#it was the only place where people validated her. accepted her. loved her.

[bandtrees]

this has always been one of my favorite lines in this scene it’s so striking to me. i think debating over callum’s level of lucidity and what can or cannot “fix” him is deeply antithecal to what the story is trying to express with him - but the idea that callum is still there and still a person who does have the capacity to love mingus, just not in a way she can ever comprehend or accept, because she can't comprehend or accept anything outside her narrow worldview, is sooooo good.

there is no way of actually knowing if callum is proud of mingus, much less recognizes her at all - but it's added to by the fact there's only so much of that she would accept even if he could. ultimately, she wants validation and power, his prestige, from him, she wants a supportive parental figure she never had - there's only so much of that callum is able to provide even in a world where her stint to fix his memory actually worked. he's like a hundred. he never even MET her. to say nothing of all he's missed in the past fifty-odd years. to say nothing of how his age may have messed with his mind deteriorating even without the pre-existing brain damage.

and mingus' phrasing here implies he doesn't even look at her when she visits - which brings me to the visit that radicalized her: the one after her surgery, where he was watching gingi out the window.

obviously, callum watching gingi is mostly for the thematics of it all, how similar the two of them are in ways mingus refuses to recognize, but theres also the thought of... callum's been sitting alone in that room for over half his life, barely lucid if at all. of course he's going to be drawn to a brightly-colored thing making noises and knocking stuff over outside. if he can't respond to stimuli of the people around him he's at the very least going to latch onto something more visually interesting than Brown Wall and Brown Figure.

but it's not like mingus can think of it like that, because she's internalized so much about her grandfather and built up such a specific, personalized vision of him - she doesn't see him as an elderly man with (a fictional equivalent to) dementia, she sees him as President Callum Crown™, the man she personally has to please and live up to the legacy of and make proud, disregarding the fact that's not something he has the mental capacity to even do - because she's so obsessed with validation and complete control that the only way she can get it is by either subjugating others and forcing it out of them (what she does with her townsfolk), or just completely projecting on someone who, for her purposes, is basically a blank slate.

which is maddening to her in its own way, see how crazy she drives herself trying to restore callum's memory in the first place - but also, would she be happy even if callum could see her for who she is? post-game, when she's working on herself, that's an irrelevant question as she's pushed past that need, but as we know her? absolutely not.

i love the ch3 standoff between norm and mingus as a show of "Okay guys let’s see who can dehumanize this disabled guy harder (via pedestal-putting) and justify themselves for it better" and why i think it is so important that it’s gingi who reads the postcard and ultimately speaks for callum instead of either of them, or even the narrator. they can’t read, and they struggle to, but they manage to get it right even when people are telling them to stop. and the fact they’re able to do it at all, are given the chance to do so, and are ultimately the one to wind down this conflict shows that the world of dialtown, while not perfect, really is how callum would have wanted it.

both gingi and callum are some of the most altruistic and human characters ever, and the crux of their parallels is that they are denied this by close-minded people because they happen to Behave Strangely. it's why seeing mingus act the way she does hits so hard - she loves her paw-paw, yes, but if she were to see him in a vacuum, a one-limbed man who can hardly think, much less speak for himself: or even his younger self, who was struggling to make ends meet with his odd inventions...

...well, the feeling norm's imagining here would probably be mutual. mingus' relationship with bigotry is a very fascinating one, she's very close-minded but views certain oddities (ie her flesh-head) as having earned their place and thus being fine - she's a freak too, by her own admission, but she's doing it for a just and wider purpose, so it's fine. which is, ironically, the ideology callum forced upon himself.

callum was obsessed with helping people, pushing himself to do more and more, because it was the only way he ever found respect. if he didn't help people and have grand visions for the world and make himself "useful" to society at large, then what would he be, if not a freak?

mingus and her paw-paw are very similar people, from their well-intentioned extremism, to their stubbornness and paranoia, to their inability to view themselves as anything more than a vessel for that grand cause they believe in (callum in the dialup, mingus in restoring her paw-paw's memory) - which is funny, because if mingus was able to view callum, and herself, as a flawed human person, she would come to understand how similar they really are.

:(

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 19. attention seeker

welcome to the second act. warnings for this chapter include depictions of alcoholism and family issues

'BEING AN INFLUENCER WAS A REAL JOB THAT REQUIRED A TREMENDOUS AMOUNT OF WORK.'

Yeah, right.

Shin Yuna heard phrases along those lines all the time. Whenever she watched other people's content, a good majority of the influencers would rant about how difficult their life was, or how stressful their workload was when it came to recording and editing.

Sure, it took some effort to edit and upload new content. Yuna allocated several hours a week to do so, but all she had to do was set up a livestream for the cash to start rolling in. Wear something skimpy. Bat her lashes at the camera. Pout a little. Play up the damsel in distress act. It was simply too easy.

princessval***: omg girl pls stop drinking 😭 onlyyuna03: she's so messy i love her luvyuna***: you're back already? i thought you were taking a break onlyyuna03: @luvyuna*** you must be new LOL she always does this

But this—the flood of comments that poisoned her screen—was the curse of putting herself on the internet.

It wasn't like this during her first year of streaming. Back in high school, Yuna's parents were fighting every day, and since she didn't have any friends to talk to, she turned to the internet. She would stay up all night in random Discord servers, chatting with strangers and confiding in them about her family issues.

Naturally, these chats turned into voice calls, which later turned into video calls. Initiated by her, of course. No one else had their cameras on, though; Yuna quickly grew comfortable being in the spotlight, basking in the glow of praise from strangers. Comments like 'you're so gorgeous' and 'you should be a model' made her forget all about her family issues for a split second. Like that, it became like a drug for her.

Yuna, who was starved of attention, relished in the validation she got from online strangers. Strangers who wouldn't even share any personal information about themselves, going by fake names and hiding how old they were.

Soon after, she made her own Discord server, inviting everyone who wanted to see her get in front of her camera and talk about her day. She knew how to play her angles well, acting as if she was everyone's girlfriend while using them to satisfy her need for attention. It was a classic marketing strategy: Yuna knew her asset was her beauty, so she used it to her advantage.

All she had to do was send a picture of herself or talk in a cute voice, and everyone would fawn over her in seconds. In a life where Yuna's own parents neglected her, she found people who cared. Maybe their intentions weren't in the right place, but they were present and ready to listen to whatever she had to say.

She got ambitious, deciding to start live-streaming to a wider audience. Yuna started on Twitch, playing various games like Overwatch and League of Legends. She didn't have to be very good as long as people liked her face and stayed for her reactions.

As she grew a following, she moved to YouTube and TikTok, doubling her follower count in only months. Before, she would be talking to an audience of around 20 people, but now she was racking in thousands as soon as she went live.

Of course, there came drama, too. And Yuna found it exhilarating.

If someone called her out on something, all she had to do was come up with some sob story about how she didn't deserve to hear that, and everyone would come with pitchforks to defend her. She was very calculative in that way, knowing exactly when and how to turn the tide if it wasn't in her favor.

For some reason, that never seemed to work with her parents.

"You're a disappointment," her father spat at her the day she showed him her Yale acceptance letter. She had sparkles in her eyes and a bright smile all day, only for her to feel completely crushed. She couldn't understand why; it was her father's dream for her to get into Yale, after all. "This is the only acceptance letter you've got, huh?"

Yuna hesitated. The competition for all of the Ivy League schools was rough this year; she had been getting rejections left and right, but she thought her family would be satisfied with Yale. After all, it was her father's alma mater.

"Yeah," she answered in a small voice. She looked down at her acrylic-damaged nails, neglected from years of biting the skin until they bled. "I thought you'd be happy with Yale."

"Happy?" Mr. Shin barked out a laugh. "You didn't actually get into Yale on your own, you know that, right?" He scoffed when Yuna gave him a confused look. Then, Mr. Shin slammed his phone against the dinner table, causing his wife and daughter to flinch. "Five hundred thousand. I paid five hundred thousand to get you in. Mr. Nakamura only paid two to get Kazuha in, but I had to pay five. That's how useless you are."

"Sunoo? You know my old boss's son?" he would provoke her for the rest of dinner. "He got in all by himself. You know Hyejin's son—Anton—he got into Yale and Brown on his own, too."

"You need to work hard, Yuna," Mrs. Shin said before stabbing at her salad. "Your dad could only get you in as an undeclared major. You need to get into pre-med on your own."

Tears prickled her eyes, but she stayed silent. Even her college acceptance was a fraud; she had done nothing out of her own hard work.

Except her skyrocketing career as an influencer.

The high of her fame only lasted a short while, though. During the summer before her freshman year of college, Yuna's parents discovered what she had been getting up to on the internet.

Shameful, they called it, as if Yuna was committing a crime.

Yuna's parents were surgeons, and rather good ones at that. They both got their undergraduate degrees at Stanford, and then their doctorates at Harvard. The two of them became neurosurgeons after their residency and board exams, and then transferred to Mercy Health where Mr. Shin became the Chair of Neurological Surgery, which set the bar a little high for Yuna.

She was never spectacular. She was always more interested in makeup and clothes instead of science and medicine. Yuna would've rather worked toward a career as a fashion designer, often dreaming about fashion shows she could design for. She knew she would make it far, too—even Donatella Versace told her backstage during Paris Fashion Week that she had an eye for fashion, and that she could go far.

The few times she visited your house, she remembered meeting your mom, a well-known fashion designer herself, and showing off her sketches. Yuna distinctly recalled her words of approval, and she had to bite her tongue whenever your mom would offer to take Yuna on a tour of her studio, only for her parents to turn down the offer.

Her parents were so adamant about Yuna following their path to becoming a surgeon that they threw away all of her sketchbooks and colored pencils when she showed them her work. Even when she got the opportunity of a lifetime to be taken under Vivienne Westwood's wing, her parents crushed her dreams under their heels.

From a young age, she knew that hard work was only determined by her parents. Her true efforts were simply considered a waste of time.

Naturally, Yuna let out all her emotions when she live-streamed. It just so happened that her parents found out through the families of people who knew her. First, she would be grounded. When that wouldn't work, she would get all of her devices taken away. When she found a loophole around that, she would have to endure her father's rage.

Halfway through her first year at Yale, her parents disowned her.

She was on academic probation after her first semester. While she was trying to file a restraining order against someone who was stalking her (who claimed to be a fan), her grades managed to slip until she failed most of her classes. The worst part was, she had been expecting her parents to worry about the stalking incident, but they only cared about her GPA. Casting Yuna away was just protecting the Shin family's shiny status.

Everything was gone. Yuna was no longer part of the world you and Sunoo lived in. All her connections to the medical field, all her connections to the fashion industry—all out of her grasp. Still, maybe it was her flickering hope to somehow please her parents that kept her on the path to become a doctor. Not that it something she was genuinely interested in, but she knew it was the only way her parents would take her back.

Now she had to keep up her influencer career to support herself financially. There was no way she would be able to pay off tuition, even if Sunoo had generously paid the deposit for her small apartment. She had to keep up with bills, rent, and utilities all at once, and it was all too much for an eighteen-year-old to handle.

She got used to accepting help because of that. You helped foot some of her bills, Sunoo helped with tuition, Anton helped make sure she was eating, and the money she got from streaming and posting videos was enough to cover the rest of her expenses.

Even with an outlet to express her concerns to her fans, though, Yuna was struggling with barely making friends. You, Sunoo, and Anton were the only ones who lent a shoulder and an ear for her to dump all her pain and worries to. But she still had to hold them at arm's length. After all, all of their upper-crust families were in close contact with each other.

And then there was Lee Heeseung.

He was a new face in the socialite scene. No one had heard of him or his family before. Heeseung was probably Yuna's ideal type—handsome, intelligent, popular, and someone who hadn't been sucked into her world yet. Although he was alledgedly close to you and Park Sunghoon, no one else had any idea of what his family did.

Over the years, Yuna was terrified that she had built a reputation among the rich families that were in her circle. She could feel the disdain in their eyes when she was at social events, steering clear of every adult that looked as though they wanted to probe her for information about her college admissions.

Heeseung, however, was like a breath of fresh air. There was no judgment in his eyes when Yuna spoke to him, and that might have been the very moment she fell for him.

He was different. He didn't have any expectations of her nor did he feel uncomfortable when he found out she was a streamer. She liked that he came from a humble background, and he never judged her from where she came from. Even when Yuna confessed that she had been disowned, Heeseung never looked at her with pity in his eyes. He simply told her that he would be there if she ever needed him, and he left it at that.

She tried her best to get close to him, but the closer Yuna got, the more she saw under the surface—the more she realized she was heading toward heartbreak. It was clear as day that Heeseung was deeply in love with you, and it seemed as though he had no intention of considering any other woman. Even Yuna could tell he would give up everything in a heartbeat for your sake.

Yuna did her best to avoid conversations about Heeseung with you. She figured that if they never brought him up, then you wouldn't start to feel differently about him.

To her relief, you started dating Park Sunghoon.

Yuna used Heeseung's vulnerability to her advantage. As much as she liked him, he was a coward when it came to his own feelings; Heeseung could only bring himself to come clean about how he felt for you after you started dating another man. Of course, he was turned down—ignored, even. In your mind, you just wanted to keep up the fantasy of having a close childhood friend to the point where you had Heeseung bottle up everything he felt.

Yuna thought you were cruel back then, but she was even more so.

She knew that Heeseung couldn't do anything about his feelings no matter how much it ate at him, so Yuna pretended she wanted to listen to him go on and on about how miserable he was. It was all because of you, and, for a period of time, Yuna despised you for it.

Months rolled by, and Yuna found herself going over to Heeseung's dorm room nearly every day. They talked about anything and everything, and then the conversation would eventually shift to you. Yuna felt something chip at her heart every time he mentioned your name, but she braved through it all.

"Thanks for coming over," Heeseung murmured, running a hand through his already-messy hair. Yuna could smell the alcohol on his breath when she sat down next to him on the floor. Heeseung laughed. "One-month anniversary. Y/N always told me she found those stupid."

Yuna pressed her lips into a thin line. She remembered walking to class with you last week and hearing you gush about everything you bought Sunghoon for your one-month anniversary as a couple. She thought it was sweet back then, but hearing it come from Heeseung made Yuna feel sick.

"You don't have to thank me," she said, hugging her knees to her chest. "I just wanted to be here for you."

The first time she tried to kiss Heeseung was that night.

The first time Heeseung rejected her was right after he stopped her.

"I can't," he said at the time, drawing away from her. "I'm sorry, it's just—"

"You're not over Y/N," she finished for him with a twinge of bitterness.

He shook his head, saying nothing. Yuna felt a surge of misdirected anger.

Yuna knew from the moment she met you that people like you were the shiny gold coins that everyone wanted to have, and people like her were rusted-over pennies on the sidewalk to be stepped on and forgotten. She was a fool to think that Heeseung would see past that.

"I know that." Her tone was sharp as she got to her feet, and Heeseung followed suit right after. "But I suggest you get over her soon because it's not gonna happen."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. Y/N would never go out with you. She already turned you down, anyway."

"Is that so?"

When Yuna turned around to look at Heeseung, his expression was like stone. Something ugly was twisting its way around her heart, squeezing out every semblance of affection she ever had for you.

"Yeah," she replied with a simpering smile, "because she's just too nice to choose the guy who broke her friend's heart."

"Broke—?"

"And," she said louder, cutting him off, "Sunghoon doesn't know, does he? Wouldn't he feel really betrayed if he found out?"

Heeseung kept his face impassive, but Yuna could tell he was seething. She cornered him quite well.

She kept that farce up for years. It was easy keeping Heeseung in line when you only had eyes for Sunghoon, and Heeseung was just so easily discouraged by Yuna's words. It was almost like he had no hope that you would take his word over hers, and that sent Yuna on some sort of power trip.

Her relationship with you was strange. Maybe it was at that moment when she realized that she was someone important to you, and that made her feel invincible somehow. She could do anything as long as you were on her side.

She liked drinking. Not because she particularly liked the taste of alcohol, but she loved the feeling of forgetting all her responsibilities. Every rotten memory of her parents would bury itself under the sand for the time being, and all she could feel was adrenaline pumping through her blood.

But she was never exactly in control. It only took a year to slip up in front of her friend group (thankfully when you weren't around), so she begged Karina, Yeonjun, and Giselle to keep quiet about her crush on Heeseung. They weren't even extremely close at the time, but they knew better than to tread on a situation between you and Sunghoon, whose parents were far more influential than theirs.

"It's only gonna cause more problems if she finds out," Yuna told them through choked sobs. "If Y/N finds out, things will never be the same between us, and Sunghoon doesn't even know that Heeseung has feelings for Y/N." As Giselle stroked her hair gently, Yuna said, "I can get over him on my own. Just please keep this from Y/N."

Karina and Yeonjun exchanged nervous looks before they reluctantly agreed. She had always been wary about Karina. Giselle was overly-empathetic to her situation, Yeonjun was a good listener because he thrived off of drama, but Karina had always seemed more skeptical.

And, as Heeseung knew, Yuna always found a way to silence people who she felt she couldn't trust, so she played dumb when she outed Karina on live.

It was a stupid move on her part, to be fair. Yuna deeply regretted it as soon as she realized what she said. Karina iced her out for months, and everyone else was on the colder side—even Sunoo, who had been her close friend for so long. She always felt strangely jealous of Sunoo, who got the approval of her father when she couldn't, but seeing him give her the cold shoulder nearly sent her over the edge.

"I apologized so many times!" she cried to him. Sunoo kept his guard up, but he always heard her out when she needed him. "I just don't know what else to do. I keep fucking up."

Sunoo frowned. "Do you even feel bad about what you did, or do you feel bad because you were caught?"

Yuna didn't respond to his question, but she knew exactly what the answer was. Was she pathetic? Probably.

She ruined everything. She always ruined everything.

Maybe it was just easier that way. Yuna knew that if she tried her best to please everyone, it would still never be enough. Hurting them before she cared too much was just a defense mechanism, as selfish as it sounded. If you chopped down the tree before it grew too tall, it wouldn't hinder the plants under its shade from growing.

The thing was, Yuna received blow after blow all her life without any acts of mercy. She was struck over and over again, and no one delivered the final coup de grâce.

Naturally, Karina came around and forgave her. Another missed blow. It was like Yuna was drunk off the drama itself because if she kept acting out and causing all these problems, then she could keep everyone's attention on her.

And then she wouldn't have to be so alone.

But the cycle went on and on, so when Yuna found herself texting Jay and Sunghoon in her drunken stupor, she hardly considered the consequences when she mentioned the long-kept secret of Heeseung's first love. You trusted her to keep your conversation with Jay about breaking up with Sunghoon to herself, but she violated that as soon as she could, too. She wasn't sure what it was, but whenever she looked in the mirror, all she saw was that she was as bad as her parents.

Yuna was fated to fall into the same destructive cycle over and over again until it stabbed her in the back for good. Until she bled out, though, everything was fair game.

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @hooniesuniverse @zerasari @enhalov @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @en-happiness @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @enhypens-baby @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @isawritesss @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct

[sillygoosealert]

I was so hurt after (https://www.tumblr.com/sillygoosealert/757389587337412608/stuipid-fucking-slut-i-hate-you) 🥹🥹, can you do a part two where reader goes missing after he left her but found unconscious/dead because of a reason (you could come up with one! :D)

AND ALSO, UR WRITING IS SOO GOOD, +1 FOLLOWER >.<

-🍞 anon (I will try giving you good requests >:)

I promise I won't kill myself, death is not my last resort

haiiii :3 so I'm making this part two but honestly, I might end up deleting both of the stories because I was in a bad place when I wrote that 😓 also..besides the other anon's rotting in my inbox until I respond..ur my first anon !! yippy !!

Implied Rape. You die, talks of being unsafe and how it feels to be assaulted

Love is a gentle thing, as is the innocence you once had.

It wasn't a gradual fruition to see that being a woman would change the reality of everything for you. They warned you to steer clear of dark spots and secluded areas and always be aware. The things events that were organized and reenacted are nothing short of gender-based violence.

You understood why you and many others were constantly warned, but experiencing it was so different and vile, something you should never have gone through.

Today almost didn't end with you dead, but you didn't listen to the one thing that was looking out for you- you. That day, your gut instinct felt something was awry.

The morning was fine. You got a quick kiss on Sukuna's cheek before running off to your garden work.

The garden is split into sections. Working in them isn't an issue- except the one furthest from the estate. It's where you are most likely to get harassed by other servants as it is where most people turn a blind eye to.

Your body physically would not go near it today, you just couldn't.

Maybe it's the black crow you saw out of the corner of your eye or the sinking feeling you got whenever you looked over in its direction, but you couldn't shake the uncanny feeling it was giving you.

But as a mouse gets caught in a mouse trap, you are lured into the back part of the garden when something that resembles a doe is staring right at you. Not wanting to pass up the chance to see something so pure so up close, you walk to it.

But as you walk towards the feeble deer, and it walks further and further into the now forest, you question if you really saw anything at all.

When the doe is no longer in sight, you think about how you got here. Is it too late to turn back? I don't want this anymore.

You don't get the chance to turn back, as a pair of hands are roughly groping you from behind.

What happened in the woods wasn't your fault. You were lured to the spot in the first place. Then, when you wanted out, the exit was no longer there.

It wasn't your fault.

When you don't show up to clean the garden, that one thing.

But your body was found before dinner, where the forest meets the garden, disrespected in horrendous ways.

When you mentioned the concern that you were being targeted by other peers, he recognized the validity of your perspective.

He knew you were being harassed, but to accept it was something he couldn't do.

It would mean several things to take action - the most significant being that you had a major influence on how he chose to address the situation.

The other is over half of the people working for him would be slaughtered if he honestly wanted you safe. That type of fear egged him on usually, with him being your savior at the end of the day.

Knowing the nature of these situations, something would have to be addressed sooner or later.

He was scared indigo at the thought of making that type of commitment to someone, but he wanted to for you.

The thought of death didn't scare him. He would tell death himself he wasn't afraid to die. However, the idea of you being beaten nearly to death, only to bleed out and perish, shook him to his core. This was something no amount of strength or intimidation could undo.

He doesn't find out about...your passing until he requests to see you after dinner.

The feeling that washes over him is indifferent, he doesn't know what he wants anymore, but he knows that he wants you back.

He will never know how the world could keep spinning after you were ripped away from his grasp, it should have been the end of the world.

You didn't want to die, you shouldn't have died.

That shouldn't have happened to you, you didn't deserve it.

Death is a pathic escape, I will not kill myself- not for my loved ones, but for me.

Songs referenced: Velvet Ring, The End of The World, N64, My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars, Crack Baby, Anything.

[leikeliscomet]

Racism in the ace community is seen as a joke from the outside and a confusing concept in the inside but it's pretty bait tbh:

Barbie, Wednesday and Elsa are ace-coded but not canon aces but they're widely accepted as ace icons in the community. Lacking genitalia, disliking romance and being single are not inherently asexual yet the community happily claims them as ace solely on those reasons. But Selah Summers? Nah she actually didn't say the words "aroace" even though the director confirmed it so she didn't really count. Abbi Singh? Nah she had a girlfriend and her superpower is being a succubus and it's not like the Imperfects actually addressed the themes of an asexual lesbian South Asian woman and her sexuality or anything. Fei Hargreeves? Well yeah the actress and producer confirmed it but she never said it on screen. Ace characters of colour always get held "screened" for approval to be "real rep" in a way white aces aren't its so weird (this also happens to gay aces but that's another post)

Almost anything involving Yasmin Benoit. The reason she's unacceptable ace rep is because of misogynoir. She's spoken so many times about never dating and not having sex (which mind you is none of our business and she shouldn't need to explain herself in the 1st place) and yet she's "too sexual" to represent the community. Again with the nitpicking, popular white ace accounts were so quick to dogpile her for not-so-good takes but when she speaks about racism? Crickets. When she spoke about sexual harassment? Crickets and not only that but they defended her harasser. The main ace activists that defended her were other Black aspecs.

Not understanding how desexualisation affects POC. Specifically, Black women are excluded from representations of love and sex because we're seen as undesirable. It's common for TV/Film to pair up everyone but the Black girl, or have a rebound Black partner for the non-Black main character who's disposed of when they're ready for their "real" non-Black partner again. This isn't done for Black aspecs benefit. It's a form of dehumanisation. Friendship especially in m/f is needed but exclusively pushing for friendship between Black women and non-Black men when there is romance coded or confirmed and shaming Black women in fandom or in show for shipping the Black female character is not doing what you think its doing.

Not understanding how sexualisation effects POC. Again linking to Yasmin, POC, especially Black people have been sexualised due to white supremacy. The "allosexual privilege" framework fails to acknowledge this because Black people's sexual attraction and sex is seen as aggressive and animalistic. Black people aren't "allowed" to be ace because of this sexualisation and why Yasmin regardless of what she wears or does is seen is too promiscuous.

Not acknowledging ace POC as ace rep. Again, where was the acknowledgement of Selah and the Spades as groundbreaking rep? The first aroace darkskin Black girl as a lead in any film? Sherronda J Brown spoke about Big Mouth's Black ace character and someone said it didn't count just bc they dislike the show. Again with Abbi and Fei the community didn't make noise for them like they did Todd from Bojack Horseman or Florence from Sex Ed (mind you the gap between how they did Florence vs O is jarring in itself) Isaac from Heartstopper was inspirational for many aspecs and I wont take that away but the way he's instantly credited for ace representation when he has so little screentime compared to the others is wild.

Just tired tbh. "Listen to POC aces!" "POC aces are valid!" Prove it then...?

[abbyromanoff]

I had a bit of a cnc stoner Wanda thought where she coaxes you into trying her special treat & holds a blunt to your lips, all before proceeding to get high as well & lazily play with your clit <3

Try It

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: 4314

Warnings: smut, jealously, possessiveness, edging, kinda public sex, college AU, strap on use, edging, crying, weed usage, small cnc, mommy kink, multiple orgasms, thigh riding, begging, sub!r, Dom!wanda, emo Wanda, mentions of pervert Wanda, mentions of porn, small angst, homophobia, praise kink

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Wanda walked into her class, luckily she only had two today. She took the seat next to you, making you turn to look at her. Her hand made its way to your thigh, she admired the way you worriedly looked to see if anyone would notice. You were always like that. It’s not like you were ashamed of her, no, you loved to be seen around with your girlfriend. But sometimes, the bold moves she’d make were too much for the public eye. The occasional grab of the ass, her hand placing itself on your thigh like she was doing now, you didn’t want people seeing. Especially not your parents.

You two met when you were children. Seeming as your parents were best friends, it was hard not to be around each other at all times. You and her brother always were closer, your parents always said you two would get married one day. He was also the first person you came out to, and the first you informed of your crush on his sister. He wasn’t the happiest, but he got over it. You can still hear all the ‘Wanda and Y/N sitting in a tree’ jokes, or how he’d wrap his arms around him and pretend he was making out with himself to mock you two.

Your mother and father never knew of your sexuality, especially not since your dad was the priest. He was loved by everyone, except you. Wanda would always be the one to comfort you when you were confused, she knew what it was like to deal with unsupporting parents. Unlike you, she found a way to get away from it all, weed.

While you did student councils and spelling bees, she’d escape the world by smoking. Her grades would slip as yours exceeded, you needed the academic validation. Wanda didn’t care anymore, she just wanted to live her teenage years by having fun.

Whenever you had study dates, she’d end up convincing you to stop and watch a movie with her. She’d usually offer you a joint, only for you to quickly dismiss it. You would never be allowed back into your home if they ever found out you smoked, they’d quite literally kill you.

You and Wanda first started dating back in your senior year of high school. After years of pining over one another, she nervously asked you to prom where you both shared your first kiss in the girls' bathroom. Your parents obviously would never let you go to the dance with a woman, so Pietro offered to pretend as though he’d take you if you got him a date with a girl in your honors society club.

And ever since then, you and Wanda have been inseparable. You both got accepted into the same college luckily, the one you’ve been dreaming of going to since you were a little kid. Wanda always was one to go out to parties and skip class, but you were the same as your high school years, getting all A’s on every assignment you did. Your professors all loved you, not so much your girlfriend though. But you didn’t care. If Wanda were to ask you to skip class with her, more often than not you’d say yes. If she dragged you to a party, you’d end up making out in her truck by the end of it. One time, she took you to a frat house and had you wasted by the end. You woke up with a tattoo of the letter W in between your middle finger. She already had your name tattooed on her wrist, you scolded her the day you first saw it.

Everyone started rolling into class, some late, some just barely making it. Wanda never moved her hand, and the small smirk covering her face never left. Your best friend and head of the debate team sat on the other side of you, Kate Bishop. Wanda never seemed to like her, she always said she was too much of a priss or that she wanted to get in your pants. She said that about everyone, actually. Kate gave you a look with a small smile, Wanda flipped her off behind your back. She rolled her eyes, pulling out her notebook before starting small talk between you too. Your girlfriend rested her head on your shoulder, trying to distract you from your conversation with small pecks to your neck.

“Wanda! We’re in the middle of a lecture!” You scolded in a small whisper, turning back to your friend and giving an apologetic smile. Wanda sighed, frustrated by your actions. You were such a goodie two shoes. Sometimes your friends wondered how you two ended up together, and if you were being honest, you didn’t know either. I guess two opposites attract.

“But I don’t care about this dumbass class. C’mon, what do you say me and you head out of here? Come back to my place?” You threw your head back slightly, annoyed by the same words she said every day. “Oh c’mon, please? We can have some fun?” You chose to ignore her instead, trying your best to listen in on the professor’s words. She didn’t stop though, if anything, she teased you more. Her hand had traveled further up your leg, playing with the hem of your panties under your skirt. You tried to discreetly push her off, struggling to write your notes down. Your face was cherry red, and Wanda was grinning.

“Now do you want to leave?” She asked hopefully, just wanting to get out of this boring class already.

“Nope.” Your thigh jumped up and down as you picked at your lips, looking around nervously to see if anyone could see her fingers moving your panties to the side. You closed your legs to the best of your ability, only to no avail. She pushed them back open, giving a harsh grab as a warning.

“At least let me have some fun, baby.” You looked at her like was crazy. You let out a small moan under your breath as the pads of her fingers rubbed your clit ever so gently. You hid any noise with a small cough or fake sneeze, Wanda would always say bless you as if she didn’t know what was going on. She acted innocent. And you hated it.

“Wanda, we can’t do this here.” She leaned into your ear, making sure the professor was facing the board so he couldn’t see you two.

“Then let's leave, princess. We can head back to my place where I’ll properly fuck you.” She grabbed your hand, placing it on her crotch as you felt a small bulge. She was packing. You retreaded your hand quickly, your cheeks a cherry red. She chuckled dryly, you hoped she would remove her digits but she didn’t, she just left them there. She didn’t move them, they just sat there as if wanting you to do the work instead. You couldn’t stop the small buck of your hips, chasing after her like she was holding your favorite candy. You wished you could wipe that smug look off her face.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, meet me in a few minutes.” And you did. The professor looked at you puzzled when you both left, Wanda covering by saying you had ‘girl problems’ making both you and the man blush. She dragged you into the nearest stall, pushing you against the door and kissing you fiercely, she wished that Kate could walk in and see how wet you were for her. Her fingers trailed beneath your skirt, the way she did just moments ago. Her fingertips grazed your clit through your panties, barely touching you just to see how you react.

“Mommy, please.” You whined and begged, hoping she’d have some sort of mercy on you. She didn’t. She wanted to make you as desperate as she was, she wanted to watch you wither.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby. Is this all for mommy? Has she gotten you all worked up?” You nodded and looked down shamefully, the embarrassment overtaking you. She gripped your chin, making you look at her with pleading eyes.

“Y-yes, it’s all for you, mommy.” She hummed and dropped to her knees, you gave her a look of shock before she gave a small lick to your center.

“Did mommy get you all horny and desperate?” When not receiving a response, she looked back up at you. Your hands folded behind your back and your legs parted just enough for her to get between them, you were such a shy girl. She suddenly stood up, making you look at her with confusion before she walked past you and to the door of the bathroom. She looked back at your shaken-up state,

“You coming?” Yeah, you would be. You both walked back into class, Wanda following shortly behind you. Some gave you disapproving glances, others trying not to look at you and have to deal with Wanda’s wrath.

When the painfully slow class finally ended, Wanda threw her bag onto the floor of her and Pietro’s apartment. She didn’t exactly want to live with her brother during college, the two of them would often bring girls back home making it awkward. But she couldn’t do much about it, she could barely even afford to live here.

She was having a stressful day, And all she wanted to do at that moment was call you up or get high, her two favorite things. She knew you’d probably be studying or doing homework, but she also knew you were thinking about her. About the wetness coating your inner thighs. She could see it right now, you rubbing your thighs together, finding any way to get yourself off. Shyly playing with your clit, teasing your hole with a finger. You probably wouldn’t even be able to fit a digit inside of your tight hole, she can barely even fit her strap inside of you.

Luckily, Pietro wasn’t going to be home for the next week as he was visiting their mom and dad. So, she grabbed the small jar of weed in her nightstand drawer, taking the paper and rolling up the small joint. Her favorite thing to do was have you roll it, watching the way you tried your best only for it to be close to falling apart. She’d chuckle, and you’d pout back at her. But you never smoked with her, you refused.

She lit the joint and took a long drag, puffing out smoke into the humid living room. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was better than nothing. The playboys that were left out a few days ago plagued her mind. She stood up, balancing herself before grabbing one and going back to the living room. She undressed her bottom half, too lazy to take off her shirt as she got right into it. Her fingers teased her clit as she flipped through the pages, the naked woman only making her think about you more.

“Mm, fuck Y/N. Such a good little girl for me.” She moaned out into the empty room, not caring if she was just talking to herself. The weed was getting to her, goosebumps spreading across her body.

Before she could go any further, her phone rang, the bright light illuminating the dark room. She sighed and looked at the contact, her mood immediately lifting when seeing the caller. She answered on the fourth ring, her raspy voice making you shiver.

“Yes, baby?” She could hear your moan from the other side of the call, smirking to herself when realizing what you were doing.

“Baby, are you touching yourself?” You only nodded before remembering she couldn’t see you. Your clit throbbed as you rode the small teddy bear she got you for your anniversary, picturing it was her strap you were riding instead. Your hips only gained speed hearing her on the other end, the fear she wouldn’t like this going away when you heard her groaning. She hit the facetime button, wanting to see your weeping cunt on the fluffy fur of the stuffed animal.

“C’mon princess, let mommy see you.” Your camera was placed at the end of your bed, giving a full view of your bottom. She could see your head looking back at one place continuously, probably making sure your dorm mate wouldn’t walk in anytime soon.

“Oh sweetheart, are you scared someone will see you? What do you think would happen if they walked in right now? You think they’d stay and watch you whoring yourself out on the phone?”

“Mommy, need you.” She ticked, taking another puff of her joint before speaking up once more.

“You never answered my question, sweetheart. Tell me, what would you do if someone walked in right now to see you like this, so sweet and innocent riding the teddy bear I got you? Would you stop? Or would you keep going for me, for mommy?” You wished you could say no, that you’d never let anyone see you all needy and vulnerable. But that would be a lie. The thought alone brought more discomfort to your body, the good kind of discomfort.

“Mommy, I-I think I need to cum.” You whined out, chasing the high you prayed she would finally give you.

“Oh, honey, you wanna cum?” You nodded fastly, the stuffed animal being coated with your slick. She hummed, acting as if she was deciding.

“Hmm, no.” She hung up before you could complain, knowing you wouldn’t bring yourself to finish if she denied you. Her whole plan was just to get you to come over, then she could see you once more. She’d be the one to make you cum, not your teddy bear.

Ten minutes later, she heard a small but rushed knock at her flat. She smirked, knowing who it was, and stood up, opening the almost completely broken door. There you stood, clutching close to your skirt as you tried getting past her and going inside.

“You missed me that much.” You tackled her with a kiss, desperate to have her on you somehow.

“Please, mommy, I’m so wet and sticky down there.” She smiled sweetly at you before walking you backwards, sitting you down on the couch, and towering over you.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve taken care of you.” Tears flooded your eyes as she gave you a seemingly innocent pout.

“Y-you hung up on me! I was so close and you just hung up!” She sat down, grasping your hips and tossing one of your legs over her own. Her fingers trailed under your skirt, her other hand forcing you to stay open for her. She felt a damp wet spot marking your panties, gasping as she realized you weren’t lying, you were actually that horny.

“Oh my, you’re dripping all over me! You’re gonna ruin my couch, baby.” She saw the way you eyed her small jar of weed, looking back at her with pleading eyes.

“You want to try some?” She was beyond excited when you gave a shy nod, making you your own to try.

“Alright, just take it between your lips and- yeah, that’s it. Just breathe in, and blow it out.” You coughed harshly, feeling embarrassed when hearing Wanda laughing at you. Her hands wandered around your body, grabbing your ass hidden beneath your schoolgirl skirt in her hands. She moaned under her breath and stuck her head in your neck, smelling the cologne of hers that you took.

“This precious little ass, so perfect.” She groped you without any shame, not caring for the whimpers that would leave your mouth.

“Mommy, tastes funny.” She nodded, patting your back to help you get it all out. She bounced you up and down like she was burping a baby, you were her baby. Her innocent little doll. And she fucking loved it.

No matter how hard she tried to resist it, she needed to fuck your sweet cunt. She needed to mark it as hers, have you know that you belong to her and only her.

“Doll?” She whispered, receiving a small hum in return, “Mommy really needs you right now, can you be good and let mommy play?” You felt so used, like she had ruined you for anyone else. You could see the imprint in her pants, the same one from earlier. Her bottoms were already unbuttoned, her boxers being the only thing left to stop you from riding her strap. You could tell what she wanted, she wanted to hear you beg. Plead her for her cock. And you wanted to give in, but you so badly wanted to show her that you didn’t need her. To make her realize that you didn’t survive off of her fucking you, and that it was just a pleasure.

So, you shook your head, seeing the small smirk on her face falter in the slightest. “What do you mean no? I thought you were just begging to be fucked by me.” She knew how to get under your skin, and you hated it.

“I mean, no. I don’t need you touching me every second, you don’t always have to be so goddamn horny, Wanda.” You faked a huff and crossed your arms over your chest. The woman held back her laugh, finding your clear lie funnier than she should.

“Oh, sweetheart, you know that’s not my name. I thought you were smart enough to know this by now, because you need me. You need me to fuck this pussy every second. You need to be dripping with my cum every second. And you need mommy to touch you every fucking second.” Her lip went between her teeth, the muscles in her face clenching as you stared into her reddened and droopy eyes. She was high out of her mind, and you hated to say you loved it.

“Tell me the truth. You want mommy to fuck you, we both know you do.” You tried getting off her lap to no avail. She had a strong hold over you, and not just physically. When you didn’t answer, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and leaned back into your neck. She grazed her tongue against the skin, watching as goosebumps erupted over your entire body. Her arms stroked your inner thighs reaching close to your covered cunt.

“Tell me, my love. Tell mommy how much you need me.” You couldn’t care to deny it anymore. As much as you wanted to put up a fight, you knew you needed her on you, inside of you.

“I want it so bad, mommy, I really do!” She hummed into you, her teeth biting the shell of your ear.

“Yeah? But I thought you were just telling me you don’t?”

“I’m sorry, mommy, I really am! I-I need it, I do!” Her thigh was covered in your slick as you slid back and forth, the soft skin beneath you quickly becoming an addiction. Your hand placed itself on her bulge, feeling the toy straining and begging to be inside of you. The blunt returned to its spot between her fingertips, taking a long drag before puffing it out in your face. It smelt horrible yet amazing at the same time. Knowing that the smoke came from her made it all the more attractive.

“You want mommy’s dick? You want to be stretched out, baby?” Your nod wasn’t good enough for her, she wanted you to beg. She wanted you to beg her just to even touch you.

“Words, my love, words.” You had trouble forming a sentence. The overwhelming feeling of her soft and plushy thigh beneath you was too much. Your orgasm hit like waves. It was strong, powerful even. You were shocked she didn’t ruin it, she just watched with heavy and hungry eyes.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me. You get me so hard.” She let out a loud moan once she finished speaking. You both knew she couldn’t actually get hard, but she loved pretending she had a real dick. She loved acting as though she could feel you clenching around her because fuck, she wishes she could. She wanted to feel you as you came around her cock.

“My god, you’re so fucking hot, my love.”

“Thank you, mommy.” She laughed in your face, something you didn’t expect. You thought you were done, that she’d let you calm down and sleep. But she couldn’t get enough of you, she needed you so badly.

“You’re welcome, princess, But, I think you owe me another one, don’t you?” You only nodded along, losing grip on reality as you plummeted to the pleasure. You moved your hips upwards and rested yourself above the tip of her length. If you had to guess it was probably close to seven inches, it had to be the largest piece you’ve taken so far. The second the head of her cock entered you, you already felt full.

“Mommy, too big!” Your whines amused the woman who did not care to remove her hands from your hips. She was guiding you to go lower, to be filled to the brim just how she liked.

“Oh, darling, you can take it. You’re my big girl! You take whatever mommy gives you, right?” She was manipulating you, and you thrived off of it. You loved the satisfaction of her forcing you to do what she wanted.

“Yes! Yes, I take what mommy gives me!” She hummed in response, eyes focused on your weeping cunt. You were dripping and she just wanted a taste. As much as she loved weed, you’d always be her favorite taste. You were her favorite little girl.

“Oh, baby! You take my dick so well! And I’m not even helping, such a smart girl you are.” You soaked in her praises, eyes closed and mind fuzzy. You couldn’t think, she was the only thing clouding your mind.

“Thank you, mommy. Thank you for fucking me.” She kissed the side of your face before leaning down and capturing your hard nipples in her mouth. Her tongue played with the bud, a small trail of saliva being left behind as she moved on to the other.

Your hips started grinding desperately, already nearing the edge once more. You knew she’d make you hold it, not letting you cum till you begged her helplessly.

“Princess, does mommy’s little girl need to cum? Are they that dumb and fuzzy and need their mommy?” She didn’t let your small nod be your only answer. She wanted to hear just how much you needed her, how wet you were for her and only her.

“Doll, you know mommy doesn’t like when her girl is ignoring her. Tell me, do you need to cum?” The tone of her voice would never match the cold expressions she’d have painted on her face. The black makeup she wore and leather jackets she’d drape over her shirt. Most of the time, you ended up being the one to wear her coat, she loved seeing you wear it more than anything. But, seeing you wear nothing but her jacket? God, it fucked her in the head. Her mind would short-circuit seeing your tits bouncing under her clothes.

“I-I need to cum, mommy. Please let me cum for you?” The coil in your stomach was closer to snapping than ever before. Feeling her strap deep in your walls had you clenching hard.

“That was weak, darling. C’mon, beg mommy.” No words could explain how embarrassed you were. You knew she loved it, but fuck was it difficult. You could barely even muster out words let alone plead her. But you knew you had to if you wanted the release you were chasing.

“Please, mommy! Please fuck me! I want to cum so bad, want you to breed me. Want you to fuck a baby in me, mommy, please!” She pondered for a moment. As much as she wanted to edge you all night till you were crying and shaking, she wouldn’t be that cruel to her angel. Her sweet thing needed to finish, and she’d let them.

“Do it for me. Fucking cum for your mommy.” She growled out next to your ear, feeling your legs shaking on top of her own. She leaned back to watch as she took another hit of her blunt. She wishes she’d taken a photo along with all of the Polaroids of your nude body she has. It was kept in a shoe box under her bed next to the playboys she’d forgotten about. Every night she missed your precious body and you were asleep on the phone, she’d masturbate to your photos. The ones with cum dripping down your legs. The ones with markings of ‘mommy’s slut’ on your stomach. The ones with hickeys coating your neck and tits. And especially the ones she had taken of your blissed-out face. How she could stare at those all day and still miss you.

“That’s a good girl, so good for me. You did so well, took all of them so damn well.” You mumbled out your appreciation before taking the small blunt out of her hands. You took a small swig to impress her, only receiving a small lip bite in return. She didn’t know how she ended up with the hottest little slut, but she did. And you were all hers. No matter how much the others talked about you, you both knew at the end of the day, she was the one making you cum. She was the one pounding you with her fingers or her strap. You were all hers, and that’s how it would always be. You were her sweet little dove.

“That’s a good girl, so good for me. You did so well, took all of them so damn well.” You mumbled out your appreciation before taking the small blunt out of her hands. You took a small swig to impress her, only receiving a small lip bite in return. She didn’t know how she ended up with the hottest little slut, but she did. And you were all hers. No matter how much the others talked about you, you both knew at the end of the day, she was the one making you cum. She was the one pounding you with her fingers or her strap. You were all hers, and that’s how it would always be. You were her sweet little dove.

[adickaboutspoons]

Tea Soup and Sympathy

There’s already been plenty going around fandom about the significance of soup this season, so I’ll just condense soup discourse down and summarize that it’s about love and nourishment. But sometimes, soup is not real soup.

When we first meet Zheng Yi Sao, she is posing as Susan the Soup Merchant. But before the end of the episode, it’s revealed that her soup-slinging ways are all artifice.

And just as soup is love, this Yi Sao’s soup-slinging pretense is indicative of the fact that she uses the semblance of sympathy to manipulate people to her own ends. Let’s look at the case study of her interaction with John Bartholomew: Having successfully sacked his ship, she gets news that he wants to shoot himself, but only with the captain that bested him watching. Yi Sao attends the cabin of of the clearly panicking John with Stede and Olu in tow, and lets John show his ass with his inground racist and misogynistic assumptions; with him first identifying the white guy as the captain, then the MOC, and finally the WOC. In spite of the insult, Yi Sao meets him with the contrivance of compassion to give validation his heightened emotionally volatile state, acknowledgement of the cultural assumptions that are making this a particularly difficult defeat for him to accept, but also plays INTO his misogyny by suggesting that if he follows through with killing himself that his final deed in life with be the (implicitly shameful) act of surrendering to a woman.

Once she has gotten him to a place where he feels like someone is listening to him AND understanding where he’s coming from, and shamed out of taking his own life, she applies the social lubricant to foster that warm, fuzzy feeling of camaraderie by suggesting they have drinks.

Pay close attention to the language she’s using when she’s talking John around. After John complains that he’s just trying to feed his crew, and maybe make a little extra money on the side, Yi Sao jumps in with more affirming statements to demonstrate that she understands and appreciates the obstacles he’s facing in obtaining his goals, and concludes with a restatement of his thesis:

“Sure, but they won’t let you. The Spanish, the Dutch, the fucking English! Everyone is cracking down on the little guy! Like, hello! How’s a pirate supposed to make a living?”

Having established that she understands where he’s coming from, she starts the bridge-building portion of her agenda; inviting him to identify with her because of common interests, but simultaneously downplaying her authority, AND using a rhetorical question to which he can easily agree in order to prime him to continue agreeing with her further down the line:

“I don’t speak for everyone, but I didn’t get into this business to fight other pirates, did you?”

She’s also using neurolinguistic programming: all the while that she’s talking to him, she’s reaching her hand out to him - a gesture that mimics the way she is metaphorically reaching out to him, and inviting him to reach back. She then floats a hypothetical that ALSO is easy to say “yes” to, but posing it as a question rather than an order to encourage him to buy into the idea rather than just submit to it:

“What if we could all work together, support each other?”

From here, she plays coy - feigning reticence to float an idea as though it’s TOO audacious, and employing a little false modesty, suggesting her idea is stupid, to not only, once again, play into John’s misogynistic zeitgeist, but to allow him to feel that, when she DOES give voice to her ultimate plan, he can feel like HE won one over on HER by enticing it out of her.

“I don’t know… be, um…Oh! Forget it! It’s stupid. What if… What if we could be partners?”

And that, ladies, gentlemen, and those betwixt and beyond, is how you get someone to cheerfully buy into their own subjugation in the coming invasion.

And make no mistake - invading and conquering the Caribbean IS what Yi Sao is after. She's not looking for partners - she's looking for subordinates. She’s very clear about that with Stede back aboard the Red Flag.

Her soupy subterfuge in the Republic of Pirates was a reconnaissance mission to scope and get info on the local talent in order to try and get them to either join her or die. But she’s not picky either way. Her red flag fleet is already making its way over land at the isthmus of Panama. This IS going to happen. So are you on-board or not?

“Okay,” I hear you say (or not. I don’t know you well enough to put words in your mouth), “but she’s really nice to her crew, providing them with gentle exercise and kind words and soup that, according to all the Caribbean pirates who taste it, is so good it might be the best thing they’ve ever tasted. What makes you think it’s manipulation and artifice, and not the real thing. Maybe she’s just actually compassionate, but her compassion has its limits - the proverbial iron fist in a velvet glove, as it were?”

Because we’ve already seen this behavior before. Using alcohol to lower inhibitions, using both shame and sympathy to motivate participation, using neurolinguistic programming to let the other party think that THEY’RE the one driving the action, and even being calculatedly withholding to make people think they’ve won something when they extract it from you:

That’s right. It’s Calico Jack, the master manipulator (RIP, asshole) all over again. But whereas Jack leaned further on the typically masculine end of the shame-to-sympathy scale with bullying and establishing himself as a subject matter expert, Yi Sao is coming at it from a decidedly more typically feminine place, encouraging self-identification and downplaying her strengths and contributions. But Yi Sao also ups the game transforming into what the other person needs her to be to close the deal. With Jackie the bossbitch businesswoman, Yi Sao is the Money Bitch. With John Bartholomew the prototypical pirate drowning in toxic masculinity, she’s a feminine fount of sympathy and understanding who, gosh, just CAN’T be sure that her silly little ideas are any good unless a big, strong man affirms that for her. And with Stede, she’s a girl-friend who has BEEN THERE and wants to dish about his toxic ex and all the complicated feelings about that.

So when we hear:

It should immediately throw red flags, both for us AND Stede. He was THERE when she used this voice with John Bartholomew. There might not be any liquor, but she KNOWS that Stede has said that he encourages this kind of “talking it through” behavior, so she doesn’t need to get him to buy into it first. Instead, she launches directly into the same kind of tactics she employed before. She hears Stede say “[The crew] couldn’t keep living like that. Ed can be quite troubled.” Out come the affirming statements to demonstrate that she understands where he’s coming from, and restatement of his thesis: “You must feel so weird. Like you’re glad he’s alive, but then he did all this evil shit to your friends?”

Then on to bridge-building (literally and figuratively - look how she reaches out to clasp him on the shoulder) to invite identifying with her: “I’ve dated my fair share of guys on ‘Wanted’ posters.They’re hot.”

She doesn’t bother with downplaying her authority, because Stede has just confessed to being a novice in terms of romance, but she is so calculated with her wording, floating a scenario that invites Stede to come up with a solution for: “But it always ends in a massacre and then the wrong people get hurt.”

So when she “caves” to his suggestion of “Maybe we could avoid that happening here?” with “I AM feeling a little merciful today,” it begs the question:

What, exactly, was going to be the price of this “mercy” if Auntie hadn’t interrupted?

So Roach isn’t wrong when he praises the soup they get aboard the Red Flag as “Beautiful, complicated, and balanced.” It IS a complicated act, an artfully balanced deception, and beautiful in its artifice. It HAS to look better and more enticing than the real thing. Because it will never give you the actual nourishment you need.

[lady-embers]

I think a lot of people continuously overlook the GOOD Nesta did during the series and only focus on her "hateful attitude". Sometimes actions show more than words and Nesta is an action girly.

ACOTAR- She tried to protect Feyre in the market. She went after Feyre when Tamlin took her. She essentially told Feyre to go and save Tamlin and not to worry about them. She was ready to marry someone to help have one less mouth to feed for Feyre. She chopped wood for two days in a row.

Also, I think this quote is important from book 1 from Feyre about Nesta:

"I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn't stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory.... Who had shrouded the loss of our mother, then our downfall, in icy rage and bitterness, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she HAD cared - beneath it, she had cared, and perhaps, loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally."

ACOMAF - She wasn't in here much but both her and Elain opened their home to Feyre and the IC for the war purposes when they were taught their whole life to be scared/fear the fae and ended up turned against their will for their efforts which is incredibly traumatic.

ACOWAR - Nesta helped with the Queens and the High Lords. She helped Feyre and the whole Raven attack thingy. She participated in the war and almost died trying to save Cassian and then beheaded Hybern. She then helped tend to the wounded and dieing. She really had no time to sort through her own trauma during this time either since she was looking after comatose Elain and in a place where she didn't want to be.

ACOFAS - We see her drowning in her trauma. She can't even take baths (which Feyre had said in ACOWAR she'd help with as she never thought about how the Cauldron affected them). She is invited to party with rent money held over her head (despite the fact she had a job as human emissary during the war so where is the money promised to her from accepting that job from Rhysand?) While there, Feyre remarks how uncomfortable Nesta is but doesn't both to wonder why, and come to find out fire bothers her because it reminds her of her father's neck snapping RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. Cassian runs after her and even though she wants to be alone she's hounded and is seen as the bad guy for not taking his gift. A gift he proceeds to throw away, like a child, into the water because she didn't take it...At this point she just wanted to be left alone and they kept hounding her and not respecting boundaries she was putting up.

ACOSF - She is still drowning..she is forced into the HOW (feyre said she'd be tied and thrown there essentially so it wasn't really a choice) where she has to walk down 10,000 steps (which she physically/mentally/emotionally could not do so she was essentially a prisoner since no help was offered by feyre and Amren own words and let's not forget those same steps were used as punishment for Rhysand and the bat boys)..she starts training though and finds her own found family in Gwyn and Emerie. She helps the IC multiple times with things in ACOSF to and even saves Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx very lives. She even says sorry to Feyre and Feyre doesn't hold anything against Nesta, not even telling her about the babies wings because at least she told her. We also find out she tried to write letters to others to help during their poverty times and her boots weren't as new as Feyre made then out to be showing Feyre as an unreliable/biased narrator.

All in all, I wouldn't say Nesta is an absolutely terrible horrible nasty person that is beyond redemption or forgiveness.

She is a woman who has been traumatized from a very young age starting with her mother/grandmother to being turned fae to PTSD from war/her father and doesn't know how to cope so she lashes out (which is a VALID TRAUMATIC RESPONSE) to push others away because she HATES herself more than anyone else does. She knew lashing out was wrong but didn't have the tools/upbringing to know healthy responses. It's really not until Gwyn and Emerie came along and showed her UNCONDITIONAL LOVE that she began to change and learn better and new healthy coping mechanism to let go of the bad ones.

Now, I'm not saying her trauma response was good or acceptable or excusable, but I do think she deserves some grace and compassion given all she's been through herself. Trauma is not a comparison game after all and we all experience and cope differently. Just like these characters.

Artist is Crisol Crowling or crisolcrowling on IG!

[neteyamslovrr]

MIRRORBALL

summary: you were always there to pick up lo'ak after he breaks into a million pieces.

1.4k words. fem!omaticaya reader. angst to fluff. i love lo'ak.

────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

Lo’ak yearned for praise. He yearned for validation. He yearned for someone to soothe his back as he racked sobs out of his ribs after another scolding. He wants someone to look at him. To see him.

He’d do anything for it, change his ways, change his habits, change anything about himself to have someone for him. The constant discipline and scolding, it felt never ending. He wanted to be free of his shortcomings and failures that loomed over him.

Even if he tried to be the best version of himself to fit the person he was with, it never worked. That was except for you.

The thought of you made his heart swell, his chest rise, and cheeks heat up. You were there every time he broke into a million pieces. You picked them up and reassembled them so he could shine once again for you.

Now he hoped you were going to put him back together again. Because his constant efforts to been seen had resulted in harsh words from his father.

“What were you thinking?!” His father’s voice boomed, it echoed throughout the entire cave, ringing in all of the people’s ears. “Was going into the battlefield not enough for you last time?! So, you ventured to the place I FORBID you to be! Do you intend to bring shame to us all or is it just your natural instinct?”

Jake’s harsh words caused everyone around to let out a small gasp. Lo’ak couldn’t look up, his eyes fixated on the dirt surrounding his feet. He felt heavy, like a burden. He was a burden.

“Jake! That’s enough.” Neytiri scowled at her husband, noticing her youngest sons shaking figure, a sore attempt of covering the tears leaving his eyes. Lo’ak tried to stay stoic in front of his family when this happened, but it was his breaking point.

“You are dismissed.” The venom dripping off his father’s tongue was enough to make him flinch. You watched as his cowering figure walked off, ignoring all attempts from his siblings to gain his attention. He couldn’t bare anyone to see him like this. He was just trying to impress his parents. He wanted to show them what they wanted in a son. But all it was a laughable attempt of validation.

You followed him as he ventured to a secluded part of the caves. Up in a little pocket of rock that had been hollowed out by time is where he found it a calming place to reside in when the forest was too hostile.

“Lo’ak?” Your voice was weary, hoping Lo’ak would accept your presence. But who were you kidding, you were the only person he wanted to see right now, and you were obviously the only person who wanted to see him.

He didn’t say anything but scoot over to make space for you, a small gesture welcoming you into his secret space.

Sitting beside him, you laid a caring hand on his knee that was huddled into his chest as he hugged himself, facing away from your concerned gaze. “I’m sorry your father said that too you.”

Lo’ak’s breath hitched. He was trying so so so hard not to break in front of you, but his efforts were weak. Just like him.

“He wasn’t lying.” A quiet rumble from his chest was his voice as he spoke quietly, filled with shame.

Open eyes gazed at him. Moving your hand from his knee to his face turning his solemn face towards you. “Nothing he said to you was true Lo’ak. Not a single bit.” The truthfulness in your eyes made Lo’ak feel as if he was going to burst. Even when he was close to breaking you still found a way to make his heart swell.

“I wanted to show them that I could hunt. Hunt just as well as everyone else.” He sounded meek, his voice barely above a whisper avoiding his voice cracking.

“You are an amazing hunter Lo’ak.” He smiled at your compliments, leaning into your soft touch.

“I understand that I am not a natural at everything like Neteyam. But I try and try and try for them to see my efforts and it never works. It’s like my father expects me to disappoint him.”

“I see your efforts Lo’ak.” His tongue clicked on the top of his mouth, a roll of the eyes as he started to part from your soft palm.

“You are just saying that.”

“I am not. I see you wake earlier than every other hunter, I see the way you track animals like a prodigy. I see your efforts Lo’ak, it is their fault they are too blind to see yours as well.” Your other hand was now resting on his other cheek, ensuring he looked into your eyes as you comforted him with sincerity.

He felt his walls crashing down, you were not like everyone else. You did not drunkenly revel in watching him fail, you aimed to soften his shattered edges. “Y/N…”

“You are not a shame to your family. You are no disappointment. You are Lo’ak. Son of Toruk Makto, mighty warrior with a mighty heart.” Your hand rested on his beating heart. He felt it thrash against his ribcage as his pupils dilated with love as he stared into you.

He felt the tears fall onto his cheeks. He hasn’t never heard such kindness in so long. Your touch made him erupt with emotions, he has never felt so weak yet so strong at the same time. He felt like a match that was just lit, hot and burning.

“Y/N…” He could conjure nothing else in his mind but you, you waited patiently in front of him. Hopeful eyes and loving touches as you watched Lo’ak’s mouth open in close while thinking of how to respond to you.

“Yes Lo’ak.” Your voice rung in his head, like an intoxicating spell.

“Thankyou. Your words mean a lot. No. You mean a lot.” He felt as if he was shining again. How could you so flawlessly pick him up and put him back together everytime.

“You mean a lot to me too Lo’ak. You mean so much to a lot of people around here. Never forget that. Okay?” You traced your fingers down his chest and back up as he stared into you.

“Okay.” He was now the one holding your cheeks as your hands fixated on his body. Course thumbs caressing your soft cheeks, he felt at peace. He had found someone who kept looking at him, accepting him in every way.

“Lo’ak…” His touch on your skin was hot, burning. It was driving you crazy, feeling his affection through his touch.

“Yes…Yes Y/N?” He sounded drunk. More so drunk on the idea of you, the idea that you were the only one who went out of their way to find him. You cared for him so deeply and he couldn’t help but reciprocate those strong feelings.

“I see you.” The words stung on your tongue as they left your mouth. Sweating as the heat of the environment and tension between you two started to take its toll on you. You watched as Lo’ak’s pupils grew slightly, his mouth slightly agape as the hands on your cheeks slipped down to your waist.

“I see you.” His words barely left his mouth before your lips connected with his. Feverish kisses connecting the two of you. Hands roaming freely as each other’s touch felt fiery to the others skin.

Lo’ak couldn’t help the desperation in his body as his hand pulled you body into him. How was he to deny someone who understood him so well. He yearned for you even while you lips passionately sucked onto his own.

Air becoming scarce didn’t stop the two of you. The tension had been evolving for so long that the kiss felt euphoric. Desperate grabs and soft groans was all that was made until you gasped unlatching from the boy in front of you.

He put a finger to his swollen lips in disbelief, eyes wide as he stared at you with no less desire than before.

“Let’s stay here. I don’t want you to go yet.” He adjusted in his spot so you could lay on his chest. Turning to lay on top of him he wrapped his long arms around you, squeezing you tight hoping you would never go.

A small hand rested on top of his as you laid a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I never plan on leaving.”

────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

a/n: i loved this, i actually wrote it so quick. hope you enjoy!! like + reblogs + COMMENTS are literallyso appreciated i'll give u a smooch

tags: @netesbby @starkeysmoon @aonungmybf @melovehiddlestan @dngnmtr-blog @goodiesinthecloset21

[scullysflannel]

do you have thoughts on the closure arc?

I like it better in theory than in practice. That’s the short answer. Much longer answer below the cut:

The idea of it is exactly right: What matters in the Samantha arc is emotional closure. It’s less about the answers than it is about Mulder choosing to accept them. The X-Files is always looking further inward, blurring the line between belief and truth (one can create the other). Of course in the end what’s important is not for Mulder to hear what happened to his sister but to feel it.

And it’s gorgeous that he can feel it because Scully hears it. I just rewatched these episodes, and Mulder letting Scully learn the truth on his behalf really hits emotionally. It’s an acknowledgment that this is her quest too, and that she’s sunk her own costs, but it’s also representative of the fact that he can find closure now because he has the love in his life that he lost as a kid. I love this post from @iconicscullyoutfits: “he is secure in knowing he has another person who loves him the way that Samantha did.” That’s always been where this story was pointing.

Some other things I like: I like that it’s about a media circus, because The X-Files — like Mulder — feels the loss of Samantha so deeply that it makes the whole show feel like a counterpoint to what Scully calls “our own morbid fascination with the killing of an innocent.” It’s cheap to make that point by blatantly ripping from the JonBenét Ramsey headlines. But it matters that The X-Files isn’t morbidly fascinated by Samantha’s death. It grieves the loss of her. And it suggests the world isn’t set up for people who grieve like that, which makes the gift of Scully, who grieves with Mulder, more pronounced.

I also think "Sein und Zeit"/"Closure" does really well at doubling down on all of these ideas through Mulder’s mom’s suicide. Every single one of Mulder’s and Scully’s parents dies with something unsaid, some kind of mystery around them, and again, the challenge is to accept not having all the answers. The challenge is also to accept that sometimes the answers are ugly and sad. When Mulder grasps for a conspiracy that would give his mom’s death deeper meaning, it’s because he’s in denial of a more mundane truth. That’s a bold move from The X-Files after almost seven seasons of validating Mulder’s belief in a different conspiracy that would give his the loss of his sister deeper meaning. 

But first of all, if the idea is to strip down the story to the raw emotions underneath it — if the idea is to move past the conspiracy and accept the end result of it, which is that Samantha is dead — there’s way too much cluttering it up. Santa Claus, psychic visions, prophetic visions, walk-ins, ransom letters. It’s all over the place, and a lot of it doesn’t make sense, especially because there’s so much misdirection as they drag things out to fill two episodes. It’s noisy and confusing in a way that distracts from Samantha’s pain, and Mulder’s. It makes the emotional arc less clear.

Samantha’s story is only barely connected to Amber Lynn’s; the kids taken by the walk-ins don’t have much in common except being transformed into starlight (okay) to spare them a life of further suffering. I’m not totally against this concept if I don’t think too hard about it; it splits the difference between showing victims mercy and acknowledging that the world is awful, and the lack of evidence makes it a non-answer in a way that helps keep the story focused on how it feels. But it opens up a lot of questions about why only some kids are spared. I know Harold lampshades it — he asks why some have to suffer and not others — and I know fate being doled out unfairly is kind of the essence of being alive, but it’s a lot to brush over. 

Also, Samantha did suffer! Her story is tragic, as it should be, and the best scenes of these episodes are the ones that acknowledge that. Mulder reading Samantha’s diary is the best scene of the two-parter by far, followed by Scully talking to the nurse, because we finally get Samantha’s perspective and her voice after only seeing her through Mulder’s eyes all this time. That carries weight. It makes the loss more vivid. But I think it’s hurt by the fact that we’re meant to take getting spared by the walk-ins as a happy-ish ending. 

I’m not talking about Mulder’s relief at finding closure; that’s good. I’m talking about seeing visions of smiling kids and being told they’re “in a better place.” Basically, being taken by the walk-ins is just a metaphor for going to heaven. Maybe that’s the show combining Scully’s faith with Mulder’s; maybe the idea is that this is the only way Mulder could ever take comfort in his beliefs in the same way a religious person does. Maybe the idea is that it’s radical for him because it’s not like him. But they don’t play up that angle, at least not in the same way they do with Mulder’s mom’s death, so there’s not a lot of tension in what Mulder eventually decides to believe. 

It doesn’t feel like something is changing within Mulder as much as it feels like the writers couldn’t come up with a more original idea. The X-Files is usually so aware of how difficult it is to have hope, so I think if they were going to end this whole series-long arc by just having Mulder tell himself the same comforting story people have been telling themselves since the dawn of human history, they should at least address the fact that this is not like him. Maybe the walk-ins would play better if the whole story were less cluttered with distractions and more focused on Mulder fighting this emotional closure. But to me, the tone of the walk-in storyline, which is so full of everyone telling everyone “your child is okay!” just because they’re dead now, feels dismissive of everything Samantha went through in life. Her story gets lost.

I would have liked to see Mulder find what Scully says his mom wanted for him — to stop looking, to take away his pain (both things Scully wants for him!) — without defaulting to a standard vision of an afterlife as the most hopeful ending possible. I know saying “they could have done it this way instead” is the lowest form of criticism, but I’m going to do it: I think they could have told a lot of the same story about Samantha while giving her a normal, tragic death, as a teenager, because of all the testing that had been done on her. She was already abducted, so there’s already a supernatural element to her story without the walk-ins getting involved. And there’s a beautiful grace note in the nurse who treated her kindly; focusing more on the kindness she finally experienced in her last moments would give the story a humanism that would feel more true to the show.

Maybe I’m being unreasonable to expect The X-Files not to throw in something fantastic, and maybe I just wish they’d found a less saccharine way to visualize the dead kids in the end. They were backed into a corner by everything they’d already revealed, and it was bold of them to give Samantha an ending that challenged Mulder’s belief system at all. They had the right idea. I also love the idea of CSM showing up to claim Samantha and the entire universe conspiring to keep that from happening. I just think it would have been better if the universe were represented by a bunch of compassionate nurses who said “Enough.”

[b0tster]

ever since coming out, i’ve had a very difficult time inserting myself into the lgbt community, specifically the trans community. i don’t know why; i’ve just never felt like i belong in any specific place, like i’m not good enough or look “proper” enough to take part. i’m not sure if that’s rooted in how isolated i was a kid and teenager just trying to to sort through this stuff. but i can’t be that way any more, and i guess in seeking to view myself as more “valid” i’ve gone through a lot of personal changes. and despite my internalized feelings towards myself from my childhood and parents and society at the time, i’ve come to love and accept myself for the project that i am.

i guess i just wanted to get that out since we’re all doing this.

to the anon, i just want to say: i was in a similar situation for years and years. i first started questioning myself when i was a child. it got worse as i got older. eventually i learned to just shove it down and ignore it. as i got older though, and grew more autonomous, and grew as a person, i realized that those feelings never went away. and from 19-25, i just kept crushing them down, but every time took more and more out of me.

i came out to my sister in tears at like 12:30am in the office of my workplace. her response? “yeah no that checks out for you.”

i’ve never been more relieved or angry, or laughed so hard, at a response, but that was the push over the edge i needed. and i don’t want you to think any of us are directly telling you that you are trans, you should transition, blah blah blah.

i have a lot of regrets about how i handled my transition. i wish i had access to more information in the 90s and 00s. i wish i had people like those that are all over this website, encouraging me to look inside myself to see what was going on. i wish i had had all of you incredible people to talk to. i spent the better part of 26 years denying who i was because i was afraid of what it might mean, and because i didn’t have any base of knowledge to understand any of my feelings. i felt alone and isolated, in that tiny ass rural town in virginia. it wasn’t until i got to college that i really saw people like me, and even then i was too intimidated, too afraid to approach or talk to them.

anon, my only real advice to you would just be to talk. find people to talk to. talk to yourself if you have to. if you think they’re steps you want to take? give them a shot. you can always stop if it doesn’t jive with you.

i started transitioning at 28. i lost my hrt a year and a half later. i just got it back a month ago, and now at 31, i’m back at square one.

my biggest regret will always be, that i didn’t give myself the chance to be myself sooner. don’t rob yourself of that chance, anon, by hiding your light under a bushel. we’ll all be around. talk to us. talk to everyone you can, and you’ll learn a little more about yourself each time. i just wish someone had told me that sooner.

love all of you guys. 💜. thank you for giving me a place to put this, botster, and thank you anon and botster for giving me an excuse to share my story.

Thank you so much for your kind words. I don't even know how to properly respond to this 🥺

I know its not fully directed at me though. But this shows how important it is to be out and proud for those who are willing.

Having a platform where people feel safe enough to ask these questions is so important.

[howlsmovinglibrary]

You mentioned in the tags of a recent post what you’d change about Funny Story to make it a different book. Would you mind elaborating on what you meant by that? I’m curious!

hey anon, thank you for being a massive enabler bc this has in fact been my special topic for the last 48hrs.

I want to state off the bat that I still gave this book 4.75 stars. I really, really enjoyed it. That being said, I'd literally rewrite the entire thing to get it to 5.

Answer under the cut to avoid spoilers! (also shout out to @eldritchcow bc these ideas are not formed alone but through a series of ranting voice notes lmfao)

The premise of Funny Story is that two exes move in with each other after their partners run away together - the main character, Daphne, has her wedding cancelled as a result, and Miles, the love interest, also gets a pretty crap deal bc his girlfriend literally breaks up with him via A NOTE ON THE KITCHEN COUNTERTOP, before running off on holiday with another man (after they hook up AT HIS BACHELOR PARTY. DAPHNE AND MILES DESERVED TO DO VIOLENCE). Miles and Daphne move in together, a series of circumstances means that Daphne tells her ex they are now dating, and that Miles will be her plus to the NEW WEDDING that they have been INVITED TO.

Personally, I think this - two exes move in, fake date, develop feelings - is such a juicy set up for a novel, that it could carry the whole plot. But at about the halfway mark, a bunch of other stuff - family drama, friendship drama - is bought in for the third act conflict. The exes and all their drama fades to the background, and its no longer about this Very Juicy Set Up, which I think is a shame. I think that the premise could've carried the entire plot and that there was no need to bring in additional conflict... except that Emily Henry is known for adding conflicts outside of romance to her novels (creating well-rounded, 'feminist' characters - I'm not being mean, that is just the perception of it and what she is known for) and that this is thus more brand appropriate. By the same logic, it is 'less feminist' of me to argue that the book should've been more about the romance.

But it should've been more about the romance.

If I rewrote/re-edited this book, I would do the following.

Make Daphne and Miles be messier people. These two characters behave like FUCKING SAINTS, while their exes are awfully and affably evil. I've had multiple friends say that Daphne should've hit Peter (her ex) with a car. I don't necessarily think that would've been the way, but I think she should've made much more spiteful decisions. I think Henry is very concerned in stressing that these are Two Very Goody and Utterly Blameless main characters, but I think they should've gotten a little spite as a treat, actually.

And the spite they should've gotten as a treat is - fucking each other.

As is the way with romance books, there are certain 'acceptable thresholds' for smut/romance scenes. So I get it, I really do. But Daphne and Miles only bang once it's a healthy decision... and I'll be honest, it would've been sexier if they had had sex in an unhealthy place. (for the people who've read the book: kiss at the drunk night out with Gil, sex at the truck or before the truck, then Sex With Real Feelings at the point where they actually have sex)

If they had had sex out of spite/petty revenge first, then the entire plot of the book could've been around 'catching feelings' and this would still have been a totally valid character arc. I would've liked to have seen more questionable decisions that are still somewhat about the exes - more of the 'are we doing this for them or for ourselves?' conflict which is microdosed at the midway point - and then feelings developing, and then making the 'no I actually really like you so we can't do this for the wrong reasons anymore' be the final sex scene before the third act conflict

Two things would be vastly improved by this change: 1. a weird scene where Miles sees Daphne in her former wedding dress, and they really should've fucked? but they don't? because that would be the tiniest bit weird??? (like, slightly weird and messy, in such the smallest way, but I think it was sanitised down for that reason) 2. the fact that their exes break up and call-off their wedding off screen. Have them break up at the rehearsal dinner that Miles/Daphne are attending, actually. Then you have your third act conflict.

The third act conflict of Funny Story is insane, convoluted, and unrelated to the story, IMO. Is it still well written? YES. Emily Henry, you will always be famous. But my favourite parts of it were 1. both Miles and Daphne get caught in their exes' orbit as they break up, and this causes them both to doubt their relationship (shout out to Miles having such low self esteem that he automatically thinks they're back together, I understand you king) 2. Daphne fucks up a promise she made to a friend (but bc she's not allowed to be a bad person - see the first point - it's for totally understandable reasons), leading her to wonder if she's just become part of another couple, where she's swapped one man and his house for another man, and his house. I personally think that these VERY MINOR FOOTNOTES in what is ACTUALLY the third act conflict... are a third act conflict in and of themselves. And... if we go back to what I said about Emily Henry being known for Feminism™, the second part of that is a totally valid trope/feminist critique to dig into in depth that would, if given time to breathe, be 'on brand'.

In this book, Miles drives 2hrs to try and get Daphne's shitty dad to come back to her. Where is this energy, for Peter? I think, Miles should've punched Peter, as a treat. And Petra should've had more scenes, so that she actually had a personality beyond 'being hot'.

I think we should've had a messy wedding scene. Daphne and Miles are each others plus ones, but they never get to attend bc the wedding is called off. But that wedding?!!! or that rehearsal dinner?!!! IS THAT NOT THE STUFF THAT THIRD AT CONFLICTS DREAM OF???

TLDR - I think Funny Story should've had more sex, and been more about the romance premise and the kind of fucked up, messy choices and weird feelings that premise engendered. I think the third act should've been connected to pre-existing conflicts, instead of creating new ones. I think Miles and Daphne could've had a little revenge, as a treat. They should've allowed to be sexy and weird about it.

[fandom-space-princess]

Title: "Today my grandmother is 94 and does not love me."

[file under: pseudo-autobiographical short fiction. things that are neither essays nor poems.]

“Call your grandmother,” my father says. Over the phone his voice is a flat buzz. “It’s her birthday.”

———

The last time I spoke to my grandmother, she asked me if I know what will happen to me after I die. I admitted uncertainty. This was the wrong answer. My grandmother’s devotion is unassailable — her devotion to her God, that is, to her religion. Uncertainty is foremost among the many things devotion cannot abide.

She told me I did not love my family. I had no idea how to respond.

———

“She’d love it”

———

I do not call my grandmother. I am trying to write a piece of science fiction, by which I mean that I am daydreaming about Venus: imagining lofted cities adrift in the Venusian troposphere, skittering away between clouds like daughters cut free of their families.

Science (noun): knowledge, especially that gained through experience. Fiction (noun): something invented by the imagination or feigned.

Venus is always accepting prayers. You can petition her for adoration, validation, for partners of every kind to know you with wanting hands and willing minds.

When my grandmother looks at me she sees a ghost of the person she wishes I had become. Here I stand, miserable revenant thing, un-woman, in the place where she expected a granddaughter to stand. She does not know me. I think perhaps she never has.

———

“if you’d call.”

———

If I didn’t love my family, wouldn’t I know it?

(Science: a girl is born with all the eggs she’ll ever have. My grandmother’s body knew me while I was only potential within her not-yet-daughter.)

Evangelicals love eggs, because they love nothing so much in other people as the potential for them to become what the evangelical wants them to be.

Potential is what you call uncertainty when it wears its Sunday best. Genetic destiny is what you call the gifts you inherit from your grandmother: broad hips and the ability to carry a grudge, predisposition to diabetes and the inability to hold a single civil conversation with your distaff relatives.

I talk to my grandmother like I talk to god, which is to say: mostly in my head. Because I am trying to cultivate kindness of spirit, and given that an inclination to forgiveness was not among her heritable traits, I also pray that no one is listening. ———

My father tells me to call my mother’s mother. On this same subject, my own mother is silent.

———

(Fiction: one day, my family might know me for who I am, and find this person worthy.)

The heat, the pressure — to stand on the surface of Venus would destroy a person utterly. Science tells us that once, the goddess’ world may have had an atmosphere very like our own, before a runaway greenhouse effect rendered her planet uninhabitable to life in the forms we understand. My grandmother does not believe in climate change, but she does believe that the path I have taken through life has ruined me.

Someday soon I will ask a doctor to reach into my body and excise my own womb. I will complete the divorce from potential I began on the day I started to become my own person (on the day I was born). I am motherland to no one: I will bear no daughters.

———

My grandmother asks me if I love my family. I hand her a page torn from a Bible, on which every word is crossed out save “begot.”

[the-one-that-weeps]

i like ur words n thoughts. do more pls (if ur so inclined)

Hello! I'm so sorry I couldn't answer this sooner, I'm glad we're finally mutuals! I've heard many great things about you, it's a true honour!

Your wish is my command, I'll make sure my word smithing skills improve and develop in time :D

I heard you wanted me to specify more on the order of the characters in units, so I'll try to explain that a little bit!

Although I do consider the order of the units characters is exclusively chronological and these are just some instances of coincidence, I'm more than glad to explain:

The third characters in every unit are as follows: Honami, Airi, Akito, Nene and Ena. Their stories seem to gravitate towards validation.

The clear examples of this are the Shinonomes and Airi. Both Akito and Ena share a need to overcome obstacles on a treacherous path, they both suffer greatly over "not being enough" or "getting left behind by their teammates".

Airi is in a similar situation where she was left behind by other idols after she became a variety show idol. She quit the group after being called "average" (not good enough) by the manager.

Honami only ever wanted to not be hated by her peers. Chasing that validation, that "you're good enough", she basically erased her own wishes in order to be accepted.

And Nene is a little difficult, but let's remember she also struggles with self worth and could barely sing on a stage a year ago. She's also afraid she won't be good enough, she's also chasing validation and praise to become like her mentor.

The fourth characters in every unit (Rui and Toya being also the last ones to join in the main story) are as follows: Shiho, Shizuku, Toya, Rui and Mizuki. The theme that I believe connects them best is... Connection. Or, alternatively, reconnection.

Mizuki and Rui are quick to understand: they both have a past full of abandonment and ostracism. They eventually learn to reconnect with their unit and heal over time as well. They're also very tightly knit with the theme of understanding.

Toya's isn't as much about vbs as it is about music in general. Toya had a musical past outside of vbs, but his connection with music was twisted, it brought him pain. His theme isn't even "connection" as much as "reconnection", because Toya grows to love and cherish music again.

Shizuku also plays on this, she's been in an idol group prior to mmj, but she never connected with her teammates the way she did with mmj. Now, she isn't hated or despised anymore, she's not "just a pretty face" — she's herself, she's Shizuku, and Shizuku is the one to create bonds and connects.

And Shiho's is a story of loneliness too. Shiho is guilty for the Leoneed disbandment in the first place, and she almost makes them disband again in Resonating With You, too. She has a very hard time forging bonds with people and comes off as a loner, but she grows past that. She's still Shiho, of course, but she starts letting people in, embracing them, connecting with them.

If this theme doesn't suit your ocs in particular, the fourth characters also have a strong theme of "self" or "loneliness" to them! But that's more of a universal thing, i wouldn't dwell on it.

Anyhow, I hope this wasn't too messy and helped you! Thank you for your attention and becoming mutuals with me once again!

[horizon-verizon]

why is condal so committed to "Daemon has father issues"?

He was a grown man when Baelon died and there's nothing to suggest that Baelon wasn't a good father. He wasn't even heir for most of Daemon's childhood so you don't even have that as a reason for "neglect." Wouldn't his attachment to Viserys better be explained by him clinging onto his remaining family? If anything, wouldn't he have "MOTHER issues"? Wouldn't that better pair with how he so willingly accepted a subservient role to Rhaenyra?

what is going on in Condal's head and why does he think he understands the characters so well that he needs to CHANGE them?

I agree I have mostly claimed that Daemon would feel a void where his mother should be more than have dominant issues with his father. And I have described why Daemon's protectorness both not only came from his Targ pride/history but seeing Viserys fall into a pattern of trying to please people in response to that void and the pressure of living up to Jaehaerys' model of kingship/leadership/masculinity (they are all wrapped up in each other) to preserve said legacy. "We have reason to believe that his upbringing was still loving and that he maybe thought himself his brother and father’s caretakers. If not in traditional sense, in that he is the one who will do “what it takes” to keep them afloat. In his mind"

I think Condal's misinterpreted and is now overblowing & extending the possible distance Baelon had maybe a few months after Alyssa died in his most immediate and sharpest period of grief. Or using that grief he always had & choose to focus less on how hands on he would have been more than most fathers both bc Alyssa wasn't there AND bc Baelon has already shown to be less machismo--thus there was a higher chance of him of all men being like "kid rearing are for for the wives and servants, I have kids just for legacy" type deal. which is all why you got some people not that bothered by it bc he ends up in a place where Daemon does try to do as canon Daemon does with Viserys and seek validation. He obviously can see something in their relationship coming from their parent's presence and roles in their lives, but he attributes that to fatherlessness and not motherlessness.

It gets exaggerated/misunderstood and is still affected by the misunderstanding of Baelon's relationships w/his kids. It's another example of sidelining a Targ woman, this time, Alyssa. Same as when people argue about Daemon possibly training his kids w/Rhaenyra to someday usurp the 3 Velaryon boys or kill them for the throne bc "Daemon is a Targ supremacist" even though this idea makes everyone around him a passive bystander or participant: Rhaenys and Corlys & Rhaenyra all don't somehow see Daemon try to do this in their own homes? Rhaenyra doesn't have that much influence over her kids despite being the head of the household, having had a strong will before anyone died, and her definitely noticing if Daemon had any designs on her first kids' demise? Her protectiveness over ALL her kids? The only explanation is sexism and the projection of a resentment against Rhaenyra for her having the masculinized/male-entitled authority that Daemon-as-their-self-insert "should" have bc he is male.

So, yeah, it seems Condal might be projecting just a little. Or just negligent bc he doesn't think abt Alyssa much. Daemon wasn't Rhaenyra "good boy", nor did she "tame" him, but he also actually never troubles her political authority in any meaningful way until he saved Nettles from her. We would have heard from it somehow from the greens or the writers/sources; GRRM makes it clear when we should know when domestic abuses or troubles as he does with the greens, who comparatively has much more textual evidence of such despite this entire book trying to villainize Rhaenyra, the Targs, and female rulership in general. Hmmm.....

[risingscorchingsuns]

What was hikaru's transition experience in the corps? How did they take his coming out (if that happened)? How easy was it for him to get care (you said shinobu did his top surgery)?

This is a great question! Unfortunately Hikaru being trans is one of the most historically inaccurate parts of his story, if not medically, then definitely socially. I use a lot more modern methods and language because I wanted Hikaru to be trans similarly to how I am. It’s my canon-accurate Achilles Heel 😭

Don’t get me wrong, trans people definitely existed back in the Taisho period!! We’ve always been here, but back then we were recorded a little differently, generally regarded as “women in men’s clothing”, et cetera. I will never deny their existence, and Hikaru being modern with his gender expression isn’t meant as erasure or denial to them, but as an expression of myself via a fictional character. Their existence is real, and valid, and they are no less trans than Hikaru- at the end of the day, he’s my silly little self insert, and I wanted to write his experiences based off of mine. If the focus of Hikaru’s story was his gender journey, I would put more emphasis on the time period and the difficulties surrounding being trans in the Taisho period, but the themes surrounding Blazing Heart’s Rhapsody are acceptance and solace found within family, and love in spite of war. This isn’t a story about trans people- Hikaru just happens to be trans ☺️

Hikaru realized he was a boy very very young, (probably around 6 or 7) and his father, Hiroki, encouraged him to live in whatever fashion made him feel most comfortable. Because Hikaru grew up in the woods with only his father and little brothers, he was never really socialized as a woman or a man- he was just Hikaru, the oldest Eritora child. He likely hit puberty while living on his own in the Sumitomo Forest, but didn’t experience dysphoria until he was found by the Kochos when he was 16. When he was brought into the Corps, Hikaru experienced gender norms full-force for the first time. It wasn’t really that they didn’t support Hikaru being trans, it was more that he didn’t fit. He was Different, and that made him Othered. For the first time, Hikaru was struggling with where he belonged, and that was when he started to really learn the societal importance placed on gender roles. Additionally, Hikaru is neurodivergent, so these norms never made much sense to him logically in the first place. So while he never really had to come out, he did have to fit in, which was difficult for him to navigate. He talked to Shinobu, who in all her medical expertise, gave him the best advice she could. She was the one who helped him hormonally transition, (if she can inject herself with 700x the lethal dose of wisteria without fucking poisoning herself, she can probably make Hikaru’s testosterone. She’s iconic like that I think.) and ultimately it was Shinobu who helped Hikaru figure out where he stood in terms of gender identity. Hikaru is a self-made man in every sense of the phrase, but he couldn’t have done it without the help of those around him.

As for top surgery, I don’t really have a canon-friendly justification for that. Shinobu’s not a plastic surgeon, she’s probably done minor surgeries before, but never anything to the level of gender-affirming surgery. I feel like she’d DIY that shit tbh. She could pull it off. I’d let her do my top surgery. Shinobu says trans rights 🗣️

Thank you for this ask!!! I rarely get to do longform Hikaru analysis :D

[magicwithineleteo]

i know that a lot of people say that ricky’s confession to nini in 1x10 is cringey and you can tell joshua improvised it but i think it was perfect for rini because everything he said was never shown in the show

in his confession, he goes on about past experiences w nini that we as the audience never saw. this is so perfect for rini because the sole reason they came back to each other in the first place was because gina left and they started talking about their past in 1x08.

ricky specifically was growing after he stopped chasing nini in 1x05 and where he started to really get closer to gina. gina is the embodiment of change, and ricky absolutely hates change. she helped him a lot, he’d reach to text nini or something like that and then gina would end up saying the right things needing to help him.

ricky and nini only started to “fall back in love” after gina left. ricky didn’t think he would ever see gina again (her saying there’s no point in calling her anymore and not responding to his dozens of texts) so he ended up regressing back to who he was pre-gina.

this included being in love with nini.

and this may not make sense and may sound dumb but i think it just summarizes rini’s relationship, the fact that them coming back together was based on moments the audience never saw.

we never saw rini as kids, ricky microwaving her doll, them coming up with their nicknames for each other, etc. everything they reminisce on before.

ofc the show isn’t gonna show this stuff because the show is in the present, not their past.

but i find it interesting that their memories are somewhat baseless to the audience because we never see them.

whereas with gina’s confession in 3x08, we saw everything she looked back on. when they met, her giving him the hat, etc. everything with rina, we saw. we saw them both grow. we saw them help each other. we saw gina validate ricky and support him during his world falling apart while everyone else was berating him. and we saw ricky accept gina when no one else did, him being her first friend at east high and help her break down her walls a little. i imagine she doesn’t let herself get emotionally attached to anyone whenever she moves, so it doesn’t hurt when she leaves. that’s why in the beginning she primarily looks out for herself and has her walls up.

ricky breaks down those walls, and she later gets hurt because she let them down. since he got back with nini after thinking he would never see her again.

“maybe i’m safer when i’m on the run, no time to open up my heart. maybe i’ll hide behind my walls again, instead of tearing them apart.”

anyway

sorry, just a random thing that i liked about the show, the fact that rini’s whole foundation was based on them romanticizing their past; it just foreshadowed that they weren’t going to last.