…she used to chew licorice for it, when she was very young; if I recall correctly, she developed a taste for it.”

“Licorice? She likes licorice candy?”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“She also always enjoyed reading. Poetry, classic texts or light, she wasn’t particular,” he said, brow furrowed in recollection. “She liked puzzles. Was always doing something with her hands – not embroidery, though, not unless she had to. But other things.”

Meng Yao nodded, his quick mind already flooded with ideas, thoughts…he was going to need to be clever about this.

Worse – he was going to need to be honest.

Jiang Yanli deserved it.

-

Meng Yao went to Langya with Nie Mingjue’s recommendation letter in his pocket and the memory of two hands in his, pressing together tightly, and a “yes” that rang in his ears so loudly that he almost didn’t hear the sneers and disdain of the people around him.

His father refused to see him, his peers mocked him, his supervisor stole his achievements and called his mother a whore –

“Yes,” Jiang Yanli whispered in his ear. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Meng Yao ignored them all.

He figured out soon enough that Lanling Jin was getting him nowhere, and that without some tremendous achievement, he wouldn’t get the name he had promised his mother he’d have, the one he was starting to doubt he even really wanted.

His supervisor told him he’d be better off dead in the battlefield, implied that he’d see it happen sooner rather than later. Meng Yao considered killing him.

“I would be proud to be your wife.”

Meng Yao did not kill him.

Nie Mingjue might’ve, chasing him out of the battlefield the way he did, eyes red with rage at Jin Guangshan’s insulting pretense – if nothing else, he should have given Nie Mingjue face by accepting the letter, especially given how many battles Nie Mingjue had won for him – but Meng Yao did not.

“I have an idea,” he told Nie Mingjue once he’d had a chance to calm the man down. “You’re going to hate it, so I’m not going to tell you what it is.”

“Be safe,” Nie Mingjue said at once. “Don’t do anything stupid and widow Mistress Jiang before you even marry her.”

Meng Yao smiled, and closed his ears to the sound of Jiang Yanli’s voice. He would need it more than ever, where he was going, but more importantly, if he wanted to succeed, he needed he needed to be the sort of person he was without her.

“I won’t.”

-

It was, Jin Guangyao thought with satisfaction, a perfect strategy.

He had brought down Wen Ruohan with his own hands, saved Nie Mingjue’s life – “What part of ‘I won’t do anything stupid’ means ‘I’m going to go spy in the Nightless City’, you imbecile?” “Sect Leader Nie is happy to see me, then?” “Of course I’m happy to see you! Now get over here and let me break your legs!” – and even swore brotherhood with him and with Lan Xichen.

With such a string of achievements to his name, strong connections to the other Great Sects, and even a personal title, there was no way Jin Guangshan would be able to resist the idea of bringing him into the Jin family to steal some of his reflected glory, even if it meant he’d finally have to give his bastard son the recognition and the name he’d so long refused to grant him.

Oh, his father had gotten his dig in there, calling him Jin Guangyao and situating him firmly outside the line of inheritance for the next generation where he properly belonged, but a name was a name. He was Lanling Jin, now and forever; his promise to his mother fulfilled at long last.

“We will have to find something for you to do, I suppose,” Jin Guangshan said when Jin Guangyao rose to his feet bearing a new name, as though he was trying to place a distant relative into some position as a servant, the minor irritations attendant to the life of a sect leader. “You were a deputy once, weren’t you? Doing all sorts of administrative things. You can arrange the hunt that we will hold to celebrate the end of the war, at Phoenix Mountain.”

“It would be my honor to serve you in this matter, father,” Jin Guangyao said demurely, and even managed to avoid rolling his eyes at the way Jin Guangshan pretended he didn’t know exactly whose deputy he had been, even after Nie Mingjue’s rather impassioned and too-public lecture on the subject back in Langya. “I am pleased to be able to contribute something before I leave the family.”

“Before – what?” Jin Guangshan turned a little purple in his rage, embarrassed in front of all the people who had come to view the naming ceremony and who had all started whispering all at once. His wife, who had been glaring death, suddenly looked far more interested in the proceedings. “Leave? What are you talking about?”

“I’m engaged to be married,” Jin Guangyao said apologetically. “I agreed to marry in – you understand, I didn’t have the Jin surname at the time.”

“You have it now. The girl can marry into our family, instead!”

Jin Guangyao’s smile widened. “I’m so pleased to have your blessing upon my marriage, Father,” he said, bowing his head. A father’s blessing was critical to a proper wedding, so he wanted it to be clear to the entire room that Jin Guangshan had agreed. It would make it more difficult for him to recant later. “But her family is small, her parents and much of her sect killed in the war, and she has only one brother – I promised her that I would marry in to ensure that her parents’ legacy lives on, even if only as the collateral branch.”

“It does you credit to respect your future bride in such a manner,” Madame Jin said before Jin Guangshan could speak. Jin Guangyao had counted on her leaping to his aid: she must think that it was in her best interest that the one bastard that Jin Guangshan had finally legitimatized be immediately rendered utterly ineligible for inheriting the Jin sect, and that nothing else mattered. Her open support now would make it more difficult for her to recant later, too, when she discovered that he was foiling her plans for her own son’s marriage. “Quite romantic, even. It warms my heart to see such faithful love.”

Jin Guangshan’s face went even more purple. To be criticized in public like that – only Madame Jin could accomplish such a feat.

Jin Guangyao saluted and bowed deeply to them both once again. “Father and Mother honor me too much. With your approval, I will arrange the Phoenix Mountain hunt as a proud member of the Jin clan and leave the family to marry into my beloved’s family on the first auspicious date thereafter.”

“Fine,” Jin Guangshan said, his lip twisting into a sneer. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be part of Lanling Jin and then leave it behind – he probably expected Jin Guangyao to stay and beg for scraps of attention, to run around doing anything he wished, to scheme for an inheritance he would always be denied. He might not have been wrong, in another life where that was Jin Guangyao’s only route to power – he’d always been ambitious, and often a little too optimistic with it. “Fine. You are, after all, my son, and to marry you will be a great honor for whichever family you choose. We’ll pay for your wedding, and even endower you as if you were a bride worthy of the family you marry into – it is the least that we can do, for the great honor that you have brought to Lanling Jin.”

At least his father remembered that he’d made a contribution, Jin Guangyao thought, and bowed again. It was an insult to call it a dowry, as if Jin Guangyao was a woman, instead of simply bestowing it on him outright as a gift, and even that pathetic gesture was only being made because his father knew they were in public, surrounded by the sect leaders of the cultivation world that he wanted to impress. And even then, even then, he had still tried to be clever, to say he would only make Jin Guangyao equal to the family he married into.

No doubt he expected that the only family that would take him when he was Meng Yao was some bunch of nobodies, and that the wedding would therefore be small, cheap, and uninteresting, just as he no doubt thought Jin Guangyao deserved.

He was doomed to disappointment.

“Congratulations, brother,” Jin Zixuan said, and maybe even meant it. “Who is your intended bride?”

Jin Guangyao savored the moment.

“Mistress Jiang, of Yunmeng Jiang,” he said, and watched Jin Guangshan’s face go pale, Madame Jin’s twist in abrupt rage, Jin Zixuan’s eyes go wide in sudden envy.

There were those that said the best revenge was living well, and they had something of a point, only they had left out a bit.

The best revenge was living well – and rubbing your enemies’ faces in it.

[greymantledlady]

I'm starting to get a little worried at the expectations some of you have for the finale. i say this with love because I'm worried for people's mental health, especially younger people in the fandom. It's fun to analyse and make theories, but I think it's important that we all understand that there is a less than zero chance of us getting what we want - an onscreen gay relationship - in this specific season finale, for a number of reasons - but that doesn't mean the end of all hope.

For one thing, Marvel has only just given us our first major same sex attracted character in the MCU. It's sad that it's taken so long, but also a huge open doorway for the future. It was explicit in the text, with no room for any other interpretation than that Loki likes men as well as women. There was absolutely no way they were ever going to do any more than this, not in their first season of a popular show. It was already a risk from their point of view.

BUT. The good thing is, reactions to Loki's bisexuality have been largely positive. I don't think I've seen any negativity or homophobia myself - admittedly, I haven't been searching for controversy, but usually you hear about it anyway, if there's significant negative reactions. Compare it to the extremely mixed reactions people have had to the hints of Loki and Sylvie having a relationship, including reporting from popular news sites - there's a pretty big difference, and this is a good thing!

So Marvel now knows that the public, in general, is fairly chilled with the idea of Loki, a major character and fan favourite, being bisexual. This is very, very good news for us, because it means we're one step closer to him having an actual male love interest. But there is absolutely no way they would go all the way in the first season - they were waiting to see how the public would react to him being bisexual, first.

But that's not to say it's not ever going to happen. By all reports, the show has been renewed for a second season. We have a bisexual showrunner - another big first for Marvel as far as I know - who directed Sex Education, a show with multiple, major LGBT+ characters whose plotlines have been handled with love, care and consideration for fan reactions. Many factors point to the Loki show being the one that they use as the wedge in the door for more representation in Marvel.

But it won't happen this Wednesday. It really won't. It's too early for them. It's like expecting a whole house to be built already when the foundations are only just being laid. Please, you need to prepare yourself for this, guys.

There are some things we can hope for though! I'm personally hoping that the Loki and Sylvie romance will turn out to be a minor thing or otherwise not set in stone for the next season. Everyone involved who has been asked about it in interviews has called it a first romance for them both, and made comparisons to teenage puppy love, so I think this is a reasonable hope.

I'm also very much hoping we'll see Loki and Mobius onscreen together again, and their relationship built upon some more. Every episode they've been in together so far has furthered their relationship in some way, and I'm really hoping this continues in the finale. I also hope that the ending will leave things open for them to continue working together in the next season, and will continue to show us how deeply they are coming to care about each other, even if it isn't textually romantic yet.

We definitely need to NOT be sending hate if we get a neutral (or even a bad) finale. Don't send hate. Just don't. Be vocal about your complaints, if the finale warrants it, but don't make it a personal attack on anyone involved, ever.

And who knows? If we play our cards right, and if Kate Herron comes through for us, and Marvel doesn't get spooked, we might get something textual in the next season. Might. It's definitely frustrating, but this is how it is, and we need to have realistic and achievable expectations.

[wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse]

My Lady (Boromir x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Fluff, fighting

Word Count: 1719

Requested: @thespiritoflife

A/N I really liked writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! I figure it was about time to write for Boromir. For some reason, my first thought went to the Rohan, I don’t know why, so yeah, enjoy a person from Rohan falling for the captain of Gondor lol. Also, screw canon, Boromir lives y'all.

“So, this is the Captain I’ve been hearing about lately, fighting in all those battles,” I leaned over the counter, handing a mug to the rugged, handsome man across from me. He shook his dirty blond hair out of his face, smiling. 

“I suppose that would be me,” He said modestly. “But really, you should see my companion Aragorn in action, he is the best out of everyone.” I was surprised with the way he talked about this other person, rather than talking about himself. Most of the men I have talked to were like that. I looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of malice or dishonesty, but he was being truthful. He meant it. I was surprised, but after all, I should expect nothing less from a man of honor. 

I smiled cheekily. “Well, I guess I should then. Tell me, a fine man like yourself must have a sweet lady at home. She’s very lucky to have someone like you,” I blurted out without thinking.

He choked a little on his drink and wiped his mouth before smiling again. “Well my lady, you would be surprised to hear that this is not the case. I wish I had something like that, but not just one that sits at home.” He winked, and I hid a giggle, still embarrassed about what I said. 

  “Now, go enjoy your drink, Captain.” The minute he turned around, I cursed myself for being so forward. This was one of the reasons I wasn’t married yet, and my mother definitely liked to tease me about it. Very well, I went back to cleaning mugs, as the joyous noise swelled. Everyone was celebrating, for good reason, after all, these men helped to save us from ruin and despair. It was terrifying at Helm’s Deep, all of us women and children were shoved into the caves. Well, most of them...

The night began to draw to a close as the noise dwindled down. But there was still the hint of celebration in the air, and I smiled for the sake of it. A few people came back for their last drinks, and drunken steps followed. One person came back, that I had hoped to not see again. Alas, the Captain of Gondor stopped in front of me, not quite taken by drink and exhaustion. 

“Enjoyed the party?” I asked, cleaning up the last of the drinks. He grinned and nodded. “Glad to hear it,” I said, avoiding his gaze. I was still embarrassed about what happened earlier, and I really hoped it wouldn’t come up. 

Instead, he brought up something else. “I never got your name,” he said, moving his hand on top of mine. My stomach flipped over, how was his touch so intoxicating? I barely knew him. 

I swallowed the butterflies, and replied confidently, “My name is y/n. And I must admit, I have heard so much about you, but I’m not even sure as to what your name might be. It is Boromir, am I correct?”

“Yes, that would be me. Y/n, such a beautiful name.” He spoke thoughtfully, and my breath caught in my throat. We talked a bit more, but I slowed the conversation down. 

I withdrew my hand from his and went back to cleaning mugs. I couldn’t get involved with him, he was basically a prince after all. An emotion I couldn’t quite interpret flashed through his face, but he quickly stood up, understanding I wanted to be alone.

“Well, my lady y/n, I do hope we meet again.” He nodded his head and walked away. 

As soon as he turned a corner, I slumped down behind the counter. I knew that I could not be with him. I was just a woman of Rohan, nothing else. But there were so few men like him. Far too many would look down upon me, and there were only a few that would be respectful. But he was something completely different. It was such a short conversation, but I already regretted sending him away. At this point, there was nothing left I could do.

---------------------------------------Time Skip-------------------------------------

Death. Destruction. The ruins of Gondor loomed over me. Eowyn is missing. So many dead. I whirled around, trying my best to defend myself. Exhaustion wore me down. An orc hit me from behind, sinking its blade into my arm. I cried out, and with the last strength I had, I sliced its throat. I clutched my arm, trying to stop the blood from running down to my hands. I collapsed, curling up. As the world became dark, I could have sworn I heard someone yelling my name.

My head was ringing as I slowly opened my eyes, adjusting them to the light. I moved sluggishly, still trying to figure out what happened. I felt a cloth around my arm, binding it, and my face felt clean. Free of the blood and dirt that had been caked on it. But where was I? I sat up, breathing in the cool air. It looked like a healing ward, and someone else was here.

“Excuse me? Miss?” I called out to the other woman. She walked over briskly and set some pillows behind my back.

She flittered about, changing my dressings, all the while talking. “Oh I’m so sorry dear, I didn’t see that you were awake yet. I was told to give you the best treatment and to get you your own room, so here we are. I wasn’t sure when you were going to wake up, oh dear me. You should probably lay down for longer, you still have circles under your eyes. My you had a bunch of blood on you. I was so surprised to see such a young lady like yourself in such a horrid place. Bad luck I say, bad luck. Although I am so old, I have seen so much, but not something like this!” She babbled on, much to my amusement. She was a mother hen, pecking and poking into other’s business. But she was sweet. 

I interrupted her on another spiel, trying to get a straight answer. “I’m sorry, but who gave you these orders, to take care of me and such? I don’t mean to pry, I just want to know. Also, do you know how long this will take? I need to find some people.”

She smiled. “Oh dear, you have a lot in store for you. You’re fine to go walk around and find some people. However, I do suggest you take the path to the gardens, it is quite beautiful.” She winked, and exited the room, leaving the door open. I was slightly stunned, this was a lot to take in. I could not tell what she was hinting at though.

I pulled on some shoes and slowly began my way down. It was a clear path to where I was supposed to go, but I hesitated. What was with all this secrecy? I felt a knot in my stomach as I continued, wary of my surroundings. I knew there were no orcs, but something seemed off.

I turned a corner and heard a voice I did not expect. “I see your injuries have begun healing. I am glad to see it.” Boromir spoke softly, his gaze moving over me.

“Boromir?” I whispered, shocked to see him. “Wh-what is this? What’s going on?” He motioned me to sit next to him on the bench, and I did, a healthy distance away from him.

“I found you. On the field. I didn’t believe it was you at first, I thought my eyes were deceiving me, trying to give me what I wanted most. But it truly was you, and you were lying there, still, bleeding. I assumed the worst. I know we don’t know each other that well, so it must seem odd for me to care so much. But dear, you mean so much to me. More than you know. I’m not mad like the others for you being out there. I admire your bravery and the skills it must’ve taken to slay all the orcs around you. I wasn’t there, but based on the number of bodies around you, I would assume that would be your work. Well, I’m going on and on here, but what I’m really trying to say is, stay. Stay here, with me.” Boromir took a breath, his cheeks full of color. 

At this point, my stomach was exploding, I could feel that I was shaking a little. Sure, it wasn’t some love confession, but I didn’t need that from him. The fact that he wanted me to stay was enough. 

“I think I will stay, as long as we can visit Rohan often,” I said nervously. His cheeks grew even darker, and he held my hand and pressed the lightest kiss to it. I giggled, and he drew me into a warm hug. I nestled into his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Now, this is what I was missing out on this entire time.

“Wait,” I said, remembering what had happened at Helm’s Deep, what I hadn’t told anyone. “There is something you should know.”

Boromir cocked an eyebrow, obviously confused. “What do you mean?” He asked.

I looked down. “I, uh, might not have been in the caves with everyone else. In fact, do you remember the soldier that you saved from the spear? That might have been me. Possibly.” I smiled, and his face brightened.

“Oh yes, I know exactly who you’re talking abo- wait a minute. That was you? My lady, you are a brilliant warrior. The spear was a minor setback, you did amazing that night.” He gushed, and I grinned at how sweet he was being.

“Boromir, this does not bother you? That I was out fighting? That I, a woman, was part of a battle?” I questioned. 

He started laughing, his smile lighting up his eyes. He really was handsome. “No dear, not at all. In fact, it makes things even better. You are an amazing fighter and an amazing person. No, it doesn’t bother me one bit.”

The sun moved through the clouds, the rays hitting us perfectly. We sat and joked in the warmth all afternoon, forgetting the looming war for just a little bit.

Everything taglist: @hey-its-nonny 

[wispforever]

if youre still doing the character thing, how about spirit or marie?

I sure am. How about Spirit And Marie? Both wonderful characters. I’ll do Marie first, then Spirit. Thanks for the excuse to infodump, really. You people are too kind.

Marie Mjolnir

My first impression of Marie was the same impression I get of most female characters in anime. It’s either “why do their clothes have to look like that” or “oh god here comes the obligatory sexist heteronormative romance”. For Marie, it was more of the second. They mention in the same episode she’s introduced that Stein is her “first love”, which told me that if she had a large place in the plot, her assigned male counterpart around which to orbit would be him. Though I’ve never read the Soul Eater manga, I believe they do end up getting together there (I could be wrong). Whatever the case, I was relieved that Marie’s and Stein’s relationship (though heavily implied to be romantic, at least on Marie’s side) was left open to interpretation in the anime. I’m just very sick of cool badass female characters like Marie being reduced to the man they pine after. So, I guess my first impression of Marie and my impression of her now are largely the same. While I appreciate the moments we get to see her strengths and ability to operate on her own, I do think that her character really suffers because of the whole sexist “oh gosh all I want is to find a husband and retire” “oh my I have to take care of Stein” like okay, I had enough at the cat girl smothering Soul with her humungo-tits. I had enough at sexualizing underage girls and women in general. I had enough at making sexual harassment a punchline. That being said, when we push all of the shitty writing to the side, I admire Marie for her strength and how she interacts with the children, Crona in particular. Which leads me to my favorite moment(s).

The relationship Crona and Marie have interests me the most, since I’m really drawn to the parallels between Marie and Medusa. As parental figures (and as characters), they’re about as different as you can get. As Crona’s mother, Medusa is obviously abusive. Along with being negligent, she abuses Crona mentally, emotionally, and physically. In general, Medusa is a person who doesn’t appear to value interpersonal relationships, putting it nicely. She instead is more focused on her own interests, often to the detriment of those around her. Crona is Medusa’s only immediate family (besides Arachne who she is estranged from), and so they suffer the most from her refusal to show even a shred of human decency or warmth. They suffer especially because they are her child, meaning they’re stuck with her essentially, and repetivie abuse between family members like a mother and child often becomes complex because of the necessity of having a parental figure in your life to support you as you grow up. Medusa teaches Crona that their boundaries don’t matter and that they are only good as long as they are useful and do as they’re told. This is what makes Marie’s influence on Crona so cool to watch. Marie is caring by nature, loving and nurturing by nature. Her very wavelegnth is healing. She is kind and does what’s right reflexively. Marie is the exact embodiment of what Crona always needed but what, even upon being rescued by the academy, still felt so foreign to them: unconditional love. Crona struggles to understand why the other kids helped them, why Maka felt the inclination to stop their battle and save Crona instead by trying to understand them, why the kids are still so kind to them even after everything. They do not understand that love is not a bargaining chip. It isn’t leverage in an argument. It’s not a tool for emotional manipulation. Love is caring for the people close to you, just because. Love for the sake of love. The other kids and teachers at the academy are the ones who are able to pull Crona out of all Medusa’s lies, and Marie is a Huge part of that. Even though I have greivances with this being the largest part of her character and what that implies for female characters in general, it doesn’t stop being so beautiful to me that she could help Crona heal in this way. Marie = best mom for the win

Most of the story ideas I have for Marie involve her relationship with Crona or Stein. Say, this covers my unpopular opinion too. I don’t like Stein and Marie as a couple, but I really enjoy writing them as friends, because even though I don’t really jive with them being together romantically, I think their dynamic is an interesting one to explore because they Are so different.

Getting into that a little bit more, I’d like to start by saying I don’t care if other people like Stein and Marie being a couple. That’s great doods, keep doing you. The fanart’s adorable, the meta’s fantastic. Whoever you are, SteinMarie shippers, ffs keep kicking ASS. This is just my preference and opinion. Zero shade in this house. That said, because of my frustrations about Marie’s character I discussed in the first paragraph, I don’t like the idea of her and Stein being together romantically. It’s really a classic sexist trope: the troubled man and his sweet nurse. I’m also just fed up in general with the hetero-nonsense, so there. However, they are both wonderful characters that I enjoy very much seperately. Also, I think it’s worth mentioning that I’ve only seen the anime, so I can’t speak for the manga as far as their relationship or Marie’s character in general.

Oh shit I accidentally already talked about this one lmao [see the second paragraph]

One headcanon I like to think about when I’m writing Marie is that she likes women (in addition to men or not) and she struggles with comphet. Just something interesting I like to think about. It’s really fun for me to take characters who have been written as pining or had 10 million failed relationships and be like “say what if they can’t find a husband cuz really what they really need is a wife”. I’ll talk about that more with Spirit inevitably.

Spirit Albarn

My first impression of Spirit, obviously him being a cheater, really came with a lot of distaste. I come from a family that was torn apart by infidelity, among other things, so it really rubs me the wrong way. However, his saving grace for me was that he genuinely loves his daughter. It appears that, whether it’s played for laughs or not, he just can’t find fulfillment in his romantic relationships. The reason is left up to the veiwers. Spirit, ultimately, is not just a shitty person, which is how most cheaters are protrayed in media. “Well, they cheated because they don’t care if they hurt people”, “they cheated because they are shit and that’s it”. That’s a fine explanation if you plan to do nothing with whatever character you’re describing, but Spirit is relatively recurring and is shown to be neither mean-spirited or emotionally unintelligent. It bothers me that his cheating and routine sexist behaviour isn’t taken seriously enough to be a subject that Soul Eater tackles and deals with. But that’s fine. I’ll just do it myself. At any rate, I still feel that same way about Spirit’s character, but I find it intriguing that he seems to genuinely want to become a better father and is actually a pretty good dad when it comes to his interactions with Maka. If Soul Eater had been brave enough to develop him more, maybe delve into the reasoning behind his impulsive romantic affairs, I think Spirit as a character could have been done more justice. It seems to me that he could be suffering from some of that wonderful compulsory heterosexuality that I mentioned before, then becoming confused when the woman he claims to love leaves him feeling empty. Rattling my gay little cage

When I think of my favorite moments with Spirit, I think of his moments with Maka, but I’m gonna hold off on that until I get to favorite relationship(s). In reference to what I talked about in the first paragraph, one moment I find really interesting when I’m thinking about my interpretation of Spirit’s character is the scene where he and Maka are on the roof talking. Maka asks Spirit why he cheated on her mother if he did, in fact, love her. He doesn’t appear to know the answer, and he doesn’t really understand how to effectively communicate that, though he was shitty husband, what he really wants now is to try and be a better dad. We hear his inner monologue, and he says something like “I love you [Maka] and your mama. That’s the truth. That’s the truth. That’s the truth.” Every time he says “its the truth” it sounds more like he’s forcing it. This is actually something that is SO strange to me. Even if I didn’t project a queer narrative on to the characters I love, I would look at this and be like “huh that is a Weird thing to say in that specific way”. Why does he say it like that? Why does he have to say it more than once? He’s only talking to HIMSELF. It isn’t like he’s trying to convince Maka. Why does he have to convince himself?? Could it possibly be because he’s reached a conclusion about his romantic/sexual orientation that he’s been trying to swallow his Entire Life??? makes ya wonder, doesn’t it, queers?

Just like I said when I talked about Stein, most of the stories I have in mind with Spirit center around that sweet gayness. But also, I like to think of ways Spirit could come to terms with his sexuality, how it might have affected him when he was young, his relationship with all these women, with his wife. I love to think about him being a dad at 18 and trying his best, but how much responsibility that must have been. Lots of great ideas when it comes to Spirit.

Um? unpopular opinion would be all the standard like I said with Stein lmao. “Oh no!” scream the heteros, “that they/them on tumblr is making Soul Eater queer we canst not allow that in our church!!!111!” But besides that, maybe even the fact that I think he’s redeemable?? Idk most everyone I’ve met thinks Spirit is funny at least and just calls him a dumbass and a slut (affectionate). Doesn’t mean anybody thinks cheating on your wife 56 times is okay so. I like this fandom, it’s chill here. My favorite is when I see my art tagged like “aw the stupid man and his crazy bf” like YOU ARE RIGHT

My favorite relationship when it comes to Spirit (besides Stein cuz if I start talking about them again I’ll never finish this ask) is the one he has with Maka. If you can call it a relationship lol. I guess I just find Spirit’s approach to Maka as a parent really refreshing. Not that the parents in other shows don’t love their kids or whatever, it’s just that the loving parent always seems to be paired with some other trope that makes their character hard to approach. especially in anime. Like the perfect mother who dies in the first episode, and we spend the rest of the show mourning her. Or the father whose love is somehow everlasting even though he’s never home. It’s really the fact that Spirit is even THERE that I love. He knows what Maka is up to. He talks about her. He’s invested in her life, and he loves her. All he wants is to spend time with her, and though he’s sad when she turns him down, he doesn’t push her. god dammit I just like a dad who actually loves his kids without all the usual strings attached like. oh my kids are a huge pain in my ass, but I love them in spite of it. oh i’m a man so can’t relate to my children in a meaningful way but i try. Get the fuck outta here with that shit. I want all the dads to get so happy when their daughters wanna hang with them that they throw up like Spirit. Give me the guy who loves his daughter so naturally, whose daughter is such a huge part of his life, that it doesn’t even occur to him stop trying even if she literally wants to murder him. That’s Spirit. jfc

To end with a cute little headcanon, I really love to think that when Spirit gets older and starts losing the color in his hair, instead of getting white or grey, his hair turns a pale pink color cuz he’s such an aggressive redhead. Wouldn’t that just be adorable? late 30′s, early 40′s, Spirit starts getting little pink streaks in his hair and then bam. Little pink old man Spirit XD

There ya have it. Thanks for the ask, and feel free to send more.

[mostly-mundane-atla]

I enjoy learning from your blog sm—ty for all you share. Especially since I’ve found there’s very few sources. Sry if you’ve talked about this before, but if you’re still open to answering questions I was wondering what the culture surrounding lgbt+ identities? You talked a bit about gender roles and co-husbands, but is homophobia still prevalent? (Would it be less so in-universe versus a modern au?) Also, if you’re willing to share any terminology (whether two-spirit is used?) used?

Alright, here's where things get a little tricky.

It's hard to really talk about queerness in other cultures because the idea that sexuality and attraction is an inherent part of your identity is not in any way universal. This is where you get a lot of people claiming certain historians and anthropologists are homophobic (and that's not to say some of them aren't but people tend to make really harsh assumptions without reading into what's actually being said) for saying that x or y doesn't mean this person was gay as we understand it. In a lot of cultures, the people you persue personal relationships with isn't a part of who you are, just something you do. So a man who prefered the companionship of other men, say in medieval England, would likely still marry a woman and have children to help him with work as he ages and take care of him when he's old. Does that mean he couldn't have a loving relationship with his wife, just because she wasn't a man and he wasn't attracted to her? No. Is it wrong if he wouldn't consider this not being himself, because he grew up in a world where attraction and sexuality is what you do rather than who you are? I can't really answer that.

And so you take this idea that romantic relationships are something you do rather than an ingrained part of your identity, and you add to that this concept practically unheard of nowadays that romance really isn't important. That doesn't mean that people never had romantic feelings or acted on them, just that this idea of courtly love, that being in love makes you a better person and thus is inherently righteous, was never a part of the culture. You got together with someone because you weren't related and they were someone you didn't mind surviving and having kids with, not strictly because you were in love with them. And then, unlike medieval England, sex was not something to be considered shameful or sinful, and definitely didn't have to be exclusive between spouses.

There was a bit off accidental accuracy in Kya saying that sort of thing isn't talked about in the comics. You wouldn't hear stories about a romantic love between two men or two women, but you also wouldn't really hear about romantic love between a woman and a man; not unless that was your parents' or grandparents' experience and they shared that with you. The important loves are considered to be between family members. You'll notice in Inuit stories a lot that if a girl is kidnapped and force into a marriage, it's her brother who rescues her, not her sweetheart.

I'm sure there would be some prejudiced people, because let's face it, you can't please them all. But I think the main reason you wouldn't see many gay couples as we understand them to be would have more to do with needing children without access to artificial insemination, as well as very different and comparatively irreverent attitudes toward sex and romance. (In fact, I'm reminded of a story this elder woman shared when my class went to learn a bit about Native cultures back in elementary school. She and her friend left their village and started living among white people. They were still learning English and these two white men, friends themselves, were friendly with them and helped them out, not just that first day, but over the course of, I wanna say some months? Anyway, one of them proposed to the lady telling us this story and the other to her friend. The men had fallen in love and already considered themselves in romantic relationships with these women. The women got a good laugh out of this because they hadn't realized that being so personal and familiar and generally happy to be around someone could be interpreted as romantic interest. Their response to these guys was basically "sure, why not" because romantic feelings or no, they genuinely enjoyed their company.)

If we wanna talk gender, the cultural understanding there is a little different there too. Sipiniq is Inuktittut for "baby that changed its sex at birth" which, as far as I understand, has been used for both intersex and trans people. I can't find anything on the way they specifically were seen by the community, let alone regional specifics but to speak on gender as a whole the cultures are interesting for a few reasons. Inupiat names and third person pronouns aren't gendered. You are named after a person to carry on their soul, and this person is not guaranteed to be your gender. So if you're afab, no one is calling you "she" as opposed to "he" because that's not how the language works and a few people might actually call you "grandpa" or "uncle" because that's who you were named after and that's whose soul is kept in your body. You might be seen as having the body of a man or woman, and the limitations that come with it, but that which makes you yourself is not a gendered thing. King Islanders even had a Messenger Feast tradition where women would dress as men and men would dress as women. They had masks for it and everything.

Queerness is such a nebulous thing and so often we approach it with such a limited understanding, insisting ours is the only right way to treat it. Sometimes the answer to "well were they gay/trans?" can only be "it's complicated" and we all have to be more okay with that. Not every culture has the same concept of or places the same importance on sexuality, romance, or gender.

[indiecentwriter]

Bareback Marketing

A short Persona 5 idea based on the barista meme going around, hope y'all like it if you read it!

-----

“This is the last time I’m going to ask, are you absolutely certain that you’ll be able to go the whole shift like this?”

Despite answering the same way every time he asked the question, Haru lacked the certainty Soujirou wanted. That had no bearing on her answer, however.

“Of course!” She spoke with confidence and a smile, carefully pinching the space between her forefinger and thumb.

Maybe if she stopped her hands from shaking, it would stop the nerves forcing her heart to race so quickly in her chest.

From the look on the older man’s face, he believed her about as much as Haru believed herself. Not at all, but unwilling to dive into it further than surface level. He had a vacation day to get to, after all.

“Very well,” he said with a sigh, looking around Leblanc one last time. He checked the counters, the coffee beans, the tables, before landing on the one young teen officially in his employ. “I don’t want to come back and hear some regulars complaining about you chickening out. I trust that you’ll go through with this whether you’re ready or not, but I expect that you understand how much of a pain it will be if it gets around that we tried this without committing all the way.”

“Of course!” Haru spoke truthfully. If she knew anything, it was marketing.

All that knowledge told her this was the soundest idea that Soujirou could utilize for as long as she worked at Leblanc. Her common-sense screamed the opposite.

After all, just watching Soujirou’s eyes glance up and down across her new ‘uniform’ told her plenty well how badly this would go. A tremor wracked her form as she felt his gaze cross over her, picking up every little detail of what she was- was not wearing.

That being everything but the simple green apron that covered almost nothing.

Thanks only to some very loose interpretations of the Tokyo legal code, local coffee shops realized that work uniforms superseded public decency laws. As such, a few bold workers decided to take advantage of that fact in order to increase the number of tips they could receive in a shift. None of their bosses were quite so happy about the idea, which is where Haru saw an opportunity.

Make use of that legal loophole and advertise it. Word of mouth and some simple social media marketing through some friends on a cool day all to let people know that Leblanc had something no other competitor did.

That being an attractive, fluffy-haired teen with a nervous smile and a naked body almost entirely on display.

Yes, Haru elected to work a shift wearing just the one scrap of cloth and nothing else, willingly setting herself up to be gawked at by each and every customer that walked through the door. She considered how many people would normally come in on an average day, how many more would come in on a colder day, how many would see the social media posts and so many more details. Haru wanted this project to be perfect, all so she could know she was prepared to do anything for the success of her own cafe in the future.

The one thing she forgot to consider was her apron. A green one in the same fashion as Soujirou’s, a variety that ran thinner than its contemporaries.

Not one to brag, Haru still recognized that she had the largest chest of any girl in her school year at Shujin, and possibly of the entire school. With the size of her breasts and the width of the apron, the fabric had no choice but to bunch up in her cleavage and leave her nipples completely on display. The length of it also posed a problem, ending just a mere centimeter short of covering her freshly waxed sex.

While the few viral photos online showed women just barely skating by as ‘decent’ from the front, Haru jumped right past that and into the territory of exposing more of herself than anyone in the entire country could legally see of a woman in porn. Some countries failed to even consider her old enough to have sex yet!

And as he stood ready to leave, Haru knew Soujirou was considering every little detail of that fact. Not inappropriately, Haru recognized, but considering it nonetheless.

‘I make it a policy to not consider any girl under twenty as a woman,’ he spoke at one point, filling Haru with a strange feeling of appreciation and annoyance at once.

He simply cared, truly the sign of a doting father. Even so, he was considering it for two reasons; the money it would bring, and the excuse to take the day off of work. Truly, the signs of an aging bachelor.

“Well, I’m off, then,” he finally said, taking his hat off the coat rack and turning to the door. “Good luck, and make sure to call Ren if anything goes wrong.”

“I will! Enjoy your day, Sakura-san!” Haru cheerily responded, waving her hand and becoming extremely aware of how the simple movement jiggled her chest without any form of restraint over it.

That awareness only intensified as Soujirou opened the door to leave. A cold gust of wind rushed into the shop, quickly brushing over each and every exposed inch of Haru’s body.

Goosebumps broke out over her arms, followed by breaking out everywhere else. A gasp passed through her lips as that swift, sensual touch grazed her nipples, already stiff from nerves and suddenly rock hard from the cold. It teased her body, making her even more aware that her strictly capitalistic idea was very quickly turning far more arousing than she intended.

The delicate frost grazed between her legs, bringing her thighs to clench as a whimper left her throat. Her sensitive clit, hiding in its small hood just moments before, quickly stood to attention and begged for more. The petals of her flower bloomed with heat as the wind highlighted the increasingly large amount of arousal gathering across them. She was in hell, and hell was a coffee shop filled with her own hubris.

The closing of the door a moment later did nothing to dampen the aching fire building, building, building inside of her. No, there was only one way to manage this heat before any customers arrived and saw her shame.

—-

Pictured, the interior of Leblanc. Behind the counter stands a lone girl, one arm resting on the countertop as her face is buried in the crook of her elbow. From the angle, it is clear to see she is wearing an apron, and clearer still that it covers nothing at all with only her arm giving some form of privacy. Her other hand is clearly reaching down to the end of her apron between her thighs, the camera showing a pair of fingers seemingly reaching inside herself.

‘First customer priveleges with @OkumuraHaru at @YongenLeblanc OwOb’ #LeblancCoffee #NakedBarista #HotfriendsHotdrinks - @CutestTakamaki, 7:03 AM.

[donutloverxo]

Nude

Run through - Steve wants to try new things so he takes a painting class with a nude painting subject. Only the woman he has to paint are you, Peppers assistant and his crush.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Steve Rogers was many things. He was an artist, an amateur cook (who really does try), a loyal friend, a good citizen, a soldier. Yet when people looked at him, they only ever saw the captain. His friends called him cap. He'd go weeks without hearing his own name. Sometimes he felt the lines were blurred. When did Steve Rogers end and Captain America begin?

He had a big wake up call when he confronted Tony, saying he wasn’t iron man, it was an alter ego. To which Tony said that Steve was basically captain America. And Steve couldn’t argue or disagree, because it was true. He didn’t want to lose himself in his work anymore than he already had. His therapist told him to make healthy boundaries, which is what he’s going to do.

So he ordered some colors and pencils online and got to work on his art, for the first time in a long time. It was exhilarating and freeing. He could lose himself in it, go on for hours without thinking and seeing anything but the colors and his canvas. Which was extremely rare for him. He could rarely ever shut his brain off or run from his traumatic memories.

Everyone could see the visible change in him. How he seemed happier. Clint even joked about it saying

“Cap must be getting some”

To which Steve only snorted. There was no room for anything as complicated as a relationship or sex in his life, not right now.

But wouldn’t it be nice? To have a woman to hold and to paint. To love and care for. He didn’t let himself delve too much into that fantasy. Because even if it was a nice escape once in a while, he knew that while Steve Rogers might make a good partner, Captain America would certainly not. He would never subject any woman to deal with either of them.

With some encouragement from Sam and his old friends he started attending painting classes at his alma mater, the Brooklyn College, every Saturday evening. It helped him make some friends. He didn’t know if he could call them friends. Most of them were too different from him. They seemed like different types of 'tortured artists'

When he heard that there would be a nude subject to paint the next class, he was a little bit hesitant. Such a thing would’ve been scandalous in the 40s. But he was trying to open himself up and that meant pushing his comfort zone, even just a little bit.

When he set up his canvas, oil colors and brushes that Saturday he expected male subject. He didn’t however expect to hear a woman’s voice. He was too focused on his set up to look up, whatever. He didn’t care if it was a man or a woman. There wouldn't be anything erotic about it. This was strictly professional and educational.

He looked up to take a good look at his subject, when he felt as if his soul was knocked out of him. There you stood, his crush, Pepper Potts' assistant, and the woman who turned him down.

“You know back in my day they used to play elevator music” He said to drown out the awkward silence. Even after all this time, he still didn’t know how to talk to women. He had had a crush on you since the moment he laid eyes on you. You were always so funny and sweet. Asking him and everyone about their day, if they were doing well. Always willing to help others.

When he let it slip that he likes banana bread, you baked him a whole loaf of it, which chocolate chips so ‘so you think of me when you have them. They’re my signature of sorts' you had said proudly. Of course he’d be thinking of you when he ate it. Overthinking actually. Wondering If you like him as he likes you, or if you’re just being your sweet self.

“Oh we still have that!” You chirped “but not in um professional or business buildings like these”

He just nodded. Tapping his foot impatiently. You would get off in just six floors it was now or never. “Hey uh – what are you doing this Friday?” he asked shyly.

“Oh just watching some Gordon Ramsay with my dog probably. I have no life” you laughed at your own self depreciating joke “Why?” you tilted your head.

“I was thinking, maybe we could get dinner? Only if you uh – you wanted to, you're free to say no” he promised. Maybe he should’ve asked you to ‘hang out' or 'for a coffee' like most people these days. But he felt that was no way to treat a lady, especially one like you.

“Oh Steve” he was already disappointed upon hearing your tone “I would’ve loved to. But even though we don’t work together, it wouldn’t look good you know? I mean I don’t care much for 'my image'” You said making air quotes “But I don’t, it’ll be complicated” You looked completely defeated. As if it hurt you to say no more than it hurt him to hear it.

“I completely understand” He nodded “no hard feelings” he gave you a smile as he watched you walk away. It did break his heart a bit, but he’d respect your feelings.

He looked at you taking off your satin robe revealing your bare body to the class of twenty or so artists. His breathe hitched. Your hair flowing down your back and covering a bit of your left breast, your soft stomach and thighs, the patch of soft curls at your core, your nipples hard against the chilly air, and how your stomach rolled a bit as you sat uncomfortably on the stool. You were beautiful. A work of art even. There was absolutely no way he could do you justice. He started drawing an outline on his canvas. You would very well be his best subject.

You looked around a bit, your fingers holding onto the stool for dear life so you could stave off the anxiety and feeling of being so exposed. Then your eyes landed on him. You thought you were dreaming, maybe you didn’t see properly, so you did a double take. Then you were frozen on the spot. There he was, Captain Rogers, the first Avenger, the man you often dreamt about, sitting right in front of you while you were naked as the day you were born.

You had no idea what you should do. This was literally like a nightmare come true. If you flee it would look bad, if you didn’t it might look worse. You decided you’d follow his lead. So you peeked a glance at him from the corner of your eyes and saw him, sketching you? Holy shit Steve Rogers was drawing a nude portrait of you. What has your life become?

You had always been insecure about your body. You knew magazines, porn and movies were meant to feed people lies to get them to buy more things. That didn’t make you feel any less bad about not looking anything like the women in them. You tried to remind yourself that you have many things going for you. Like your supporting family, your loving friends, your cute labrador, your amazing job.

Speaking of your job, exactly why you turned Steve freaking Rogers down! A man that looks like him asking you out and you say no. Your friends flat out laughed in your face at your unfortunate predicament, where the cake is right there but you can't eat it. Now that you thought about it, it was funny.

Your co-workers weren’t kind to you. Even on your best day you didn’t look anything like the women you worked with, who would stab you in the back the first chance the get. You were kind to everyone, but you knew by now not to expect the same treatment back. Which was why you had to say no to the beefy blonde. You didn’t want to be branded as the ‘office slut’.

Which now you were sure you would be. You didn’t know Steve enough to know he’d be willing to keep this a secret. He didn’t seem like someone who would do that to you. But you still couldn’t help but think the worst.

You squirmed and shivered in the chair for a good part of the next two hours. By the end your back was sore and you did everything you could to avoid looking at Steve, only sneaking glances here and there, while he seemed too engrossed in his work.

You had done this a couple of times before, to accept your body for what it is and get comfortable with it. If you weren’t going to love it no one would do it for you. Finally the time was up and the artists were asked to pack up for the day.

You quickly got up from your stool putting the robe back on. You turned your back to Steve, stretching your muscles. You couldn’t wait to lay down on your comfy bed and just get out of here. But you knew you needed to have that inevitable conversation. You probably would never be able to look Steve in the eye after this.

You walked towards him as he was cleaning up his work station. “Fancy seeing you here” You cringed at your embarrassing attempt at a British accent.

“Hey there” He gave you a bashful smile scratching the back of his head “I didn’t expect to see you here”

“Right back at ya” you returned his smile, no longer feeling on edge. It was strange how his presence served to comfort you.

“You do this often” he asked casually. You couldn’t really hear any judgement in his tone, not what you would expect from a hundred year old.

“No not really. It just uh – I’m trying to love myself. Which I already do! Of course” you let out a nervous chuckle “just trying new things and stepping out of my comfort zone”

“That makes two of us” he said as he was done packing his bag, which he was deliberately doing at a slow pace. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Can I... Look at your painting?” You asked nervously. You didn’t know if you wanted to see his interpretation of your naked body, what if it was bad? But what if it was good? What if he was impressed by you...

“Uh it’s not done yet. And frankly I’m not that good”

“I seriously doubt that. I’ve seen the sketches in your office” You caught your slip of tongue. You couldn’t let him know about your borderline unhealthy obsession with him.

“Well, have a look then” he relented showing you his canvas.

You let out a breathe you didn’t even know you were holding at the painting. It was breath-taking. The woman looked like you, but why was she so beautiful and graceful? In the painting she was sitting on a stool, like you, in front of a tree admiring a rose in her hand. She was naked as well. It reminded you of classic Greek paintings where women weren’t perfect, but were celebrated for their imperfections.

“It’s amazing Steve. I – do I look like that?” You stammered not being able to tear your eyes off the painting.

He shook his head at your shock “On the contrary you look much better I’m glad you like it”

“You’re a great artist” you gushed

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen much better” he said humbly.

You would argue with him. But you knew it would be of no use. Looking at the beautiful woman in the painting gave you the surge of confidence you needed “Steve, does the offer for that dinner still stand?” You straightened your back looking up to lock eyes with him.

“Yes” He blurted without even thinking ��how about tomorrow evening?” He asked.

“Yes that will be awesome! You can pick me up at seven. I’ll text you the address“ you said making an mental note to do so.

You could hardly wait for your date. You didn’t really care about what your co-workers would think of you. As long as you were happy their opinions didn’t matter.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or send me an ask!

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

This was actually a request. But I can't fir the life of me find the person who requested it. I hope you see it babes❤

[kaile-hultner]

Nihilism is so easy, which is why we need to kill it

(I initially published this here a couple weeks ago.)

So last night it dawned on me that, after over two years of being relatively symptom-free, my depression snuck back up on me and has taken over. It’s still pretty mild in comparison to other times I’ve been stuck in the hole, but after 24 months (and more) of mostly being good to go, I can tell that it’s here for a hot minute again.

How do I know? Well, it might be the fact that I spent more time sleeping during my recent vacation from work than I did just about anything else, and how it’s suddenly really hard for me to stay awake during work hours. I don’t really have an appetite, and in fact nausea hits me frequently. I don’t really have any emotional reactions to things outside of tears, even when tears aren’t super appropriate to the situation (like watching someone play Outer Wilds for the first time). And I’ve been consuming a lot of apocalyptic media, to which the only response, emotional or otherwise, I can really muster is “dude same.”

For a long time I was huge into absurdist philosophy, because it felt to my depressed brain like just the right balance between straight up denying that things are bad (and thus we should fix them, or at least try to do so) and full-blown nihilism. This gives absurdism a lot of credit; mostly it’s just a loose set of spicy existentialist ideas and shit that sounds good on a sticker, like “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

In the last couple years, while outside of my depressive state, I went back to Camus’ work and found a lot of almost full-on abusive shit in it. Not toward anyone specifically, but shit like “nobody and nothing will care if you’re gone, so live out of spite of them all” rubs me the wrong way in retrospect. The philosophy Camus puts out opens the door for living in a very self-destructive fashion; that in fact the good life is living without care for yourself or anyone/anything else. The way Camus describes and derides suicide especially is grim as fuck, and certainly I would never recommend The Myth of Sisyphus to anyone currently struggling with ideation. That “perfect balance” between denial and nihilism is really not that perfect at all, and in fact skews much more heavily towards the latter.

Neon Genesis Evangelion has been a big albatross around my neck in terms of the media products I’ve consumed in my life that I believe have influenced my depression hardcore. It sits in a similar conversational space to Camus’ work, in that it confronts nihilism and at once rejects and facilitates it. A lot of folks remark that Evangelion is pretty unique – or at least uncommon – in its accurate portrayal of depression, especially for mid-90s anime properties. The thing I notice always seems to be missing in these discussions is that along with that accurate portrayal comes a spot-on – to me, at least – depiction of what depression does to resist being treated. This is a disease that uses a person’s rational faculties to suggest that nobody else could possibly understand their pain, and therefore there’s no use in getting better or moving forward. Shinji Ikari is as self-centered as Hideaki Anno is as I am when it comes to confronting the truth: there are paths out of this hole, but nobody else can take that step out but us, and part of our illness is that refusal to do just that. Depression lies, it provides a cold comfort to the sufferer, that there is no existence other than the one where we are in pain and there is no way out, so pull the blanket up over our head and go back to sleep.

Watching Evangelion for the first time corresponded with the onset of one of the worst depressive spirals I’ve ever been in, and so, much like the time I got a stomach virus at the same time that I ate Arby’s curly fries, I kind of can’t associate Evangelion with anything else. No matter what else it might signify, no matter what other meaning there is to derive from it, for me Eva is the Bad Feeling Anime™. Which is why, naturally, I had to binge all four of the Evangelion theatrical releases upon the release of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon A Time last month.

If Neon Genesis Evangelion and End of Evangelion are works produced by someone with untreated depression just fucking rawdogging existence, then the Eva movies are works produced by someone who has gone to therapy even just one fucking time. Whether that therapy is working or not is to be determined, but they have taken that step out of the hole and are able to believe that there is a possibility of living a depression-free life. The first 40 minutes or so of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 are perfect cinema to me. The world is destroyed but there is a way to bring it back. Restoration and existence is possible even when the surface of the planet might as well be the surface of the Moon. The only thing about this is, everyone has to be on board to help. Even though WILLE fired one of its special de-corefication devices into the ground to give the residents of Village 3 a chance at survival, the maintenance of this pocket ecosystem is actively their responsibility. There is no room or time for people who won’t actively contribute, won’t actively participate in making a better world from the ashes of the old.

There are a lot of essentialist claims and assumptions made by the film in this first act about how the body interacts with the social – the concept of disability itself just doesn’t seem to have made it into the ring of safety provided by Misato and the Wunder, which seems frankly wild to me, and women are almost singularly portrayed in traditionalist support roles while men are the doers and the fixers and the makers. I think it’s worth raising a skeptical eyebrow at this trad conservative “back to old ways” expression of the post-apocalypse wherever it comes up, just as it’s important to acknowledge where the movie pushes back on these themes, like when Toji (or possibly Kensuke) is telling Shinji that, despite all the hard work everyone is doing like farming and building, the village is far from self-sufficient and will likely always rely on provisions from the Wunder.

As idyllic as the setting is, it’s not the ideal. As Shinji emerges from his catatonia, Kensuke takes him around the village perimeter. It’s quiet, rural Japan as far as the eye can see, but everywhere there are contingencies; rationing means Kensuke can only catch one fish a week, all the entry points where flowing water comes into the radius of the de-corefication devices have to be checked for blockages because the water supply will run out. There is a looming possibility that the de-corefication machines could break or shut down at some point, and nobody knows what will happen when that happens. On the perimeter, lumbering, pilot-less and headless Eva units shuffle around; it is unknown whether they’re horrors endlessly biding their time or simply ghosts looking to reconnect to the ember of humanity on the other side of the wall. Survival is always an open question, and mutual aid is the expectation. Still: the apocalypse happened, and we’re still here. The question Village 3 answers is “what now?” We move on, we adapt.

Evangelion is still a work that does its level best to defy easy interpretation, but the modern version of the franchise has largely abandoned the nihilism that was at its core in the 90s version. It’s not just that Shinji no longer denies the world until the last possible second – it’s that he frequently actively reaches out and is frustrated by other people’s denials. He wants to connect, he wants to be social, but he’s also burdened with the idea that he’s only good to others if he’s useful, and he’s only useful if he pilots the Eva unit. This last movie separates him and what he is worth to others (and himself) from his agency in being an Eva pilot, finally. In doing so, he’s able to reconcile with nearly everyone in his life who he has harmed or who has hurt him, and create a world in which there is no Evangelion. While this ending is much more wishful thinking than one more grounded in the reality of the franchise – one that, say, focuses on the existence and possible flourishing of Village 3 and other settlements like it while keeping one eye on the precarious balancing act they’re all playing – it feels better than the ending of End of Eva, and even than the last two episodes of the original series.

I’m glad the nihilism in Evangelion is gone, for the most part. I’m glad that I didn’t spend roughly eight hours watching the Evamovies only to be met yet again with a message of “everything is pointless, fuck off and die.” Because I’ve been absorbing that sentiment a lot lately, from a lot of different sources, and it really just fuckin sucks to hear over and over again.

It is a truth we can’t easily ignore that the confluence of pandemic, climate change, authoritarian surge and capitalist decay has made shit miserable recently. But the spike in lamentations over the intractability of this mix of shit – the inevitability of our destruction, to put it in simpler terms – really is pissing me off. No one person is going to fix the world, that much is absolutely true, but if everyone just goes limp and decides to “123 not it” the apocalypse then everyone crying about how the world is fucked on Twitter will simply be adding to the opening bars of a self-fulfilling prophesy.

We can’t get in a mech to save the world but then, neither realistically could Shinji Ikari. What we can do looks a lot more like what’s being done in Village 3: people helping each other with limited resources wherever they can.

Last week, Hurricane Ida slammed into the Gulf Coast and churned there for hours – decimating Bayou communities in Louisiana and disrupting the supply chain extensively – before powering down and moving inland. Last night the powerful remnants of that storm tore through the Northeast, causing intense flooding. Areas not typically affected by hurricanes suddenly found themselves in a similar boat – pun not intended – to folks for whom hurricanes are simply a fact of life. There’s a once-in-a-millennium drought and heatwave ripping through the West Coast and hey – who can forget back in February when Oklahoma and Texas experienced -20 degree temperatures for several days in a row? All of this against the backdrop of a deadly and terrifying pandemic and worsening political climate. It’s genuinely scary! But there are things we can do.

First, if you’re in a weather disaster-prone area, get to know your local mutual aid organizations. Some of these groups might be official non-profits; one such group in the Louisiana area, for example, is Common Ground Relief. Check their social media accounts for updates on what to do and who needs help. If you’re not sure if there’s one in your area, check out groups like Mutual Aid Disaster Relief for that same information. Even if you’re not in a place that expects to see the immediate effects of climate change, you should still consider linking up with organizing groups in your area. Tenant unions, homeless organizations, safe injection sites and needle exchanges, immigrant rights groups, environmental activist orgs, reproductive health groups – all could use some help right now, in whatever capacity you might be able to provide it.

In none of these scenarios are we going to be the heroes of the story, and we shouldn’t view this kind of work in that way. But neither should we give into the nihilistic impulse to insist upon doing nothing, insist that inaction is the best course of action, and get back under the blankets for our final sleep. Kill that impulse in your head, and fuck, if you have to, simply just fucking wish for that better world. Then get out of bed and help make it happen.

[brother-hermes]

Are you willing to share your thoughts on sex outside of marriage? I am curious of your perspective as you’ve written before about celibacy. Would sexual immorality be considered any sex before marriage? Is it still considered adultery between two consenting adults if neither one of them is married? Or is it possible to have a divine union without a man made marriage certificate?

Wow. Straight up dangerous territory.

The King James Version took a harsh line on the term porneia- like they decided it was fornication without understanding Koine Greek. That variation of Greek is what the New Testament is written in. We now understand that porneia means harlotry- like adultery and incest- so we go with sexual immorality as a blanket term. This is a problem for traditional churches because it’s too open ended. As in, sexual immorality could be meaningless sex to multiple partners to one person and masturbating to pornography while in a committed relationship to another. It puts the passages regarding our sexuality in the field of the subjective opening it up to interpretation. Sprinkle in the NIV going with marital unfaithfulness or infidelity and it’s no wonder we have confusion.

The broader context of Pauls writing seems to define sexual immorality as anything outside of marriage. Women were bought at a dowry back then and were practically property too though. Some of the other writings suggest that one shouldn’t get involved with people outside of their Faith- a house divided and what not. It’s a very sticky subject.

I, being an abstract thinker, view the Bible as an allegory meant to be interpreted by the reader as a means of drawing us closer to the source of all being- to God. That being said, I view the Song Of Solomon and all of the Apostle Pauls writing on the union between men and women as spiritual instructions on unifying feminine and masculine energy within us. I’d probably confuse you attempting to explain that so it’ll be a later thing.

Sex is natural. We are all here because two people decided to share themselves with each other. The moral question comes into play when we ask ourselves why. Some people seek to release their frustrations into another or use them as objects. Some people use sex as a means to get things that they want. When we look at it in that perspective sexual immorality makes sense. We are taking something sacred- the ability to create life, the ability to join with another and share our very essence- and turning it into something meaningless. But… if it’s between two consenting adults planning a life together, then what immorality are we even talking about?

What does sexual immorality look like to you? That’s what I would ask myself. I would pray on why I want to explore my sexuality and discuss it with my partner. Then, I’d find someone who’s completely against it and hear why they have taken such a hard line on it. Read the passages yourself. Follow the notes that lead to other scriptures and dissect them. Whatever you do, just stay prayed up and don’t look at yourself with disgust for feeling a natural desire. Sex is completely normal and I loathe how some of us have been made to feel by our Christian upbringing.

Personally, I’m celibate because I haven’t overcome my own personal problems yet. I’ve been horribly codependent in the past and am overcoming a mountain of traumas. Until I’ve completely surrendered to God- and I mean 100% surrendered- I have no business projecting my insecurities onto anyone else. I don’t masturbate and watch pornography because it changes the way I view others. It’s hard, for me- I can’t speak on everyone, to look past the flesh of a person and see them for who they are if I’m constantly watching streams of perfectly shaped people airbrushed to perfection. It also clouds my spiritual practice and messes with my ability to concentrate- problems I’ve never had in relationships. So, I made a personal decision to serve God with mind, body and soul and await further instruction- getting therapy and working through traumas and meeting my spiritual director in the meantime. It’s a process, not a rigorous dogma I’d expect anyone to live up to.

Take away- what is sexual immorality? How would you define it? How will expressing yourself sexually add to your life? What would you be giving up? Pray on it and study the scriptures a bit. Just remember: SEX ISN’T SOME AWFUL THING.