#is there a subtext here? like?? i'm open to discuss.

[badhockeymom]

Cup Besties talking

It's about this ⤵

And this ⤴

Can't recommend this enough if you know any Finnish. They were veteran dad and rookie son, winning the most coveted prize in the hockey world, one to start off his NHL career, one to finally get the crown on his before retiring.

This is just the beginning of the roughly 1,5 hour conversation of Teuvo as a guest on Kimmo Timonen's and Antti Mäkinen's podcast. Teuvo's deadpan sarcasm and his subtle chuckles that soften his wry chirps and self-mockery work like a charm, sending his forty-something hosts into fits of laughter.

May be continued but let me put this out there first.

Kimmo: Our next guest hails from Helsinki. He's full 29 years old, but still has the face of a child. He goes by the nickname Turbo, which I don't understand, because he isn't that fast. A produce of the Jokerit, he has got, among other accolades, the Finnish rookie of the year award. From Jokerit, he went to Chicago, where we won the Stanley Cup together in 2015. Nowadays he plays for the Carolina Hurricanes alongside Sebastian Aho. Welcome, my good friend, Teuvo Teukka Teräväinen, to the Kimanttia podcast!

Teuvo: Thanks a lot, (chuckle) nice to be here even though you forced me to come.

Kimmo: (laugs) For your information, listeners, I've tried to goad Teukka for a guest appearance for two or three years, but he has always, always declined before now. It's good, it's great to hear your voice, man.

Antti (co-host Antti Mäkinen): I was so sure that Teuvo has been on the show but it's great that you're there now.

Teuvo: Yes, I always say to Kime that someday I'll come, and now I felt it's time.

Kimmo: Are you in Finland, Teukka?

Teuvo: Yes, a few days ago. I came straight to the cottage, it's nice to wind down for a few days here. Nothing special.

(They go on asking if Teuvo has watched the Worlds, he reminds the hosts that Canes were still playing when the games started.)

Kimmo: I wanted to ask, before we start going through your career, how long are you staying in Finland, and will you spend time at the cottage or do you have plans?

Teuvo: I usually head back to the States in the beginning of September, to settle down a little before the camp starts. In Finland, this summer will be quite busy, all my weekends are pretty much locked down, I have so many weddings and bachelor parties this summer.

Kimmo: Oh, you're getting married? I haven't got an invitation.

Teuvo: Yeah, multiple times. (Antti and Kimmo laugh) No, fortunately it isn't my wedding. They're nice events, but they do take up your time.

Kimmo: Yes they do, weekends come and go.

(Antti tells a story about a golf live stream during the covid lockdown, where Teuvo played against Patrik Laine. Both played well but in the end, Teuvo lost. He left the course with very few words, and after an half an hour, posted a pic of his golf bag on his Instagram story, captioned "Clubs for sale")

Teuvo: I remember that. It's what it is, it's never nice to lose.

Kimmo: (laughs) That sounds familiar because I've also sometimes played golf with Teukka, and the round has gone fine, and he says, I'm quitting this game.

Teuvo: Yeah... We've played tennis, too.

Antti: How do you do against him in tennis, can you hold your own?

Teuvo: Well, I don't think i've yet won Kime, at least on his home court.

Kimmo: Well now, there we heard the truth.

Teuvo: But now i have my own homecourt here at the cottage, you're welcome to challenge me here.

Kimmo: (softly) I must come over.

Teuvo: On my own court I haven't lost to anyone else but Henkka Kontinen who's a pretty good player. (Pro tennis player, doubles specialist, career high rank 1 in doubles)

Kimmo: Oh. I'll have to come and challenge you this summer.

Teuvo: You'll have to.

Antti: Hey, that guy is a professional at that tennis hobby of his, he does have an advance.

Teuvo: Or used to be, he hadn't been playing for a full year when he defeated me.

~~~

So, that's just the first five minutes.

A little extra treat from the next segment:

Kimmo: I did some research about your junior years, and it said you started on Helsingin Kojootit (Helsinki Coyotes). Where's Helsingin Kojootit?

Teuvo: It's -- in Helsinki. (chuckles.) Like it says, Helsingin Kojootit, how didn't you pick it up from the name?

(Laughter, Antti is dying)

[hyperlexichypatia]

This is a semi spinoff of this post, but really its own thought.

When a job pays less than a living wage, it generally attracts one of two types of employees:

Desperate people (usually poor and/or otherwise marginalized or with barriers to employment), who will take any job, no matter how bad, because they need the money, or

Independently wealthy people (usually well-off retirees, students being supported by their families, or women with well-off husbands*), who don't care about the pay scale because they don't need the money anyway.**

And sometimes, organizations will intentionally keep a job low-paying or non-paying with the deliberate intent of narrowing their pool to that second category.

People sometimes bring this up when discussing the salaries of elected officials -- yes, most politicians are paid more than most "regular people," but they're not paid enough to sustain the expensive lifestyle politicians have to maintain, and that's on purpose. It's not an oversight, and it's not primarily about cost-cutting. It's a deliberate barrier to ensure that only rich people can run for office.

The same is true, albeit to less severe effect, of unpaid internships -- the benefit of "hiring" an unpaid intern isn't (just) that you don't have to pay them; it's also that you can ensure that all your workers are rich, or at least middle-class.

When nonprofits brag about how little of their budget goes to "overhead" and "salaries", as if those terms were synonymous with "waste," what they're really saying is "All our employees are financially comfortable enough that they don't worry about being underpaid. Our staff has no socioeconomic diversity, and probably very little ethnic or cultural diversity." ***

This isn't a secret. I'm not blowing anything wide open here. People very openly admit that they think underpaid workers are better, because they're "not in it for the money." This is frequently cited as a reason, for example, that private school teachers are "better" than public school teachers -- they're paid less, so they're not "in it for the money," so they must be working out of the goodness of their hearts. I keep seeing these cursed ads for a pet-sitting service where the petsitters aren't paid, which is a selling point, because they're "not in it for the money."

"In it for the money" is the worst thing a worker could be, of course. Heaven forbid they be so greedy and entitled and selfish as to expect their full-time labor to enable them to pay for basic living expenses. I get this all the time as a public library worker, when I point out how underfunded and underpaid we are. "But... you're not doing it for the money, right?" And I'm supposed to laugh and say "No, no, I'd do it for free, of course!"

Except, see, I have these pesky little human needs, like food. And I can't get a cart full of groceries and explain to the cashier that I don't have any money, but I have just so much job satisfaction!

And it's gendered, of course it's gendered. The subtext of "But you're not doing it for the money, of course" is "But how much pin money do you really need, little lady? Doesn't your husband give you a proper allowance?"

Conceptually, it's just an extension of the upper-class cultural norm that "polite" (rich) people "don't talk about money" (because if you have to think about how much money you have or how much you need, you're insufficiently rich).

*Gendered language very much intentional.

**Disabled people are more likely to be in the first category (most disabled people are poor, and being disabled is expensive), but are usually talked about as if they're in the second category. We're told that disabled people sorting clothing for $1.03 an hour are "So happy to be here" and "Just want to be included," and it's not like they need the money, since, as we all know, disability benefits are ample and generous [heavy sarcasm].

***Unless, of course, they're a nonprofit whose "mission" involves "job placement," in which case what they're saying is "We exploit the poor and desperate people we're purporting to help." Either way, "We pay our employees like crap" is nothing to brag about.

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)

I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?

Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.

Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.

Here was my two cents contribution:

"No, what they said was factual.

Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?

Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.

In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.

He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.

Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.

But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.

Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.

But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.

In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.

I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.

In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.

But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.

Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.

At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .

During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."

He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.

So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt

P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.

LLAP!🖖💚

[david-talks-sw]

Woah there. Coming in a little hot. Take a step back, take stock, and chill. Even when we're discussing (read: "arguing") about stuff, it's Star Wars. It's a fictional universe. We're talking about movies and TV shows and comics aka... having fun.

(Which is advice that applies to me too, for the record)

That said, you trimmed out what I said, so I'll copy-paste it below (blue text) before expanding.

For context, someone said that (paraphrasing) the clones are referred to as “property of the Republic” by Shaak Ti in an argument with Nala Se regarding Fives and there is no rejoinder, so this acknowledgment of the clones being property of the Republic makes the Jedi complicit in their enslavement, as they partake in a flagrantly immoral command structure that sent slave soldiers to their deaths.

My response:

Tone and context are everything. There's an intonation on the word "property" when Shaak Ti says it. She isn't saying:

"Fives is property of the Republic."

She's saying:

"Correction! Technically, Fives is 'property' of the Republic."

She's taking Nala Se's cold, callous term and turning it around on Se with a technicality to score a point and pull rank, in order to save Fives' life. The subtext isn't "Fives is my slave," it's "you don't get to take this living being's life without my say-so."

Ti is regurgitating Nala Se's lingo to tell her to shut the fuck up.

In-universe, "there is no rejoinder" because Fives is aware of this subtext and knows Shaak Ti's in his corner. His life was on the line and Shaak Ti saved him.

Out-of-universe, "there is no rejoinder" because it's the ending of a 22-minute episode from a children's TV show 😃 and the point of the scene isn't to argue semantics about the ownership of the clones it's to save Fives' life. The beats of the scene can be boiled down to:

Nala Se argues fervently for Fives to die.

Shaak Ti is like "stfu no, I'm taking him to Coruscant"

Fives is grateful that Shaak Ti saved his life.

If the argument Nala Se used was, I dunno... "he must be terminated because the virus is contagious" then the beats of the scene would play out the same. Because again: the narrative, the story being told in this episode, ends with Shaak Ti coming in with the clutch and saving Fives.

The lore/sci-fi-ness of it all are mere details to move this children's story along.

You can read the rest of my response here, but since then, the user expanded on their point, explaining that while they acknowledge that Fives knows Shaak Ti's in his corner, what they meant is that there is no rejoinder from Nala Se. If it wasn't true that Fives was "property of the Republic", Nala Se would have said so in her cold and clinical terms.

Thus, for them, the point still stands.

And, uh, I'm not sure it does. Because the episode right before, Nala Se does counter Shaak Ti's argument by saying "nu-uh, the clones are property of the Kaminoans and we're leasing them to you."

So at some point, we either:

Point and go "IT'S A PLOT HOLE, BAD WRITING!" and acknowledge the point is thus moot.

Headcanon our way through this, theorizing that this point of semantics was argued by Shaak Ti and Nala Se and subsequently solved off-screen, in-between the two episodes. In which case, Shaak Ti's word on the subject is indeed final.

Acknowledge that this is a 22-minute story for kids, it was the end of the episode, and they needed Shaak Ti to come up with a technicality so as to save Fives without seeming unreasonable, and this is the best the writers could come up with.

I'm gonna go ahead and take option #3.

But, anon, this reaction of yours does open the door on a bigger point I've argued before.

All I did was bring proper context back to Shaak Ti's words, when they had been taken out of it.

And in discussion about the Jedi, this gets done very often. A sentence - or even words within one - will get plucked out of context and lore or fanon will form around it.

Here's some examples.

"Obi-Wan said that Anakin is pathetic!"

Context:

A pathetic life form.

He's comparing Anakin to Jar Jar, y'all.

AKA someone who had been exiled and was later about to be executed when they found him. AKA someone who has pathos, who inspires pity. Aka someone PATHETIC.

George himself describes Vader as pathetic.

That's because "pathetic" isn't just a judgmental term.

Resulting interpretation: Obi-Wan isn't saying Anakin is "ew, pathetic!" he's disagreeing with Qui-Gon's tendency to pick up strays and fails to see the point of them tagging along on the mission. He is proved wrong later and this ties in to his character arc about learning to see the value in listening to Guide archetype characters like Jar Jar or Ep. 1 Anakin.

"Yoda said the Jedi are arrogant."

Context:

Obi-Wan is bitching about Anakin being arrogant due to being so skillful, and Yoda tells Obi-Wan:

Resulting interpretation: Yoda is speaking in riddles, as per usual. He's being cheeky and implicitly telling Obi-Wan that he can be arrogant too sometimes, in his own Yoda-esque way.

Yoda is not "lamenting how far the Jedi have fallen". It's just another way of saying "we're all human, nobody's perfect."

"Mace said he doesn't trust Anakin."

Context:

Obi-Wan: “Anakin did not take to his assignment with much enthusiasm.” Mace: “It’s very dangerous putting them [Anakin & Palpatine] together. I don’t think the boy can handle it.”

Resulting interpretation: Anakin - not, by his own admission, the most subtle Jedi - is being asked to secretly spy on someone he considers a close friend, a mentor, a father even... aka someone who'll read Anakin like an open book (which is exactly what ends up happening).

Would you trust Anakin with that mission?

Because I sure as hell wouldn't. And that's what Mace is saying.

If it's "fucking disgusting" to point out the context in each of the above situations, during a Star Wars analysis or discussion, I fail to see why.

[kiefbowl]

so I just made a couple posts about this post, and rereading it I am going to try to be charitable as possible to everyone involved, but the vibe of this post really bothers me. but op deleted the post so I'm blocking out all the names out of respect for that, but I want to talk about this post

I think this is a very normal ask. It's literally just "hey, what are your opinions" and I don't see why that shouldn't be welcomed in a supposed feminist space. questions drive conversation, and not everyone is of the same opinion, life experiences, or knowledge, you know?

To be charitable to the green poster, they're just answering. I do think the "is literally the most anti-punk and anti-feminist thing you can do without genuinely hurting other people" is a bit much, and I also think she's misreading the op. I read Op as asking "if you're a feminist, what are some of your general opinions on subversive make up, and here's a list of examples: goth punk emo" and green is saying "conforming to patriarchy is never punk, and make up is patriarchal."

So I think the next response from Op shows that she took it a little personal as if being called out for doing the most "anti-feminist thing you can do without genuinely hurting people," which to be fair I'd probably be a little miffed too on a first read. And I think she's trying to pull out her question a little bit more, trying to re-contextualize it so that green gets what she actually meant. But this is a casual social media site so she's being casual and social. She's saying "okay, sure, but I'm asking about make up trends that are outside of what's commercialized" but I guess the big no-no is that she said "not male fantasy." Because yes, I ultimately agree, just because it's a more subversive culture, doesn't mean it's specifically feminist, or that the trends with-in aren't dictated to some degree by male fantasy. And then of course she asks: "If a woman wants to, isn't it regressive to say she can't?" So, to be fair to Op, she never specifically asked if make-up was specifically feminist or punk. But to be fair to green, green never specifically said a woman can't wear make-up.

But this is when it goes a little sideways, because frankly neither of them were being rude-rude. But green's next response is pretty rude imo. I think the subtext is "you're a big dummy." Op is not, and Op's first ask is what actually could be a very interesting jumping off point to discuss a variety of intersecting interests for feminists. Because I'm going to be real with you, there is no "The Answer" to make-up. Just because make-up and consumerism is never specifically feminist, doesn't mean it's always specifically anti-feminist. Sub cultures like Goth can be multiple things at once - subversive, and conforming. They also don't exist solely in one way. Copse make-up isn't feminist not because it's make-up, but because it's just make-up. But, like, yeah there's an element of subversiveness within western culture. There's also an element of acceptance, as long as it stays in the agreed on designated zones. A tee-shirt can't be feminist, either. Even if the tee-shirt says something feminist-y and subversive, like idk "I hate men and I love to abort their children" or w/e. Like okay, it's just a tee-shirt. And if you didn't make it yourself, it was probably made with slave labor, anyway. So you can wear it to the feminist poetry open mic at the local coffee shop, and you can wear it to a conservative's house, and the reactions in either place don't prove much about it's effectiveness. But it is a form of self expression, it's a form of participating in our culture(s) one way or another, and women are people they do participate. They can't not. So participating with some level of intention is better than her letting life passively happen around her. It's just not one thing, which makes it interesting.

So with all that being said, I think op's response is a sassy response to feeling like they're being spoken to rudely, which I think is fair enough.

This is not fair enough, and I find it bizarre. Maybe I missed something in another comment or post, but Op didn't 1. talk down to anyone and 2. didn't insult anyone who disagreed with them. But, to be charitable to pink - I understand why some women are on edge with the proliferation of troll accounts. But my ultimate advice to any women, young or old, trying to participate in a feminist space is to know that feminism is not a "solved" thing. Women have a variety of ways to think and approach a problem, and just because two ideas are conflicting doesn't mean they can't both have some merit. And since I think Op is a genuine person, this comes across as ostracizing a woman for asking a good natured, good willed question towards feminists to incite some discussion. A thing that should be welcomed if anything.

And then this response tries to be fair to Op, but also seems completely tone deaf to what she ever said. When in any of this exchange did Op ask for validation on anything? She admitted she is in a sub culture that both men and women use make up in, didn't specify what the subculture was, and then asked "hey, what are your opinions on this situation a little outside the norm of how we normally criticism make up." Then reacted to what one person's responses were, which the first response was simply direct but the second one was dismissive and rude.

So my point is, in order to be a successful feminist, I think you need to be able to navigate conversations with women that involve thinking outside the bun without devolving into sassiness when they aren't in complete lock step with you and have a predictable amount of curiosity. Feminism is a living discipline, and this could have been a moment of a meeting of the minds and a moment of cooperation to consider multiple sides of a question. That should be the ultimate goal.

And, to circle back to complete fairness of green's first response: when women are being direct with you, and maybe even misreading you a bit, it's worth taking a beat and thinking "can I read this in a kind tone at all? and if yes I'm going to assume that was the intention" because it can help get these conversations moving in the direction of cooperation rather than fighting.

And ultimately, have fun out there :)

[marmota-b]

Glitch IS meant to be Force sensitive, here's why

Clone Trooper Glitch Who Is Definitely Force Sensitive.

As far as I can tell, everyone has fallen in love with that idea and everyone is now saying "Glitch is Force sensitive and you can't convince me otherwise."

Listen, what if I can actually convince you he is, with literary analysis?

I don't think I've ever seen this particular angle discussed (not that I have looked too hard, but no one ever brings it up when talking about Glitch). Everyone just loves the idea that he's Force sensitive because it's a lovely / exciting idea. And, okay, it's never stated outright in the source material, so there's some room for doubt. (And it was obviously intentionally left open-ended.)

BUT

I think the subtext, for those who know what it is, is so thick it might as well be an open admission of authorial intent. You see, Glitch's comic, Defenders of the Lost Temple, is drawing heavily on the Knights of the Old Republic comics in its lore. The Gauntlet they're sent to recover comes from that series. The moon where it resides is named after one of the characters from the series and likely is the moon he moved to at the end of his arc, and there's a statue of him there. There are all these deliberate, easily proven links to the series.

And there's also the less direct but still present parallel of questioning whether Jedi should be fighting in a war at all - Knights of the Old Republic (comics) takes place at the beginning of the Mandalorian Wars when some Jedi went to fight and others argued that wasn't their place, and some people get caught in the conflict without ever wanting to. That's a more dubious connection, and may not have been deliberate, but...

That is - the writer knew what he was doing here, in relation to previously published material.

The main protagonist of that series is Zayne Carrick.

Zayne is a sort of off-beat Jedi (well, almost-Jedi). He is just about Force sensitive enough to be admitted to the Jedi Order. He has "a special relationship with the Force." His special relationship with the Force mainly manifests in him being very clumsy and having the worst sort of luck. No one really thinks he'll make it as a Jedi. His own fellow padawan friends don't think he'll make it as a Jedi. But he's so good and caring and trying. And in the long run, he learns to work with his bad luck, and it turns out it's not so much a bad luck as the Force working... as a sort of swing, around him, with a balance of good and bad events. Things rarely work out as expected, but he learns to expect the unexpected. And once he does, and learns to ride the waves instead of trying to swim against the current, it actually works mainly in the heroes' favour.

Does that remind you of anyone?

Yep.

I'm pretty sure Glitch is a deliberate callback to Zayne Carrick and his special relationship with the Force.

I don't know if he started out that way from the start, or if the idea of "what if a clone was Force sensitive" came first and this theme just slotted into place later (honestly, the latter is probably likelier). But it's undeniably there; with all the other references to KOTOR, it's unlikely the author would have missed the main protagonist's character arc re: Force sensitivity.

Glitch has a special relationship with the Force exactly like Zayne's. He just has, unlike Zayne, also the bad luck of never having been tested for Force sensitivity. (This is all EU/Legends. Don't expect New Canon to stick to any of the above.)

[kitsu-katsu]

I was talking with someone about just how canon the ineffable husbands are in good omens and I brought up how Gaiman said that what they have is canonically a love story (which is really reflected in the show, with their moments of vulnerability towards the other, their despair at the thought of losing one another, their comfort with eachother, the way they stick together through millennia even when they're never trying to, etc), but they don't have labels, as they don't have genders and the human conception of intimacy eludes them as ethereal beings that aren't human

And the complications with that

Because this person I was discussing with is not as versed in fandom discourse, and so they're only now finding the vocabulary of "queer baiting" to talk about that Sherlock show

And so they're like "I hope I see Crowley and Aziraphale absolutely eat eachother's mouths, it has to be canonized" and I'm standing here like. It is canon though. Like they won't add some "hetero romance" cop-out last minute. They are canonically in a love story. What's interesting is how the label-less queerness of it can also explore non-binary aspects and an aroace perspective on what "love" is

And they're bummed out because if they don't "absolutely eat eachother's mouths" it doesn't feel as canon to them. And I'm still standing here in aroace like. Bro. There are so many forms of relationships. A kiss on screen doesn't have to make it any more or less canon

But at the same time, from the amatonormative perspective, I get how the kiss on screen is seen as the end all be all. Because in general media, the main pairings will have the kiss at the end. And they will live happily ever after with that

Before the kiss it is only as canon as the kiss is predictable, and after the kiss, you can point to that one scene as "the moment it was canonized for realsies despite even people in the show making constant remarks about this being an obvious thing"

And I kinda hate it

I just wish the whole community wouldn't have to keep its guards up like this so much to discern whether something is coming from a genuine place of wanting to tell a story for a queer audience or about a queer subject or if it's all just a ploy to get our money, spit in our faces, smile at the traditional homophobic crowd and fund some conservative party with it

Because then we wouldn't have to play it by the boring straight rules. If everything points to it being obvious, then why is an intense kiss necessary? Why is it all you want? Why can't this represent a qpr? Or a loving relationship where intimacy in the form of a kiss just isn't something the characters want? Or a more open thing instead of being a purely monogamous arrangement? Or something completely new, a dynamic you can only describe in an essay lest you don't make their chemistry justice?

Aren't all of those just a much more under-thought about queer dynamics than what "I want these characters to kiss eachother until they can't remember their names on screen or else it isn't canon enough" can convey?

But at the same time, without something as concise and strong in media language, how do you make sure it won't all stay in just subtext and the reason it looks like clear text to you is because you're starved for queer stories and have become way too accustomed to reading between the lines?

I mean, it's also been proven to not be an absolute in instances where the text goes ham in letting you know what it's saying, when it's not implying, it is just telling. For one, Rose and Pearl in Steven Universe never did share a kiss on screen, and nevertheless we all know what was going on there

Idk, it's complicated and it's 1am, and this is all just a ramble, but I am in my aroace hating amatonormativity mood and the sentiment that characters being a canon thing without an explicit kiss bums someone out to the point they say "ok, ok, I get the whole nb ace ethereal beings that aren't human idea, but I want something more explicit because it doesn't feel canon enough" when that isn't strictly necessary for the story to get it across just got me in a weird mood and this is about so much more than good omens, I needed to try and word it out and might as well put it out there

Just. Why does queerness have to be allonormative and also amatonormative to be valid in the eyes of the queer masses necessarily? You'd think we'd figured out that queerness goes beyond just the L, G, B and binary T by now

[your-average-teenage-mess]

I really think Hair was the only big-name popular musical that actually made a radically political statement.

Like, don't get me wrong. There are famous musicals with political undertones (Hamilton, Hadestown, Chicago), there are musicals that love including a historical political movement in them without saying anything about its actual ideology (Les Miserables, Rent), there are musicals that really love using the esthetics of a revolution to look pretty and rebellious and have catchy songs (Moulin Rouge, Bad Cinderella, and, again, Rent), and there are musicals both deeply and textually discuss political subjects, but just don't really name them in a way that could make the audience uncomfortable (Cabaret, West Side Story) but... In all of them, the politics is either subtext, ignorable or both. This isn't to say that this makes a political musical invalid, but Hair is one of the only musicals that genuinely didn't play by those rules.

In the seventies, hippies weren't just an esthetic. They were deeply political. Their drugs were political, their sex was political, their disruption of the social order was deeply political. And so, when you start watching, it looks like it's gonna be an "esthetics of rebellion" kinda story, right? They're making a mess and having a party, woo-hoo! The politics are in the background, obviously, but it's mostly just gonna be because they're counterculture, right? It's just gonna be like Rent, except before Rent.

But then the movie doesn't try and neatly avoid that. The tribe will be openly anti-government in front of the tv, and then in front of their FRIEND, because the personal isn't apolitical, and he's better than the thing the country is trying to turn him into. ("Yeah, I'm ludicrous, I don't want you to go over there and murder women and shoot babies!") And in any other story about war, the scene where the audience is hearing how each solider was killed (Ripped open by metal explosion. Caught in barbed wire. Fireball.) would have served to remind the audience of how horrible wars are EvEn WhEn NeCeSsArY, but here it's just... You're allowed to just say, this isn't right. This is awful, and this shouldn't be, and we shouldn't do this.

And when Claude (or Berger, depending on the version) dies in Vietnam, because he literally could not survive war for his life, this isn't heroic. It solves nothing. He's just brought back home in a coffin, and his friends have nothing to do for his memory other than going to the protests, holding up their "drop acid, not bombs" signs, and... Hoping someone will listen, because that's all they have left to do if they want others to not be sent to meet the same fate he was.

I think that's about as politically radical as the mainstream musical scene ever got.

[starburstfloat]

Let's Talk Innuendos and Queer Subtext: TXT's Poppin' Star Lyrics Analysis

One of the joys of making progress in my Korean language journey has been the ability to analyze lyrics more critically by dissecting tone, word choice, or rhyme schemes that would have otherwise slipped by me a few years ago. And as someone who has a deep love for literary analysis and kpop, there's an unparalleled joy in getting to bridge the two together. I'm happy I have this space to do that. So without further ado, let's take a look at TXT's Poppin' Star from their first full-length album, The Dream Chapter: Magic (thank you nika for requesting this!).

This song feels like a sonic representation of this memefied image:

It's literally bubblegum pop at its finest. It sounds sparkly, cute, uplifting, and deceptively adorable, and anyone who has seen the choreography can attest to watching the video with a ridiculous smile on their face.

I could give high praise endlessly about this underrated early TXT Bside, but I wanted to prioritize the lyrics for this post! We're going to talk about the superficial meaning of the song before we dissect some of the more suggestive, metaphorical elements. Heads up I'll be mentioning sexual innuendos, so if that's not your cup of tea then please kindly leave.

My goal is to get you to see that, at the very least, this song is not just about eating candy. Whether or not we agree on the queer subtext is another debate, but I'm hoping this analysis post can be a lesson on interpreting figurative language and grasping inneundos.

Whenever I do analysis, I always start with the surface level face-value of what's being presented, and then I try to peel the layers and discern the underlying themes or suggested connotations based on context clues. Usually I leave out the initial face-value in my posts because it's something so obvious that it feels contradictory to present it. But it feels relevant to include for Poppin' Star. So what is the face-value meaning of the song when we look at the lyrics as a whole?

On the surface, this song appears to be about a young male protagonist who experiences a burst of emotions - dizzying warmth, sweetness, and a clouded brain - after he eats a variety of flavored candies. He states that he is not satisfied with the burst of flavor he's experiencing - now that he knows this intense feeling, he's craving more.

cr. color coded lyrics (though I'm cross referencing multiple translations and using my own knowledge of individual words and tonal conjugations to understand the song)

It doesn't take much of an analytical eye to catch the innuendo presented in Poppin' Star. What exactly is an innuendo? An innuendo is an allusive hint to something typically sexual. The keyword here is hint - it's something you pick up on based on subtly provocative language. Critics could argue that "your brain must be in the gutter" if you find sexual context where there is supposedly none. I'd say blaming the observer for a sexual interpretation is disrespectful to the art in question. Inneundos are meant to be spotted and discussed - they have the potential to heighten the art and unveil a greater message. Just because something is sexual does not mean it is bad.

Now that we have that cleared, it's pertinent to reflect on the surface value of the lyrics in contrast to the glaring inneundo jumping out at the audience. Let's look at the opening lyrics together:

One look at the lyrics, and you'll raise your eyebrows and go, "Really? You sampled a mouthful of candy and can't stop talking about how you're tingling all over, feel dizzy, and are melting from the sweetness?" The song's lyrics and language is quite figurative: the audience is guided to see beyond the literal meaning.

If we break down the individual feelings our protagonist shares, it sounds reminiscient of a first kiss or sexual experience. Considering how strongly the lyrics center on oral pleasure (oral as in the literal sense of the mouth), the rightfully assummed metaphor here is kissing. Let's look at all the instances where the song connects pleasure to the mouth:

별가루 가득 물면 느껴지는 불꽃놀이일까? / (Is this) fireworks that I feel when I bite a whole mouthful of stardust?

입 안을 채운 콕콕 따끔한 이 느낌은 또 / This tingling feeling that has filled my mouth

혀끝에 건전지 / A battery at the tip of my tongue

Our protagonist talks extensively about the pleasure in his mouth in correlation to feeling dizzy, warm, fuzzy, electrified, and excited - all feelings heavily associated with heightened sexual experiences, and notably kissing.

A striking detail is the fact that our protagonist is not alone during the story - he's actively talking to another person, meaning he's not literally eating candy by himself and getting an explosive sugar rush as the superficial interpretation insinuates. We notice this from the opening line which calls to a direct "you":

짜릿한 정전기 you’re popping star / Electrifying static, you're popping star.

Not only is this a reference to the title, making it an important detail to note, but it's also inviting the audience into acknowledging the relevant prescence of another character, some unnamed you. He goes on to say:

머리가 띵하게 기분 좋은 my love / Making my head feel dizzy, that good feeling, my love

He's directly saying "my love," so this person is clearly special to him. This person is his popping star - someone who evokes all of these explosive, tingling feelings.

The chorus is riddled with suggestive language: "This isn't enough / I need something stronger / A chew full of lemon, lime, orange, yeah / I need more, more, more / A stronger popping / A chew full of lemon, lime, orange, yeah"

Our protagonist is craving more flavor as he seeks a pleasure high. My interpretation is that the other character is wearing flavored chaptstick, perhaps fruit-flavored or candy-flavored, and our protagonist wants to taste more of the character's lips. Another interpretation is that they're both chewing on flavored gum, and when they kiss, the flavors blend together in a satisfying burst. Both feel plausible to me. The chorus suggests a kiss through the explosive repetition of surprised "oh's" that the members sing. It's hard to explain without hearing it, so skip to 0:48 in the song to catch what I mean. The explosive instrumental paired with the high-pitched oh's feels representative of an epiphany, or at least a heightened emotional state.

Perhaps one of the most glaringly suggestive parts of the song is Beomgyu's line after the first chorus, where he says:

잠깐 쉬어갈 땐 slime vacation / When (I) take a short break, slime vacation

This implies he's taking a break from exchanging slime, or saliva, with the aforementioned "you". Keep in mind that Korean sentences don't always need an explicit subject, so it's unclear whether Beomgyu is saying "When I take a short break" or "When we take a short break". However, later in the song, during a critical moment that I'll get to shortly, Yeonjun explicitly mentions the pronoun 우리 (we/us) which means we can assume this whole candy-tasting fiasco is, at the very least, a pleasure-seeking high that our protagonist is doing with someone by his side.

The kissing metaphor is more strongly suggested when Taehyun says:

어제 했던 건 벌써 지루해 / The things that (I did/were done) yesterday are already boring

더 더 더 강한 popping이 필요해 / I need a stronger popping

which tells me the song is self-aware enough to recognize it's not just about eating candy. Why would yesterday's candy be described as "the things that were done yesterday"? I also find it interesting that he's using the verb 지루하다 instead of 심심하다 when mentioning boredom. Both of these verbs mean "to be bored", but 심심하다 refers to boredom through a lack of action, whereas 지루하다 has the connotation of being bored by something because you've been doing it for a prolonged time; as in, you're getting physically tired of it. So, Taehyun is saying that the stuff he did yesterday has become repetitive and tiring, and he's now seeking a stronger high. Very suggestive language.

There's a line from Heuningkai that really stands out towards the latter half of the song. He goes:

가��은 조금 위험해도 돼 / Sometimes it can be a little dangerous

엄마 몰래 자물쇠를 열어봐 / Open the lock without my mom knowing

The conjugation here is very interesting!! He uses the 아/어도 되다 pattern at the end of the adjective for "dangerous", which is a conjugation used to give permission for something. So, rather than him stating the fact that it's dangerous, he's giving permission to the speaker to be a little dangerous. It's a subtle nod at him approving risky behavior, so perhaps a better translation would be "it's alright if sometimes it's a bit dangerous".

"Open the lock" reminds me of Soobin's verse in Sugar Rush Ride:

, which I interpret as a more blatantly sexual inneundo for losing one's virginity. I don't think Poppin Star implies more than kissing, but asking someone to open your lock without your mom knowing, and engaging in risky behavior, appears symbolic to doing something you wouldn't want your mom to see, so at the very least it's suggestive language.

This interpretation aligns with the direct album overview provided by Bighit, which states that "The Dream Chapter: MAGIC tells the story of 'magical adventures' that boys encounter together with their friends [...] the boys share their transformation, confusion and exploding emotions that arise during their transition to adolescence." Notice that the official statement itself says that the album centers on a boy and his friends as they transition into adolescence. Interesting.

I'd be happy to leave the analysis there and say, "See? The song is clearly an innuendo", but then the writers toss in the gayest shit during the last third of the song that forces the audience to pause and reinterpret.

Yeonjun and Taehyun sing the following lines:

이건 어쩌면 나라에서 허락한 / Maybe this is something that the country has allowed

우리끼리만 숨겨둔 유일한 / Something we have kept hidden just among us

자 아무에게나 허락된 게 아냐 / Alright, it's not allowed to just anyone

입안 가득 터뜨려 / Burst a mouthful

The verb used here is 허락하다 which means to allow, permit, or approve. Talking about what your country allows in connotation to something you've kept hidden among the two of you…feels queer-coded. Especially when the rest of the song has been dedicated to pursuing a thrill from "my love", a pursuit which they acknowledge is intimately private given the line "without my mom knowing". Why bring up what's allowed in your country in a song that centers on a boy seeking pleasure? The last line is odd too - it's conjugated as a command, so our protagonist is telling us, the audience, that we should pop a mouthful of the candy too. In connection to the line above it, it's implied that he knows popping the candy aka kissing his love is not allowed for everyone, but he's encouraging others to try. Adding to the intrigue is the fact that they repeat the last two lines again, but change the command to 입안 가득 터뜨려 봐 which is a less forceful command and more like "Give it a try".

If the song truly were just about candy, talking about what your country allows and who is allowed to do it feels very out of place and strange. This, paired with the striking fixation on oral pleasure makes me believe the song is about a boy kissing his friend, and it's been a fun, exciting little secret between the two of them.

It doesn't feel like an exaggeration to find queer subtext here. If you're an avid TXT fan, you'll know their songs are very queer-coded, from 0x1=lovesong having the most blatant thematic connection (I still regularly think about Soobin's "I can't go to heaven, I don't belong there" line) alongside Sugar Rush Ride, which suggests we "swallow the sugar rush"....sir, swallow what exactly??!

I hope this could spark your interest and see the lyrics from a new perspective. Sorry not sorry if this burst your innocent perception of the song...like I said, it sounds deceptively adorable 😂 let me know your thoughts and thanks for reading!

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 5

Co-written with @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction my beloved Fen, who I could not do this without. Thank you for being my emotional sounding board, my dear friend, my wonderful cowriter and helpful beta reader. I adore you.

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia

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Summary: Javier, Candy, and Santi kiss and make up. Except Javi and Santi don't kiss. Yet.

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it. Covert/emotional incest in the past, Santi's mommy issues, m/m dynamics, internalized bi/homophobia

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and has hair. I've decided Candy is just latina bc she's a sex worker in Colombia so this is what I'm doing. Reader also has curly hair and dark skin.

ADDITIONAL WARNINGS!: Santi's panicy trauma response. Nothing crazy he just needs Javi to like him so so bad. Food and eating. SMUT! Fingering, reach around hand job, multiple orgasms, edging, praising, talking you through it, talking HIM through it, more hints at homoerotic subtext.

Thank you as always to my beloved Fen <3 I couldn't do this without your encouragement.

2.5 words

A/N Since I am apparently an incomprehensible writer, please know that the lst smut scene here is not a threesome, it's Javi fingering Candy and Candy flashing back to her giving Santi a reach around handjob. I wanted to compare and contrast the way the two pairs care for and pleasure each other. but it came across as a threesome :(

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******************************

Santi and Javier had been working in total silence for 4 hours.

As soon as Javi had walked in, Santiago looked up from his paperwork with his large eyes attempting to catch Javier’s but to no avail. Javi ignored him, and continued to ignore him most of the day. He felt bad, he really did, and he missed his friend. It was hard sitting across two desks pushed together, and seeing Santiago right there looking so sad was difficult. Santi was fidgety, unfocused, obviously not paying attention to his work. He’d stare at a page for ages, knee bouncing almost in time to his tapping finger. The boy was going to drive him insane.

Noon hit, and Javi went to lunch, walking down the street to a cart to grab a empañanda. Fuck it, some churros too. His doctor said he needed to start watching his sweets, but it’d been a week. He’d burn off some calories with someone tonight. Not wanting to go back to the office during his lunch hour, Javier walked a few blocks to a small park and parked himself under a tree for some shade as he stuffed his face.

Javier tried to pinpoint exactly what had made him so angry at his young coworker. Maybe part of it is the betrayal. Santi went through his things, his contact information and found one of his girls. His. Candy was his. Javier Peña took pride in protecting his girls, whether or not they were his informants. Helena’s attack had scarred him, the image of her beaten and naked body was something that kept him awake at night. He couldn’t let that happen to Candy. Javi had tried to check in on Helena, knowing the DEA had gotten her a visa to the US, but she wanted no contact with him. Maybe it was the fact: if Santi found his contact information for his girls, and that meant that anyone could. What if it had been a drug lord? Lorea knew the DEA was after him next, what if they had found Candy and brutally raped her like Helena, or killed her?

Javier flicked an ant off his arm.

Maybe it was the fact it felt like he didn’t really know Santi. He called him Pope as a nickname, a call to his church going, the way he was nearly a blushing virgin, he always avoided his eye with topics of sex. The young, naive kid he knew was soliciting prostitutes? It was hard to justify the two pictures in his head. 

Maybe it was the fact it was Candy. Candy of all people. Candy was special to him, a favorite and someone he enjoyed seeing even outside of sex. 

Or maybe it was that fact it was Santi. His partner, his friend, someone he trusted with his very life and liked working with.

He knew both of them, he knew they would connect. He knew they would enjoy each other's company, he knew they’d treat each other well… How could Candy not want someone like Pope? Some as good as Santiago, as kind, as attractive…

Shaking the thoughts away, Peña gathered up his trash, shoved the rest of his churro in his mouth and returned to the pulpit to sit in silence for another 4 hours. Then he saw Santi.

For the first time that day, Javier got a good look at him when he stepped under the arch of the open doorway and watched the boy as he acted, thinking he wasn’t watched.

Santiago was a fucking mess. He had bags under his eyes, his normally well dressed and ironed shirt was wrinkled and it was evident Santi had not shaved since the start of the weekend a few days ago. Santi’s face was always well groomed, a trim, neat mustache surrounded by freshly shaven cheeks and neck showing off his youthful skin; now he looked older. Tired. Worn out. He hadn’t even worn a tie. Nervous ticks were all over him, but what got Javier was that Santi hadn’t moved. 

He hadn’t eaten yet.

All his anger at Santiago melted away, and Javier felt sorry for him.

*

“Haven't you had enough calories today, Peña?” The lady at the food cart said. 

Javier rolled his eyes as he paid the money. “It’s not for me.”

She glanced at his stomach; it was not as flat as it used to be, that’s for sure. “Sure.”

As Javier approached the open door of their shared office again, he made sure to squeak his shoes so Santi knew he was coming before he rounded the corner. 

Without looking up, Santi muttered his first words of the day. “You’re late. Your lunch is only an hour, you know that right?”

“I took part of yours, since you didn’t go.”

Santi muttered something about actually doing his work, but Javi knew today had been Santi’s least productive day since starting. He tossed the brown paper on Santi's desk, and at first Santi begins to complain about the grease on his paperwork, but then he opens the bag.

“What’s this?”

“Your lunch.”

Santi looked up to him, his endearing youth still evident despite the disheveled appearance. “You brought me lunch?”

Javi tried to wave him off as he sat down. “Don’t worry about it.”

The younger man stared up at him, mouth hesitating as if he wanted to say something, but then stopping, then starting, then stopping, then- “I’m sorry!” The words begin spilling out of him. “I’m sorry I went through your things, I really really am! I just didn’t want someone random and-

He raised a hand to stop him. “Garcia, stop. Listen…” He shook his hand and leaned against his desk. Santi looked up at him, desperate and wide-eyed, mouth parted. “She was right. I can’t control her… or you. It’s none of my business who you see…” Javi clears his throat. “And you are still seeing her?”

Santiago stood up, frantic still. Javier wasn’t into weed, but he thought Santi needed to have a smoke. “I’ll stop! Just say the word and I’ll stop!”

“No, Garcia, I get it. I know how it is with her, she’s special. Candy’s important.”

“Not as important as you!”

Santiago’s sudden admission shocked Javier. What did he mean by that? Did he mean… no, Santi wasn't like that, right? “What are you talking about?”

“I mean…” His excited edge gave way to anxiety. “I just mean, we’re friends, right? Partners. We have a good thing going right now and I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Oh. “I see.” He couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. “Yeah, we do have a good thing going. Let’s just drop it, alright? I doubt Candy will schedule us on the same day again. We can just pretend it didn’t happen.”

Javier was already moving to sit at his desk as Santi eagerly agreed. “Yes! I- uh, I mean, yeah, perfect.”

Javi snickered a bit. They sat in silence for a moment before Javier decided to bring it up just one more time… “Just… be careful, alright? And treat her good?”

“I do.” Santi was quick to assure. “And I’ll be careful.”

*

The knock on your door made you immediately nervous. No one just showed up, except Señora Perez bringing leftovers for you… when you peaked through the peephole and saw a nervous looking Javi, you sigh. Dumbass. Annoying dumbass. Annoying dumb who fucked really well and was actually super sweet and you enjoyed his company most days… 

“I know you’re home, Candy.” Of course he did. 

You open the door, immediately crossing your arms and leaning against the door frame. “What do you want? Santi isn’t here.”

“I know.” He assured you, then held out a rolled up, large poster. “I wanted to…” Apologize? Javi didn’t say he was sorry. Wasn’t the type. “I brought you this.” He held out the rolled up paper.

Tentatively, Javier held out his gift, which you took suspiciously. It was the Audrey Heffburn poster he promised you. “Javi… I thought you’d throw it away after how I yelled at you…” You were touched at how he thought of you, bringing you posters of artists he knew you loved to liven up your apartment.

“Never, querida.” He promised. “And I’m sorry for making a scene in your home, in front of your neighbors.”

You smile softly, relaxing a bit. He was so kind, so handsome… “I forgive you, just mind your business next time, comprende?”

“Comprendo, Candy.”

Your body language eased. “You and Santi kiss and make up?”

Javier couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “Si, minus the kissing.”

“You’ll get there.” You wink, and make enough room in the doorway. “You wanna come in?”

Of course he did. He always did. And you always wanted him to. 

*

Javi spread you open. After he sat you on his lap, you wrapped your legs around him and as he spread his legs, yours went with it. It was tender, the way he touched you, calloused fingers running the length of your body and taking you apart on his fingers. Whiskers tickled your neck as he nudged, fingers entering you. Filling you. Taking you. You were his.

And Santi was yours.

You played with Santi’s body, controlled it the way Javi controlled you. From behind. He liked it between your legs, that much was obvious. His hands, his cock, his face. He belongs there. Earlier today he had sat there, his ass between your naked legs with your back to your bed frame, Santi’s back to yours. He felt so good like this, his body firm and young and supple in your grasp and god, you loved having him. It’s no wonder Javi loved taking you like this, on his lap.

Javi liked you on his lap, liked you open for him. Your whole body. He loved to feel you clench around him, himself fully dressed and while you were completely naked.

It was different with Santi. Both of you lay bare as you jerked him off. It was vulnerable this way, both of you naked and open to each other. Santi was so vulnerable… you wanted to protect his sweet little heart, to take care of him, hear him whimper and whine just as he did now as you tease him.

You wanted Javier to devour you, to take you fully and leave nothing left, you needed to be consumed by him… and consume you he did. Javi’s mouth left nowhere untraced, your shoulders, your back, your neck, it was all sopping wet with his sloppy kisses, long fingers pumping into you.

Your fingers wrapped around Santi’s cock, swiping over the slit dripping with pre-cum in his excitement for you… That excitement excited you in turn, his enthusiasm to be explored and used… and you were grateful for him. You let him know it.

“Pretty boy, being so fucking good for me.”

“Pretty girl, being so fucking good for me.” Javier praised when you don’t cry out at the little nibble he took at your throat as he applied pressure to your clit. He knew just how to tease you, to build you up so high that your crash would be blinding. “Not yet, baby,” He coaxes you.

“Not yet baby,” You coo at Santi, tightening the base of his cock to stop his orgasm. “Can you wait just a little longer please? I want you to cum so hard, Santiago, want you to fucking explode on my hand.”

“Y-yes,” he agrees, breathy and desperate but so, so good. He was your good boy. “I can do it, Candy, I can.”

You felt up his chest, his pecs, his tight and perfect body as you jerk him. “I know you can, Santi.”

“I know you can, Candy.” Javi growls in your ear, stubble scratching at your face. “Give me one more.”

You whine, over sensitive from two orgasms on his mouth, but no less hungry for another, no less desperate for the sweet release on Javier’s fingers.

“S’too much!” Santi’s hips thrust into yours, his body beginning to writhe just as you had in Javi’s. 

“It’s okay, baby, you can do it.” You coo at Santi just as Javi coos at you. Then, you both give your command. “Come for me.”

Your orgasm was blinding, clenching down on Javi so hard you weren’t sure how he could move his fingers, cum dripping out of you and onto your shitty plywood floor.

“Oh, good girl,” Javi praises. “Just feeling that pussy cum, I know it must feel so good, doesn’t it?”

“Feel’s so good, doesn’t it?” After half an hour of edging, Santi cums so hard he choked a sob out and you have to keep one arm wrapped around his slim body to keep him steady. Rops of warm cum spill out of him, covering your hand.

Javier licked his fingers clean of your um. Without so much as a care to his own erection in his jeans, he picks you up and carries you to your bed. You’re sleepy… Why were you so sleepy? Javi didn’t need to ask, finding a night dress and pulling in over you on the bed.

“Javi, let me take care of you.” You ask, tiredly. He simply gets a warm cloth to clean you up.

Sliding out from behind Santi, you make sure to place plenty of pillows under him as he relaxes back. You wash off his cock, then get in the blankets with him. 

“What about you?” He asks, soft and sweet and so, so sleepy, his fingers going to the band of your pants, but you stop him.

“Sleep, precious boy.”

“Sleep, baby.” Javi kissed your forehead.

“But you didn’t even get off! C’mon, I’ll just hang my head off the bed-” You’re mostly teasing, smiling up at Javier and giggling, but he stops you.

“Rest.” It’s firmer now. “Consider this an apology.”

“Well can my apology also include you cuddling me.”

Javier smiled at that. “If you insist.”

You laid with Santi as he took a short siesta, finishing his time napping in your bed with you around him, your fingers trailing his perfect body, taking inventory  of every scar. He sure had a lot of burns on his arms for a career military boy. Maybe he was a cook in high school. Good boy like him would get a part time job… so responsible. You hoped you were able to help him let go of that responsibility, if only for a little. He deserved to be wild sometimes, even if he had a lot to learn.

Javi held you until you fell asleep, remaining fully clothed and fully closed off to you. When you woke, he was gone and to your relief, he didn’t try to pay you, outside of the poster he hung up for you. 

It was the first time you two had done anything that wasn’t transactional.

**************************

Thank you all for your patience, I was, WOW I WAS GOING THROUGH IT LMFAO IT WAS BAD. So I appreciate your patience as I get this out. You probably will not see anything from my as far as fics for like 2 weeks until finals are over since I am writing a fuck ton of essays. HMU in two weeks if you wanna learn about Aimee Semple McPherson or the satanic panic bc i gotta write a min 12 pages on EACH.

Anyway, until then, happy holidays! I hope you all have a wonderful and safe season celebrating any of the variety out there, or just enjoying time off, seeing family, or winter activities!

If you are in any of the horrifically dangerous areas in the world right now, know I am praying for you, and I hope you are safe.

Thank you to Fen, to Mona, to Clem, and all the people in the Oscars House Of Whores discord and the Pedro Pals discord for encouraging my insanity with these three!!! I really love the dynamics before Santi Javi and Candy and love writing this story, even if it takes me forever.

Since I like doing polls....

@runa-falls@lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbo @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleurs @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleitte @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant @nanfafnan @kirsteng42 @mrsjavierp @nanfafnan @lovable-liar @axshadows @cookielovesbook-akie

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Syd and Carmy- A Lover's Quarrel

This meta focuses on the Sexy Complications that I mentioned in a meta called Romantic Beats. I will focus on the clash between Syd and Carmy and what makes their conflicts so compelling to watch on screen.

Truth be told, I get fired up watching Carmy and Syd argue. They're like the turning point between all the other conflicts on the show.

Maybe it's because Carmy really zooms in and focuses on Syd when he's ready to fight?

Or the blocking- which has been covered before in the sydcarmy ship.

Maybe it's how Sydney goes toe toe-to-toe with Carmy if she needs to, but she's the only one to calm him down and snap him out of his patterns.

I think it's all the above.

In screenwriting- how you write arguments it's big on subtext. What I love about Syd and Carmy's arguments- in season 2- is that they're equals, and the truth of what they're really fighting about is starting to reach a boiling point. So what is the argument really about between Carmy and Syd?

2x03 Sundae Carmy turns to Syd once he hears she's not pleased with the changes. He suddenly walks towards her- why is he so close? The argument is about miscommunication and how Sydney feels left out of their process to open The Bear- whereas Carmy thinks they're still fine; they're just as close as they were before. But the blocking- Syd steps away- hinting that this should be a private discussion with Carmy. He's taking her dissatisfaction with the wall literally, and while deep down- Syd is saying- hey, I'm feeling unsure and I'm scared- you gave me all the reason to doubt you today. Please don't give me a reason not to trust you. Once she gives him the solution, Carmy only understands what Syd means- you let me know. But his inner conflict was early that day. Carmy's conflict lies in this dilemma of what it means to be closer to someone- to let someone in and what makes a good relationship. Keep in mind he shut out many people when he was in New York, and now, since Mikey, he has this opportunity to experience a deeper relationship. But that entails being present, making the person happy, and expressing his love without past hurts. He wants love to be fun and joyful. But he needs to figure out how to get there. He's telling Sydney- hey, I'm scared too; this is new to me, and I don't know how to do it because past hurts are showing up for me again. This feels complicated. I'm supposed to be doing this thing with Mikey and it only hurts it's not fun for me. but here you are and I'm also experiencing different emotions I've never felt before and I don't know how to handle it.

Sidebar: The way Fak walks away in the left gif- like he just knows some shit is about to go down between them and the stares from Marcus and Richie (while Fak looks away). So I'm one of many entranced by their arguments?

2. 2x05 Pop

I love that Claire said the errand was anti-climatic- really, the romance between them is anti-climatic (thanks to @currymanganese edit). The climactic moment happens at the end when Syd and Carmy almost argue- something Carmy clearly wants to do with Sydney. But he's mad at himself more than anything. Sydney says you're dismissing me and you weren't there, and I feel alone here. Carmy is saying I know I'm at fault here, I know it's on me- but I'm still here, right? I just want to experience something different this time- and that may get in the way, but I'm still here.

2. 2x08 Bolognese Sydney and Carmy are arguing about Claire going over the menu. But it's about trust, Carmys wanting a better experience with all the trauma he's faced, and this person who's in between their relationship. Someone he doesn't call a girlfriend creates a wedge and steps in where she shouldn't. Carmy and cannolis isn't the issue- it's an important part of his life that he should have shared with Sydney. Sydney is saying this is something you should have shared with me. You're leaving me out again. You won't let me in.

4. 2x10 The Bear

The boiling point of season 2. Carmy is triggered when he thinks he sees his EMP boss. When he returns to the kitchen, he sees the cold dead fish(is there subtext here?) and lashes out at Sydney.

This isn't about the expo station or the cold fish. It's fear that tips over for Carmy. Carmy is back in a cycle he does not want to be in. Carmy is saying, " I'm scared. I've been here before and don't want to do it again. I'm back in this stressful feeling of being in that kitchen. His kitchen. This needs to be perfect.

Sydney is clear in this argument. He was not there. Something Carmy needs to hear.

The conflict lies in Carmy getting out of his old ways so he can build a healthy relationship with Sydney- whereas Sydney has to learn trust and let go and fall so Carmy can catch her- Sydney has to be patient with Carmy's past experience, and Carmy has to learn how to be there for someone, how to know and be close to Sydney.

A well-crafted argument can change the whole dynamic of a relationship. The impending big fight is covered on this sydcarmy ship a few times, but I just wanted to point out how excited I am with the inner conflict in Carmy and Syd's dynamic.

Sooner or later- the truth boils over in arguments between two characters. Will this argument continue to reveal what Syd and Carmy are scared of- will the arguments draw understanding and closeness?

Bring it on season 3!

[ewingstan]

Philosophy ask: You've already done Sophia and DM so how about either Lung or Coil?

(only if you feel like it ofc)

SEND ME A WILDBOW CHARACTER YOU LOVE. I WILL TELL YOU WHICH PHILOSOPHICAL THOUGHT EXPERIMENT YOU SHOULD GET REALLY OPINIONATED ABOUT (SLASH DEVELOP A PSYCHOSEXUAL FIXATION ON)

(Note: Please let me know which side of that slash you're asking for. Going forwards, I'm gonna avoid answering in terms of the psychosexual part of that prompt unless its specifically asked for/alluded to. Though if you leave your ask unspecified, I reserve the right to include underlying subtext.)

You're in luck, as I've started reading Robert Kane's The Complex Tapestry of Free Will, which has enough obvious allusions to worm that it should really be considered a derivative work. Crucially for us, it also discusses a lot of different thought experiments.

For Lung, I'd recommend checking out Austin's nervous golfer. I'm not familiar with J.L. Austin's original article, but this and other "Austin-style cases" are used by Kane as examples of how we can perform actions that weren't the only things we could have done, without saying we acted through our free will.

I can see where it went wrong so clearly. Each time, each minuscule error, too small to call a mistake. The world where I acted that much faster—where I knocked that fucking can of pepperspray out of her hand before she could use it—it feels close enough to touch. But I'm living here, in the sum of small errors, in the ruins of my empire.

For Coil, you'd of course want to look into Borges' Garden of Forking Paths.

You all consider yourselves the masters of your lives, free to walk any path you choose. But we're all walled in, by the needs and the limits of our bodies, by the threats of violence from our fellows. Cramped. Restrained. Frightened. "At least we rule ourselves," you think. "At least I decide which paths to walk between those few life offers me." You think that because you're a fool. You don't realize that you are not the master of your fate; Fate has mastered you, and no matter how many paths looked open there was only one that you would follow.

I am not bound as you are. I can run down different paths at full tilt, picking between them at my leisure. I can force you along with me, tumbling you out of the confines of your singular deterministic route. In that way, I've mastered both my fate and yours. In that way, I've mastered you.

[haru-sen]

Through the Gates of Horn and Oak

Caught the BG3 Brain Rot AND a deep love of the tieflings, hithero referred to as "my cabbages!" No, seriously, I've been screaming about them like the guy from ATLA.

Anyway, WIP preview, playing with some Tav X Zevlor, which will eventually be some Zevlor X Halsin, and maybe some poly dynamics. Look, I just want to poke sad old men with a stick and then feed them cheese.

This preview has light spoilers for early Act I side quests. I have not beat the game, I'm still in Act 3, so please be mindful of spoilers. This is spicy but not explicit.

“How do you do it?” you grumbled, perched on a crate and resting your forehead on the cool stone table, your eyes closing as you reviewed your day. “From harpies, to bugbear assassins, to evil druid-controlled child-tormenting serpents, how do you keep these people alive? I mean, honestly, Zevlor, I’ve only been at it for like a day, and I’m exhausted.”

Zevlor, the tiefling-wrangler in question, gave a dry humorless laugh. “You assumed it was easy?”

“No,” you muttered. “I’m just gobsmacked by the sheer variety of ways they get into trouble. You have my deepest respect and my most heartfelt sympathies.” You stayed facedown while you spoke, which might have detracted from the authenticity of the delivery, but alas.

About a meter away, Tilses snorted. “Have you met Mol yet?”

“Have I met Mol?” you laughed, and it might have been a sob. “Have I met the future legendary patron of the Thieves Guild, you mean? Have I met a force of chaos constrained in a tiny tief package? Have I counted my purse half a dozen times today? Where do I even start?”

Zevlor groaned, clearly not interested in delving into that subject.

Tilses laughed. “You should have seen the time she-”

“Tilses, it’s getting late: you don’t have to stay,” Zevlor said.

“But-”

“Tilses, it’s getting late: you’re dismissed.”

You didn’t need to use your illithid powers to read the subtext in the room. Small talk aside, Tilses didn’t want to leave Zevlor alone with an outsider. Zevlor, however, didn’t seem worried. It could be that he thought you were trustworthy, but it was more likely that he knew that it didn’t matter if she was here. If you decided to turn on him, her presence wouldn’t make a bit of difference.

You could picture his expression easily, that no-nonsense frown, accentuated by the severity of his hellfire eyes and sharp ridged bones. He wasn’t exactly scary, but he had a quiet dignified gravitas that you and Tilses lacked; the kind of man was used to being in charge. Still, Tilses wouldn’t argue, not with you here.

“Understood, sir.”

Military discipline was a hard habit to shake, or so you heard. You smiled as you as her steps faded in the distance and the stone door grinding open and shut. And then there were two.

“I don’t blame you for Mol,” you said. “Obviously, the circumstances are shaping that one, and it would take more resources than you, me, or the entire Grove has to alter her trajectory.”

Zevlor sighed. “...I don’t think I’m capable of discussing Mol’s future right now.” There came a soft grunt and you didn’t have to open your eyes to know that the tiefling was sitting on the table across from you, just a few handspans away. If you lifted your head, he would probably move away, so you stayed there, the slight dissonance of his aura making your ears ring. You didn’t mind though. Things that might have bothered you a week ago couldn’t really match up to a godsdamned mindflayer tadpole swimming through your brain.

Some tieflings possessed a discomforting presence, akin to knowing you were being stalked by an apex predator, or that feeling of something alien crawling across your skin, or that screaming gut instinct that warned you when truly dark magics were abound. It was an involuntary inheritance, a side effect of being part devil, or at least having their human bloodlines tainted by a Hellish pact. But you knew better than most that biology didn’t override character.

Zevlor was a striking model of an Asmodeus tiefling: deep red skin, sharp features, and a pair of thick black horns twisting out of his skull. From what you heard, that strain got well and truly screwed over by their progenitor devil lord’s plotting.

“Would you like something to drink?” A cork popped and there was the clink of metal cups sitting on the table.

“Is it poison?” you asked. “Because I’ve got some lovely wyvern poison of my own. No need to dip into your personal stores.”

“That would be a poor repayment for all the help you’ve given,” Zevlor said, his tone mild.

You didn’t think he was offended. Hard to say. He was difficult to read, unless you decided to use your illithid powers, but then- People didn’t like it when you did that. You didn’t always like it when you did that.

He poured the drinks, and you slowly raised your head, lured out by your own dry mouth.

Zevlor was standing now, he gestured to the uncorked bottle, which sat beside the cups in front of you, all of it available for your inspection.

“Ashaba Dusk?” you asked, sniffing the common wine.

“It’s not so bad,” he said.

It figured that he liked red wines. You wondered if he smoked a pipe too. “You seem like the type to prefer a Gulthmeran Reserve.” It was a dryer red, complex with stronger mineral taste. Something suited for the palate of a stoic older man.

Zevlor’s lips twitched. “Is that so?”

“Am I wrong?”

“I wouldn’t say “no” to a bottle. But finding one out here might prove difficult,” he said as you chose your cup, pretty certain that none of it was poisoned. After all, they still needed your help dealing with the goblins, defanging Kagha, and rescuing the Archdruid. Logic made rationalization easy, even though you had no logical reason to be here alone with this man.

The wine wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. You drank it though. Today had been long, and you weren't going to turn your nose up at his hospitality.

The two of you finished your cups and sat in an almost comfortable silence. Your shoulders lowered incrementally and you basked in his calm company. You were on your second round of refills before he spoke again. “Was there something you wished to discuss?” he asked, fixing that burning stare on you.

Your stomach flip-flopped, but you just raised your cup and took a drink, buying yourself a few seconds to compose your words. “Just enjoying the ambiance.”

His brow furrowed, and he looked around the cave, clearly trying to figure out what you were referring to. The air in the chamber was cool, there were a couple shelves lined with books, and the candlelight was warm and golden. There were no fleshpits, no bloodstains, and nothing was trying to kill you. Best of all, you could not hear Shadowheart and Lae’zel bickering. To be fair, Lae’zel sniped at everyone, but Shadowheart got so damn shrill about it.

“Look, my...friends are nice and all, but sometimes they’re a bit much,” you said. “I’m taking a break from being mediator.”

“Ah,” he said. He rested his chin in his hand, thoughtfully. “I can lend you the chamber. Would you like some privacy?”

You winced. “No, no, I’m enjoying the company too.”

“I see,” he said, brow furrowing momentarily. He refilled your cup, sitting on the edge of the table farthest from you.

You studied the map of Elturel on the desk, while sipping your unpoisoned wine. And then a thought occurred to you much too late. “Oh gods, I’m intruding, aren’t I?” you groaned. “Look, don’t feel obligated. I’ve found a ton of great hiding spots in the Grove. I can take a dip in the sacred pool. There are some very private corners in the library. Hell, I can even go camp out with Mol.”

“...Don’t do that,” Zevlor grimaced.

“You’re right. She absolutely doesn’t need access to wyvern poison. I’ll go sit with Dammon. Aside from the hammering and the smithing, he’s pretty quiet.”

You’re not intruding,” Zevlor said, forcefully. “My hosting skills are simply rusty. I...welcome the chance to practice.”

“Oh,” you said, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It wasn’t a believable reason in the least, but it did seem that he wasn’t trying to shoo you out. At least, you felt more confident that you were not unwelcome.

Zevlor studied your face. “How do you find Dammon’s company?”

“He’s a good kid and so cheerful in the face of everything that’s happened. I’m impressed by his attitude and his skills,” you said. “He’s helping me keep my tiefling in good shape.” Karlach was a certified badass, but she still needed extra special care. Gods, now that you thought about it, tieflings were like exotic fish, it was a real struggle to keep them alive.

Zevlor nodded. “We’re lucky to have him.” He set the empty bottle down and looked over his shoulder at the worn down storage crates, clearly considering the state of his supplies. He was a lean man, and while the kids were small, it was clear that the adults weren’t letting them go hungry. He likely didn’t have a lot to spare.

“Oh! I’ve got a bottle of Ithbank in my pack – the good kind.” You quickly dug into your bag and pulled it out. You were considering trying to bribe Asterion with it, but honestly, he would probably just turn his nose up at the unimpressive offer. You rummaged around your supply pack and found some cheese wedges, ham, a loaf of sourdough bread, and the treasure you scored while exploring. Looking around furtively, you pulled a small ripe sunmelon out and winked. “I know everyone is eating apples, but I’m sick of things trying to poison me-”

“You’ve mentioned poison very frequently today. How often does this happen to you?” Zevlor asked, looking concerned.

“Well, just this week-” You tried to think back. “The bandits, the goblins, some traps, the swamp apples, Nettie-”

“The healer?” Zevlor sounded alarmed.

“Yeah, because of the whole parasite infection thing,” you muttered, the wine loosening your tongue. Only a select few knew that you were carrying mindflayer tadpoles, and he was one of them since you had to explain to him why you were able to just walk into the Absolute camp without raising the alarm. “Look, the point is, I’m put off apples for awhile.” You pulled out a clean food knife – not a dagger, people applied all sorts of deadly coatings to their weapons – and eyed the cheese.

Zevlor rose and brought over clean plates and more cutlery. There was an economy to his motions, a careful precision to everything, no wasted movement. No tells either. This man tried to keep his cards very close to his chest.

It was very different from the first time you met, when he was shouting orders and coming down from the post-battle fury and the loss of one of his charges. Rage uncoiled all those carefully suppressed feelings and destroyed self control: you understood that feeling all too well. The contrast was interesting, you liked watching him.

You made a nice little plate cubes of cheese and ham, slices of bread, and cut your half of the melon into long wedges. Zevlor made a neat sandwich and chopped his melon into bite-sized chunks. This time you poured the Ithbank while Zevlor watched.

He took a sip. “This is nice. Thank you,” he said quietly.

“It really is,” you smiled, biting into the melon and getting some down your chin. The flavor was honey sweet, the flesh luscious and crisp under your teeth. You happily licked your fingers, slurping down the juice. Fuck, these were so much better than apples, and absolutely worth fighting a bunch of bandits for.

When you looked up, Zevlor was staring down at the table.

“I’m being messy, aren't I?” you muttered, wiping your mouth off. The heady combination of too much wine, sweet melon, and the company was making you sloppy. “Sorry.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Zevlor coughed and poured himself some more wine, averting his eyes. He carefully bit into his melon cubes. His tongue flicked out and he licked his lips, closing his eyes. “That is delicious,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his tail swishing behind him.

Satisfied that he was enjoying his fruit, you devoured your slices too quickly, eating them down to the rind. When you looked up, Zevlor was only half finished, clearly taking his time and really savoring the experience.

“These are better than apples,” he said, glancing down at your empty plate. He speared a chunk of melon and extended his fork. “I don’t know if I can finish all this though.”

A damned lie if you ever heard one, and between Wyll and Asterion, you heard a lot of creative truths. You took a swig of wine and met that burning gaze, your breath catching. “I’ll take a bite,” you said. “But you clearly aren’t eating enough. You really should take better care of yourself, Zevlor.”

You leaned forward, delicately took the melon between your teeth, and pulled it off the tines. You gave the utensil a light parting bite, never looking away from Zevlor’s face.

He swallowed audibly, but his hand did not shake and he did not draw back. He just watched you with narrowed eyes, his jaw clenched, those sharp nails digging into his palms, his tail snapping from side to side. That tension was familiar. You remembered a similar strained look back when he got into a confrontation with that asshole mercenary. Maybe you were pushing him too far.

“Have I offended you?” you asked a little sheepishly. You did just take his food from him while insinuating that he was bad at taking care of himself.

“No,” he said gruffly, his voice an octave lower. “But are you going to claim that you don’t know what you’re doing?”

You smiled, lowering your eyes in amusement. “I’m just enjoying the ambiance.”

Zevlor gave a low exhalation, those orange eyes burning intently as he regarded you. “The situation is difficult enough,” he said, his voice harsh. “Hells, teasing an old man is cruel.”

You blinked. “I’ve seen you fight, Zevlor. I’d hardly call you old.” You met his gaze. “And teasing is only cruel if one doesn’t intend to follow through.” You stood, the wine giving you a cocksure recklessness that you would not possess sober. You leaned over the table, nearly nose to nose with him, baring your teeth in a grin. “I’ll deal with Kagha tomorrow. We’ll figure out the goblins after that. And then, if you’re still interested, let’s do something about it.”

Zevlor stiffened, his eyes widening, his lips parting in shock.

You took a swig of the Ithbank, and slammed it down next to him, lifting one of those calloused hands to your lips. You brushed your mouth against the inside of his wrist and then caught his index finger between your teeth. You sucked it down to the knuckle, tasting the blended salt and sulfur of his skin and the sweet stickiness of the melon. The heat of the digit made you want more than this, but you had to be careful with those sharp nails.

Zevlor’s nostrils flared, those brimstone eyes burning as he gritted his teeth, your name a hoarse curse in his mouth.

“And if you’re not interested,” you said, lowering his hand gently. “That’s fine too. It’s entirely up to you. We can just blame the wine.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and left, before you did something really stupid. It didn’t matter though, the fire was already in your veins and the taste of him lingered on your tongue.

Fic posted on AO3 now.

[donnerpartyofone]

nothing to see here

I have to get over this crippling fear of being misunderstood that makes me angry, paranoid, anti-social, and sometimes even aggressive. It makes me say too much or too little. It makes me a worse writer.

I think that when most people complain about being misunderstood, they are talking about having a bad reputation, being slandered, or having no one who takes the time to get to know them. The latter thing correlates with a false equivalence between being understood and being liked, which is not a necessary product of understanding. Sometimes people also equate being understood with being correct--forgetting that someone can understand what you are saying and still disagree with it. Variations on all of those things have happened to me, just like anybody else, but my anxiety is really about people simply not comprehending the basic things that I am actually saying.

People in my life tell me that I'm very articulate, this is held to be my main quality I think, but that idea is contradicted by the frequency with which I go to great pains to explain something as specifically as possible, only to have people (often the same people who tell me I'm smart and well-spoken) completely misconstrue it, project their own baggage onto it, hold me responsible for assumptions about what I mean that are contradicted by what I just said, repeat back to me what I just said as if it were their own original idea, or even answer questions that I didn't actually ask. Mansplaining is alive and well in 2024 CE, perhaps especially among leftist men who believe they could never personally commit this crime, which presumption leaves them wide open to mansplaining all the time without thinking. But that's only a small part of the story of why so many people never seem to have the slightest idea of what I am saying to them, no matter how specific and detailed I try to be in my quest to say one thing clearly, while eliminating all over possible meanings.

I suppose it is terrifying to be misunderstood because it can make it so that you cannot control your circumstances. Advocating for yourself counts for nothing if people witlessly or willfully fail to understand your words. Language control is a major weapon of authority. I have been in corporate situations where my colleagues and I were prevented from resolving problems because upper management, who were tired of hearing about the problems, instituted language bans that prevented us from even discussing the problems clearly and effectively. I was once at an ayahuasca retreat (don't ask) where the shady organizers banned everyone from using the word "sick", which I guess was contrary to their whole healing ideology; so if you had to "get well" then you would "get well" into your bucket and an attendant would empty the bucket into the "wellness pit". One of the people I was with had grown up in an evangelical environment and went on to study religions and cults, and he pointed out that this form of language control is a classic red flag--and in particular if you are taking away a person's ability to make a critical distinction like the one between sickness and health, that can indicate a pretty dangerous situation. For another, even more obvious example, if you're in a relationship where someone is creating ambiguity around words like "yes" and "no", and inventing all kinds of subtext and context for your words, you're in trouble.

Of course, misunderstanding happens for all kinds of innocent reasons too. People don't listen that well, they don't read that well, they are just waiting for their turn to talk, they're angry and they don't think about what they're really hearing or saying, they are full of subconscious projections, they assume they know what you're talking about without reviewing your whole statement and then they just make their usual foregone conclusions. They have some narrative in mind, often a more optimistic one than whatever you are struggling to describe, and they'll contradict you with this attitude like they're doing you a big favor (like they're not kind of calling you a liar). It's incredibly frightening to be misunderstood. It's like one of those nightmares where you're running away in slow motion, or more aptly you try to scream but nothing comes out. I'm 100% sure this is why I'm so obsessed with language: I think that if I can just figure out how to say things that are always understood, then I will be able to save myself from danger.

But this fear makes me take things seriously when I shouldn't. The internet can help you find your people and it can show and teach you things you didn't know about before, but every time you say anything online, to friends or strangers, you create limitless opportunities to be misunderstood in ways that you have never dreamed possible. It is so hard for me not to correct people. I KNOW that it is not important for internet randos to understand me. I also KNOW that most people still won't understand me even if I correct them. But it is SO HARD not to say "That's not what I said" or "That's exactly what I already said" or "You're making an assumption that isn't based on anything and is also not true" or "I didn't ask" or "That's not even what I was talking about." I KNOW it doesn't matter, and that if I dig in with someone, I am likely to become MORE FRUSTRATED. But when I don't correct the person, this DANGER light goes on in my brain and all day long I have this anxious feeling like I forgot to do something important, like I left the oven on or something, and I had better go back and fix the problem OR ELSE. It's easy to decide intellectually that not everyone's opinions and perceptions matter, and it is obvious that misunderstanding is a common problem that you can never eliminate completely, so the only thing to do is ignore the situation and keep living your life. But if only ignoring the situation were not so emotionally loaded, it would be a lot easier to steer clear of making bad situations worse.

Another option is to just stop saying things altogether, and this is actually an appealing possibility. Unfortunately it comes with just as much emotional difficulty as the fruitless struggle to make oneself understood.

[flagellant]

"Blanche (an American) singlehandedly had the power to control the taste/manufacturing of something (in the past) that we (today) consider to be intrinsically Japanese,"

And

"No one person is able to have that much power; they have to be backed by governments/corporations/etc to have that sort of power,"

Are two statements that can and do coexist.

Honestly kind of alarmed by how many people can't grasp that the amount of power she had was because she was an American woman - and in a position of power in the American food industry. Being part of which apparently gave her the power to sway a whole food product in a country with an entirely different culture both in and out of food (which.. yikes? Is this not alarming?).

The people arguing that she couldn't have had that power because she's just one person are making my head spin because... where do you think she got the power from? It was given to her.

Please be open minded and understand the context and subtext in op's posts; op knows where this woman's power came from. The point that op is making (correct me if wrong!) is that one American woman in Japan, surrounded by Japanese folk, had the power to give orders to them. Because America said so, and the world lets America do that because they know America is a huge power - the issue here is that so many cultures have been invaded by America (and Russia, China, England, etc) over more than just their borders because these countries hold a lot of political weight and like to throw it around. And the more you look into what occupation looks like, the more there is of it - and that's scary.

[Anyway sidenote op I'm a big supporter of your work and can't wait for the final report/publication so I can get my facts straight. Also sorry on behalf of all the people who can't just discuss with you nicely and who seem to prefer passive aggression/just straight-up aggression when trying to become involved in your research. You don't deserve that. Hope your holiday is warm and kind to you!] [Also sorry if my knowledge or wording is a bit off, I'm experiencing a lot of brain fog today - but upon catching up with the posts since yesterday, I needed to say something because yikes!]

I find it genuinely hilarious that these two asks came in immediately at the same time. Law of equivalent anons.

[dragon-appreciator-fray]

Depths of Promises Sworn

A reading by the author!

Tonight's chapter: 1 - An Unwanted Prince.

I thought it would be fun to do a reading of my own story. Below the Keep Reading break is a long series of thoughts on my own work. Despite the risk of turning subtext into overt Word of the Goddess, I ultimately want to give myself space and a platform to share how much this story means to me.

But first off, a link to the chapter I will be quoting. (Everything I write is intended to remain freely available to read for as long as I live. After that point it will get considerably more difficult for me to guarantee.)

Obligatory mention that I accept financial support in the form of patreon subs and ko-fi at this time.

If you like what you read here, the link above has 25 chapters as of the time of writing. Royal Road counts just the text (minus author's notes and announcements) as 86,682 words.

Depths of Promises Sworn opens with a letter.

"By order of the Vylian Castellan, forever may she reign." are my first choice of words.

We have what is framed as the name of a nation, not so subtlety meant to sound like the word villain. Whoever we're talking about, she rules from a castle. The line ends with a refrain to paint this as a long lived entity.

This line is meant to cast a shadow over sooooo much. But to say anything more would be spoilers.

The body of the message more directly and succinctly outlines the situation. An arranged marriage between the fourteenth of the Castellan's brood to a pair of characters with lunar themed names.

A protector is assigned, material investments are articulated, and the continuation of some correspondence on the subject of a deepening alliance justifies the opener as a tangible letter that exists in the world.

The sign off line: "Faithfully yours until the thrones of old are bled dry and our vile moon is satiated" is all intrigue~!

Setting up anchor points to play with later is important, I think. And now that I'm well into Arc Two? I am quite satisfied with the payoff for what this line sets up. Even just in Arc One, if there is proof that the correspondents here can fuck with the moon, it does not bode well for whoever is occupying an Old Throne.

This was always going to be a story with a sense of scale and intrigue, but I'm quite comfortable building up to that at my pace.

Arc One: Everything to Prove

I did not name the arcs until I got to Arc Two, but this was more or less always going to be the name of this one? It gives me a lot of room to just let the Fourteenth Prince Ayre make the most of their circumstances.

We've got a scale. If the Second Broodling is casually discussing fucking with a moon and bleeding dry the thrones of old, what is the Fourteenth capable of? Very little? Or an alarming amount?

There's a lot of room there for Ayre to reveal what they are capable of and at their own pace. I always knew that I'd hold off on introducing anymore of Ayre's siblings at least until Arc One's end.

After that, well, the safety wheels come off and things can escalate whenever one is on screen.

Astraea Wyrmsbane is introduced as a lilac horned and fleshed woman who is tall enough to need to be mindful about the carriage's height.

Between this and the letter, I feel like I've done a good job at belittling Ayre's importance in their own story.

Almost immediately after, Ayre wonders about how capable their vulpine driver is of listening through the walls.

With Ayre uncertain of their privacy and likening of the carriage to a cage, much of the conversation is presented as hiding behind a layer of allegory or intrigue.

Ayre's first words... are about the Castellan. Something I genuinely don't think I do enough is allude to her.

I've got a carefully crafted opening that talks about the main character as a pawn, sold off as some bargaining chip in an arranged marriage over whatever an implement is. (Equivalent to cursed magic wands)

The first thing overtly spoken about the Castellan is that her dungeons do not pretend to be comfortable.

And I quite love that as a first line.

Someone who confines a character framed as their child to the dungeons for much of their life is not someone I expect readers to like much. And yet Ayre would prefer the dungeons to this carriage delivering them to their destination three days early.

I definitely go on to frame and think of the Castellan as Ayre's abuser. That she is open and unapologetic about it is probably my favorite part. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Ayre is quick to display a mindfulness about their dolls, who themselves need to be reminded to take care of themselves. They are then shown to be very aware that any vulnerability Astraea shows in this chapter is something to be seen as consistently exploited weakness.

Ayre comes from incredibly fucked up circumstances. Yet they immediately present as striving to be sensitive and responsible with the kind of power afforded to them.

I portray them as new to court, and as an unwilling participant, but their hands are not bloodless. It is the kind of thing where I can make them just knowledgeable enough to be incredibly capable and confident when it is needed, but there is a lot of room for them to learn alongside the readers.

Ayre is not a blank slate.

Ayre is deeply deeply traumatized, but they are fresh from circumstances where they cannot under any circumstances show it. Which affords me opportunities to constantly reintroduce you all to Ayre as their backstory reveals itself and Ayre makes peace with their past.

The Depths of Promises Sworn comes from a place of me wanting to write about queer characters in incredibly bleak circumstances.

The Depths are a curse that Ayre frequently uses.

I frame it as a crucible to such an extent that this is a story where Ayre even struggles with agreeing to make promises with the characters they meet. And I'm okay mentioning that here to set expectations.

The Depths as a location and backstory element probably deserve their own book. But I did not want to write Dark Fantasy when I first started writing this story, merely skip to writing a traumatized protagonist because that's what I keep writing, whether I intend it or not.

That's the TLDR on why Ayre is "like this."

Ayre wants better.

They accept things proposed to them that might be incredibly forward for others, and just work from whatever position is put forward for them.

When next Astraea speaks, I recognize the hope in her words. “My life only began to feel like my own once I escaped the shadows cast by my infamous parents.” Unable to correlate this hope with anything but foolishness, I hold my tongue. What am I supposed to say to that? That much of these woods still fall under the shadow of Castellan’s mountain fortifications? Or the last time someone looked at me the way she is now, I tore out their throat for daring to think the depths were possible to escape? No. My late sister would never forgive me for being as cruel as the rest of my family.

And there we have it. I propose Astraea as something of a mentor in this chapter. But Ayre already had an incredible positive influence on their life. A sister who would never forgive cruelty in Ayre.

I decide instead to ask the most obvious question that occurs to me. “Your parents didn’t craft you to be perfect?” I mean, just look at her unnatural lilac skin, horns, and claws.

This is immediately followed up by Ayre making such inquiries that should give readers a lot to think about what kind of fantasy world they are stepping into.

This is one where physical features CAN BE PICKED.

But which way is this going? Eugenics nightmare world or a queer paradise? Something to chew on for later as I leave that deliberately unanswered, giving only somewhat alarming non-answers as I allude to what things are going on.

Astraea goes on to speak of personal reflection counterbalanced by what makes her feel like enough. All sentiments Ayre has engaged with in this conversation.

This quickly escalates to this fanciful story of Astraea's talking openly of challenging her family.

And what does Ayre immediately think?

"Did they hurt you?"

Ayre has my heart.

I love them so much for being focused on the personal cost of attempting such a thing, nevermind thinking about how it played out.

The casual mention of the Castellan's library including information on any number of long lived entities, but none fitting Astraea's description is intended to be a sign.

Ayre is very cautious. I don't really see them as the type to ask someone their age. But a lil critical thinking and some reveals later will reveal that Ayre hasn't had much opportunities to gain an appreciable measure or understanding of time.

What this section is intended to outline is that Astraea is not someone Ayre will be able to run away with lightly.

In spite of me framing all of this as a comforting story or a commitment to offer Ayre assurances that all will be well, I do give you more than enough information here to make any number of educated guesses about why Astraea is here.

Ayre clearly isn't thinking of the bigger picture of their own future and why someone might invest in them early. They're still used to surviving assassination attempts but do not see themselves as having a position of any real worth beyond being able to claim Fia and Selescia as their own.

With Astraea having three lovers, you could take multiple guesses and still be true. As of the most up to date chapters? I show the fate of one and very clearly outline another.

But there is never enough time to communicate all the things it feels like we need to.

This feels like a staple line that Ayre already believes. Surely it will never come up again.

If I allow myself to assume for a moment that she is trustworthy, Astraea is probably who I needed most to fill the role of my Sworn Blade. "I suspect you are going to prove irreplaceable, Astraea.” “I know.” She says, once more adopting that confident mask, and not a moment too soon. Our illusion of privacy is broken as the carriage door opens to reveal our white furred guide. “Right this way, young Princeling. Your new home awaits.”

Confirming that the vulpine guide from earlier is definitely some kind of furry fox girl. Just to really cement that I'm committing to something unconcerned with elves, dwarves, and humans.

Astraea has genuinely treated this whole chapter as a comforting truth that Ayre isn't ready for.

But there is hope for the hopeless yet.

I enjoyed writing all of this up immensely. I think I'll definitely be doing these again. Even if they are a bit of a commitment.