#it’s less so that it’s a ridiculous question and more so about the complete lack of autonomous thought

[villainousauthor]

Hero continues to rock the wailing infant, trying to shush her. It's been hours, and still they haven't been able to get her to calm down. Nothing has worked, not a bottle, a diaper change, nothing.

Hero places their hand against her small forehead, checking for a fever, maybe. They feel so beyond their depth right now. Hero's barely slept the past day, and they're dead on their feet, eyes barely staying open.

"I wish you could just tell me what's wrong. This is so frustrating." Hero whines, still bouncing the crying infant.

"It's unfortunate, most babies can't talk." The familiar voice comes from behind, and Hero whirls around defensively to see Villain standing in the doorway of the nursery.

"What are you doing here?" Hero demands, clutching their child closer.

"You haven't come to fight me in months. I've sent out clear messages-"

"You mean constantly blowing up buildings and taking people hostage?" Hero interrupts, still holding their baby close to their chest.

"-but you never came. I was starting to think you died," Villain finishes eloquently. "I can see now that you've been a bit busy." They take a step closer, and Hero takes another step back, trying to keep distance.

This was bad. Hero very much intended that no one would know about their child, enemies especially. They could feel anxiety rising in their chest, clawing at their throat.

Villain eyes their movement before speaking again. "Shame, I would have sent a gift if I'd known. Who's the other parent?" Their eyes shoot back up to Hero's as they ask.

"No one. She's mine, her other parent is irrelevant." Hero says defensively. The baby continues to cry, face red.

Villain looks over the both of them, humming as they consider this. "So you're doing this alone. How long have you been up for?"

The question seems harmless, and yet Hero hesitates, still not trusting Villain. The way they ask though, seems simply curious.

"...A few hours now. I can't get her to sleep." Hero finally says quietly.

Villain steps closer again, this time slowly, as if to not worry Hero. "I can tell," They snort, but the words are soft, "You look completely exhausted."

"Jeez thanks-"

"May I try?" Villain asks, voice gentle. Hero looks at them like they've grown three heads. The very idea that Hero would hand their child over to Villain is so beyond ridiculous, that they can't believe they asked.

Vilain sees their expression and rolls their eyes. "I'm not going to do anything to harm her. I know you'd kick my ass if I even tried. I'm good with kids, and you look like you're going to fall over any minute."

They step even closer and lift a finger to the small baby, which she grabs with her chubby little hand. Villain chuckles at the sight.

Hero watches, eyes fighting to stay open. Villain is right, they do feel like they're on the verge of collapse any moment. Arms are heavy from continuously rocking the baby, legs feel like jello.

"Okay, you can hold her for a moment. But I swear to everything that if you do anything to harm her, your body will end scattered in tiny pieces across the country." Hero warns, their voice more deadly than it's ever been with Villain.

Villain simply smiles as they reach out for the baby. "I wouldn't expect anything less." They take her in their arms, holding her comfortably. Hero immediately collapses down into the nearby rocking chair.

They rock her in their arms like it's the most natural thing in the world. Hero watches on in surprise as she starts to calm down somewhat, though she's still fussy. The lack of wailing level crying is a godsend though.

"How in the world.." Hero asks, amazed at the sight.

Villain grabs a pacifier off the near by changing table, giving it to the infant. She accepts it easily and finally settles down.

"I told you I'm really good with kids. Plus babies just like me," They say as they look down at the infant in their arms with the most genuine smile Hero has ever seen, "Also have you considered that she might be teething?"

Hero raises an eyebrow before yawning suddenly. "Ah..no I haven't. I'm new to this, and I feel like I'm learning as I go along..."

"It probably doesn't help that you don't have any help either. Why don't you rest for a bit while I hold her?" Villain suggests, noticing how on the verge of falling asleep they are. "I promise I'll stay right here, and she'll be okay. You should get some sleep."

"I'm not so sure about that..." Hero replies, though their head is already starting to sag. "How'd you get so good with kids anyways?" They ask, their eyes beginning to flutter.

Villain chuckles quietly. "You don't get to unlock my tragic back story that easily." But Hero is already asleep, passed out over in the chair. Villain continues to hold the baby as they drap a small blanket over Hero.

[acevid]

DRDT X DESPAIR DISEASE

what if the danganronpa despair time cast had the motive of despair disease? well, i’ve made diseases for everyone! (i may write a oneshot for this but to be determined..)

╔═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╗

Teruko Tawaki - Childish Disease. Since her childhood is..probably not the best, considering what information we have about her thus far—it causes her to act childishly and to make up for what had once lost! (And makes her an easier target.)

Xander Matthews - Lazy Disease. This disease is exactly how it sounds. This makes it so that Xander is no longer the energetic and determined person that he is, but rather someone who doesn’t put much effort into things, or sees the reason to care about others too much.

Min Jeung - Confidence Disease. This disease makes it so that Min is completely confident in her abilities and whatever she does. This makes it so that she is much less anti-social towards others, and not afraid to prove anyone wrong.

Arei Nageishi - Cowardice Disease. Because Arei has this disease, she will act meekly due to pretty much everything. Often times another student will see her shaking or on the verge of tears. She can be comforted, but many things can set her off again.

Ace Markey - Truth Disease. This strain of disease makes it so that Ace can only say the truth. While, yes, he can simply change the subject by saying random but true stuff like “It’s cold right now”, but it’s harder to fight the more he does it—and it’s especially hard whenever somebody directs a question towards him.

Levi Fontana - Empathetic Disease. This gives Levi what he’s always been lacking—empathy! And not just any old empathy. His empathy is seriously high, like off the charts. 

J Rosales - Villain Disease. While, yes, making it so that J had some ‘murder’ disease would’ve been funny, considering how she hates murder—that would’ve been too easy. And so, we’ve resorted to making her act like a really bad cartoon villain. Why? Comedy. Makes the show go up in ratings.

Rose Lacroix - Forgetfulness Disease. Pretty self explanatory, Rose simply is unable to keep long-term memories. (..Actually, change that to memories in general, as she seems to forget a lot that happened in a short time-span as well. Such as—half an hour.)

Arturo Giles - Kindness Disease. This disease makes it so that Arturo doesn’t see the ugliness in people, but rather the good qualities about them. He’s rather vocal about this too.

Hu Jing - Antagonist Disease. This causes her to act rudely to everyone, as if she is above them, and cause troubles just so that her classmates struggle. She doesn’t seem to have any want to cooperate with everyone like this.

Nico Hakobyan - Aggressive Disease. This makes it so that Nico is more easily aggravated, and will lash out more. He’s becoming Ace-core

Whit Young - Stoic Disease. This disease makes it so that Whit can no longer use the humor and carelessness that he so desperately loves. In fact, he acts the opposite of how he typically does.

Eden Tobisa - Jester Disease. This is different to Charles’ disease. While he makes jokes and acts somewhat childishly, Eden does so somewhat maliciously. Her jokes always seem to hit hard in someone’s core (and definitely not in a pleasant way). Her way of making others laugh seems to be by putting others down. On the outside, she may look the same—but there is a certain evil aura around her.

Charles Cuevas - Jokester Disease. This disease makes it so that Charles can easily find humour in situations. (He uses so many puns it is ridiculous.) It’s almost as if Whit and Charles switched personalities.

Veronika Grebenschikova - Considerate Disease. Veronika will act respectful towards others, always trying to help and never breaking any boundaries. (Think Ibuki’s disease except she actually has a personality.)

David Chiem - Naivety Disease. This disease makes it so that David believes everything that others are saying—or at least makes it easier to. Because of this trust that he’s putting into others, it’s also much easier to get the truth out of him about matters important and unimportant.

╚═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╝

[razorblade180]

A Sweet Issue

Furina:Aether, I’ve come to you with a problem of sorts…

Aether:One day you’ll come to me with solutions I hope.

Furina:Focus! I’m in a serious bind. I… fancy someone.

Aether:Oh that’s wonderful! Who is it? Clorinde?

Furina:No, I’m her old boss! That would be a little embarrassing.

Aether:Almost everyone was kinda an old employee. Is it Neuvillette?

Furina:Did you just ask me if the person I fancy has been the person I’ve known for centuries?

Aether:In my defense, he’s only recently been more emotionally available.

Furina:It’s not Neuvillette. Frankly that idea sounds disastrous for him specifically. Though he tries to hide it, it’s all too easy to tell how silently misses Focalors when he looks into my eyes.

Aether:…Sh-Should I get Mizuki?

Furina:For the love of- Navia! *red* I fancy her.

Aether:Oooooh. Wait, ooooooh….. that’s a little messy.

He shifts his gaze slightly past Furina to stare at Navia, who stands absolutely frozen with a cupcake inches from her open mouth. Clearly, this situation has gotten more complicated than it was supposed to be.

Aether:This is going to be tough.

Furina:You’re telling me! I’ve been fighting these emotions but recently we’ve been having a lot of one on one time together. I can’t help but feel…safe, happy in her presence. But then I feel so guilty. It was my leadership, or rather my lack of it that cost the lives of her people during the flood.

Aether:Hey now, she doesn’t blame you. Navia understands how rough things were for you.

Navia:*nods aggressively*

Furina:That may be true and while I appreciate it, that doesn’t make this situation less complicated. After all, Navia did reject Clorinde due to their past…

Navia:*tucks in lips*….

Aether:Okay. Counterpoint, you aren’t a lifelong friend that personally murdered her father. Wasn’t even your say to appeal the trial.

Navia:*slouches deeply*

Aether:(Yeah I should really let Mizuki know about potential clients)

Furina:I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t her own feelings are completely divorced from past events.

Aether:Shouldn’t that go the same for you? Like myself, Navia was a very active participant in outing you to the public and making you cry.

The young boss of Spina perked up and flung both arms above her head as if to silently say, “Whose side are you on!?” A very fair question, because Furina was also giving a look of disbelief.

Furina:A little tact would do you good. I know it’s a fair point to bring up but was mentioning me crying really necessary!?

Aether:Sorry. I’m a little off my game today.

Furina:Hmph, to answer your question, I’ve moved past that and you know it. There was so many moving parts to the prophecy that ultimately, what happened was just that; the prophecy. The people of Poisson however, that was no prophecy. It was negligence, a mistake I have to learn to live with and accept. Even as I do, it doesn’t change how others may see it. I’m so happy Navia’s my friend. It’s frankly more than I can ask for. Yet…

Aether:You’re afraid this confession wouldn’t just be rejection, but ruin your friendship too.

Furina:If I’m being honest, the friendship is already in shambles because of me! It’s so flustering talking to her! *blushing* I try acting like myself but she’s just so…amazing! I’m completely head over heels for Navia and it’s ridiculous. Even now, my heart is racing.

Navia:*red* (Why did I have to walk around the corner at the most awkward time!?)

Furina:Anyways, I digress. Do you have any advice? It would really mean a lot to me.

Aether:Ummm. I can’t say how she might feel, but Navia values honesty and sincerity above all else. She’s also definitely one of the kindest people I’ve certainly met, and that’s saying something.

Navia: (Oh great, now everyone is complimenting me!! Maybe I should run, but then I won’t hear anything either!

Aether:You should talk to her. Get it all off your chest. My gut tells me things will be smoother than you suspect. Just have a little faith.

Furina:I was the faith; hard to have it now but I’ll try.

Aether:You pick the worst times to acknowledge you were the people’s deity.

He hugs the troubled girl gently while aggressively shoeing away Navia before she gets caught. She takes the hint and runs away.

Aether:(Oh thank goodness…)

Furina:Alright, enough dillydallying! I’m going to see her! *runs off*

Aether:Wh- Maybe walk slowly! Collect your thoughts! Siiiigh. Well at least there’s a good chance Furina goes to Poisson before checking Fleuve Cendre. Guess that means there’s only one place I should go!

[Hotel Debord]

Aether:*walks into room* Wha- Seriously!?

The girl of the hour was stressing eating her pasties at the coffee table.

Navia:Ah, you’ve arrived!

Aether:I don’t want to be a “witness” to this world anymore. *grabs doorknob*

Navia:Partner, please! I just want to collect my thoughts! Today was supposed to be an errand day!

Aether:…*walks to the bed* I want a cupcake as compensation.

[eddieandbird]

Answer the Question—

You and Eddie get interviewed and talk about your relationship.

Part 1 | Part 2

tags/warnings: fluff | 2.9k words | f!reader | rockstar!eddie

———

Eddie’s crooked smile was illuminated by the dim yellow light of the hotel room and that was about the only thing you could see in your haze.

“To us getting hitched. Cheers, sweetheart,” He said, severely underestimating your lack of coordination.

Your distorted vision paired with your poor reaction time didn’t allow you to correctly tip your wine glass to his beer. He continued anyway, pushing the glass right out of your hand and onto your dress.

“Aw, dammit! Look what you did,” You whined, uselessly patting at the crimson stain.

“It’s not my fault you’ve got butterfingers,” He grumbled, unsteadily hovering as he pointed to you.

“You’re such a dick,” You huffed, rushing to the bathroom to assess the damage.

You were much more of a mess than you thought. The formal up-do you had was holding onto your hairpins for dear life and your mascara had morphed into dark circles around your eyes.

Despite the rough state you were in, Eddie refused to leave you alone, especially when he felt guilty for ruining your dress. You tried to push him away as he attempted to interrupt you studying your reflection, yet his hands still found a way to get to you.

“C’mon, let’s take this off, huh?” He took the top hem of your dress in between his fingers and tugged on it lightly.

“No, I feel so gross,” You slurred, stomping petulantly in place.

“That’s why we’re getting you out of this thing, you brat. Just let me help,” Eddie scoffed.

He slowly unzipped the back of your dress, revealing your back. He paused, a lump forming in his throat as he drank in the sight of you. He'd seen you in tank tops and even a bikini once before, but seeing you nearly naked in front of him made him nervous.

He swallowed as he took a step closer to you, gently nudging you away from the mirror. "You're not gross. Don’t be ridiculous," he whispered, his eyes glued to you protectively.

“Oh, please. You’re just saying that because you’re my wife, huh?” Your brows were knitted with your eyes barely peeking open.

“You’re my wife, stupid,” He snickered at your verbal mistake. He couldn’t tease you too much for the slip up considering he was the one struggling to get your dress off, a bathrobe on you, and lay you gently on the bed without dropping you.

“Whatever,” You stuck your tongue out at him.

All his drunken hard work was for nothing as you just as quickly shed the bathrobe, tossing it over the bedside lamp and climbing into the covers.

Eddie took a moment to take in the sight of you in just your underwear, his heartbeat quickening at the thought of being so close to your nearly naked body. He quickly stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed next to you, pulling the sheets up.

He moved closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. "Go to sleep, idiot," he sighed affectionately.

“You suck,” You quipped, playfully biting his hand as you watched it hover over you and rest right at your collarbone.

”Um hello? Did I lose you somewhere?” Eddie waved his hand in front of your face, making you blink rapidly.

“What? No- I mean yes! Sorry, what are we talking about?” as always, you were frazzled when you woke up from your daydream.

“God, you’re impossible,” he scrubbed his face in his hand. “I was asking you if we should say we went on our first date before or after you became my manager,”

“After. I think it’ll sound better,”

He rolled his eyes. It was the right answer, however, he could just tell you were only halfway there physically. The amount of times Eddie has caught you completely spacing out since your wedding night was becoming concerning.

“You’re about to do your first televised appearance as my wife, could you please act a little less like a zombie?”

“Cut me some slack! I don’t typically do public speaking, I’m terrified!” You squeaked.

Eddie scoffed, readying a quip to give back to you, but quickly dropped it. Instead, he hooked his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. For a split second, you considered pushing the gesture away, but similarly to Eddie, you gave in and returned the embrace.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a bit nervous too. I don’t want to embarrass you or whatever,” He muttered.

A pout crept up on your face as Eddie let himself slip into vulnerability again. “Hey, it’s alright. You’re really good at these interviews. You’re a pro at this point, I can’t imagine you letting me down,”

You applied a few comforting pats on his back. Eddie leaned into your embrace, taking comfort in the way you wrapped your arms around him.

"Thanks," he mumbled, his voice muffled in the crook of your neck. "You're right, I just..." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to screw this all up."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes flitting across your face. "But I know I can count on you to have my back, right?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

“Always, rockstar,” You nodded before scooping his hand into yours.

“Mr. and Mrs. Munson, we’re ready for you now,” A stagehand popped into the green room to say.

In unison, you and Eddie both took a deep breath. Your hands remained linked as you stood up and began your journey to the back of the stage. Once there, the both of you instinctively got into your typical warm-up positions that you’d get into with the band; flicking out your wrists and articulating your faces to relax the muscles. Eddie couldn't help but feel reassured by the sight of your linked hands and your shared warm-up routine. He was grateful for the familiar ritual, something that felt like a small tether to the life he was used to.

“Break a leg, Munson,” You saluted him.

“You too, Munson,” He shot a smirk back.

With a final deep breath, he patted you on the shoulder before stepping on stage to the sound of applause and cheers. You and Eddie came out with your heads held high and your hands attached. With a few waves and blown kisses to the crowd, you sat on the set couch in front of the interview host, Jessica Terry.

Her first set of questions was pretty light. They were all surface-level and predictable; Where did you meet? How long you’ve known each other? You almost felt like it gave you a false sense of security because it wasn’t long until Jessica asked a harder-hitting question.

“Why did you wait so long to tell the world about your relationship?” The host asked.

That was the question that burned the hottest in the minds of spectators. Even though you and Eddie had spoken in great detail about how you wanted to answer this, you couldn’t help but feel like there wasn’t enough discussion to fully prepare each other. You swallowed your anxiety and let him take the lead.

Eddie was in his own head as you looked at him to answer. Even with a pre-made script in his head of how he should go about it, he still felt like something was missing. He had a strong desire to speak from his heart.

He cleared his throat before he said

“The obvious answer is for our privacy, but I think it might be deeper than that. When you have something special like love, you can’t help but want to keep it all to yourself, if only for a little while. I wanted to make sure what I felt wasn’t just a small rose bud, but a whole blooming garden before I got to make a whole bouquet out of it,”

Your jaw involuntarily dropped but you lacked any words to say. It was the most eloquent thing you’d ever heard him utter. An unfamiliar ache in your chest came crashing onto you in powerful waves. It now made sense why he refused to speak about his feelings for you before. He laid it out plainly for you and the whole room to hear. You startled yourself as you felt tears beginning to roll down your cheeks.

“Sorry, I um- I get really emotional when he talks like that,” Your voice strained through the tightness in your chest as you dabbed at your face with your knuckles.

Eddie's heart practically stopped as he saw the tears stream down your cheeks. He knew he was laying it on pretty thick when he spoke in such poetic terms, but he didn't expect it to impact you so deeply.

He reached over and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it. "Hey, it’s alright," he whispered.

Jessica smiled at your apology, touched by the sight of a rockstar known for his wild antics getting all soft and sentimental in front of the cameras.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Mrs. Munson. We all find your guys’ story to be inspiring. It’s obvious that you love each other very much,” The host offered a sympathetic smile and claps to encourage applause from the audience.

She mentioned that dreaded four-letter word and for a moment you forgot to keep up the etiquette around speaking to the interviewer and the audience. Your eyes were set on Eddie, looking a bit vacant as more pieces began to connect in your mind. He nodded at you, silently communicating that you needed to continue.

“Yeah, you’re right, Jessica. I do love him. I love him a lot,” Saying it caused your voice to tremble subtly, but the nodding of your head reinforced it.

Your sickly sweet response was enough to fool everyone in that room except for Eddie. His brain felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t tell if you were being an amazing actress for the sake of your precious plan or if there was any truth to your words.

He knew you well enough to tell that something was off. Your words felt too genuine to be entirely fake, but at the same time, there was something else in your tone. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He was eager to ask why the hell you were crying and saying all these things, but for now, he was locked into this interview with no way out. He had to act like this was all some romantic moment between the two of you.

“I love you, too. More than anything, I love you,” Like a child would do with their favorite toy, he took your hand in his and pressed it to his chest. His heartbeat vibrated against your palm and it caused your own heartbeat to be just as erratic.

The audience let out a collective "aww" at his declaration. Eddie's heart skipped a beat at the feeling of your hand, the rapid beating of his heart almost as fast as the thoughts racing through his mind. The host, sensing the sincerity of the moment, wrapped up the interview quickly, leaving Eddie and you alone for the first time since you stepped on stage.

As soon as they called cut, Eddie practically dragged you behind the curtain, away from the prying eyes of the crew and cameras. Your legs struggled to keep up with his frantic movement.

“Hey! Slow down, you know I can barely walk in heels. You’re gonna make me break an ankle-”

“What the hell happened out there?” Eddie halted your half-hearted complaint with a more pointed question.

A shrug was accompanied by your sheepish, wide-eyed look. “What do you mean? I think it all went great. I mean the crowd was practically eating out of the palms of our hands,”

“Oh cut the shit, would ya?” he gave an exaggerated sigh. “You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me out there? All smitten and shit while you said you loved me,”

You wanted to take a step back, but his arm snaked around your waist and yanked you to him.

“Please don’t make me feel crazy. That look meant something, right? Don’t tell me it was part of the act,”

“That look? I mean-” You stuttered.

This should have been easy to deny. You should have been able to laugh it off, but your inability to lie to him came in when you least expected it.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” You sighed, hanging your head in surrender.

"Don't give me that!" he snapped, pushing you closer to him. "I saw you crying out there, and don't think I didn't notice you spacing out in the green room before the interview.”

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. “Just tell me. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I don’t know. I know that’s probably the last thing you want to hear, but that’s the truth,” Your eyes widened like a scolded child’s.

“You have to understand how confusing all this is for me. We got married one night and the next day you’re telling me I need to pretend I love you, so I do it. I do anything to be a good manager and a good friend, but now I also have to be your wife for the cameras and you tell me you have real feelings for me and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel,”

You two were silent for a moment, the only noise to be heard was the chatter outside and your heaving breaths. What tethered you to this moment was his golden brown eyes locked onto yours, both of your faces now mere inches away from each other. Eddie took his hand and traced your collarbone to your shoulder before pushing your hair behind it. From your shoulder, he dragged his fingers down your arm and connected his hand to his.

“I don’t care about how you think you’re supposed to feel… What do you actually feel? How do you feel about me?”

His request hung in the air like thick smoke. You couldn’t escape those questions for much longer, not when he had his hands on you like this. You could feel the heat from the crimson flush blooming on your cheeks.

“Eddie, please don’t-”

“Answer the question,” He deflected your plea.

Your tea kettle of emotions was finally whistling with steam. “Fine! I’m in love with you, okay?!”

You shocked him with your outburst. His mind struggled to process your confession. He knew deep down that you couldn't have just been putting on an act during the interview. He searched your face for any sign of dishonesty, but the flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes flicked between his own told him everything he needed to know. You were telling the truth.

“Don’t just stand there, Eddie. Say something,” You demanded quietly. He stood motionless. He could hear you, but he couldn’t do anything.

“Hey… Hey!” You swatted at his arm repeatedly, desperately trying to get him to say something. “This is your fault. It’s all your fault,”

It was just to get a reaction out of him, but it still didn’t prevent Eddie from scoffing into a chuckle under his breath.

“It’s my fault? My fault that we got married?”

“It’s your fault that I fell in love with you,” You pushed his shoulder to create distance, but all he did was grab hold of your hand again.

He took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you once again then ran a thumb over your bottom lip. "Let me get this straight. You're saying falling in love with me was entirely my fault?"

You nipped at his thumb to get him to move then stuck your tongue into your cheek.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s your fault that you’re a pain in my ass but at the same time, the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” The fight in your voice died down as you finished your sentence. “You’re messy and annoying and charming and sweet and—“

“Mhm, mhm,” Eddie nodded almost condescendingly. “So when’s the part of your rant where you shut up and kiss me?”

“You really suck, you know that?” You shook your head with a wide grin of disbelief.

He began leaning toward you, his head dipping down to capture your lips with his. His teasing demeanor quickly faded as he kissed you. The initial soft pecks slowly turned into something deeper and more passionate as he held the back of your neck. He took a step forward, pressing you up against the wall and trapping your body with his.

Then the sudden sound of the curtain swooshing open startled you and Eddie, breaking your kiss.

“Ugh, gross. There you two are,” Gareth’s voice dripped in his disgust as he discovered the both of you.

“Dude, what the hell?” Eddie angrily gestured to his bandmate.

“I’ve been looking for you guys everywhere. We gotta get on the bus if we wanna make it to the next show. Let’s get out of here!” He lightly smacked Eddie’s cheek.

You could tell Eddie could beat the shit out of Gareth for interrupting the moment. You tugged on his arm and gave him a glare that said ‘Behave,’.

“He’s right, rockstar. We gotta go,” You smiled with your nose scrunched before leading him out.

[runninriot]

Beautiful Boy

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

week 3 prompt: lingerie | rated: E | wc: 4.551 | tags: shy eddie munson, lovingly mean steve harrington, dom/sub undertones, sexual content, self confidence issues, body worship | complete fic on ao3

  “This is stupid. So, so stupid.”

Eddie has been keeping himself locked away in the bathroom for way too long now. He should go out and face the music, but he can’t, feels too humiliated to move.

   “What the hell am I doing?”

He should’ve known it was a bad idea to agree to this, should’ve known his childish behaviour would come back to bite his ass.

Eddie lost a bet to his boyfriend, a stupid bet he’d agreed to easily because when has he ever said no to a challenge? But Steve beat him and now Eddie is getting ready to pay up.

Or at least he’s trying to. Because he’s still not sure he can really pull it off.

He keeps turning from left to right, skeptically looking at his reflection in the mirror.

    God, he looks ridiculous, doesn’t he.

This stuff isn’t made for him. It’s for people with less bony asses. People with more meat on them and with defined muscles they can show off. Pretty people, whose perfect bodies would shine covered in black lace.

Eddie just looks… wrong. Like he’s trying to be something he’s definitely not.

The dainty floral pattern is a harsh contrast to the crooked lines adorning his skin – too soft, too delicate, enhancing all his little flaws and blemishes rather than fulfilling the purpose of making him feel good. That’s why people usually choose to wear these things, right? To feel hot and pretty and confident.

Well. He definitely doesn’t.

He hates the way the panties sit too low on his hips, digging into the sharp edges of his bones. The way they sit snug around his flat ass, revealing the lack of shape. The matching bralette is made of the same lacy material, thin straps holding nothing in place – Eddie’s not graced with the body of a god like Steve is. He’s got nothing much to show off.

Eddie takes one more look at himself and sighs defeated when he sees someone he doesn't recognise staring back from the mirror.

And it bothers him, how much he hates the view. How insecure it makes him feel, how it makes him question what Steve sees in him, why he settled for someone like Eddie when he could’ve had anyone else.

Someone just as beautiful as him.

At least Steve will get a good laugh out if it. That’s probably why he thought of the punishment in the first place. Not necessarily to make fun of Eddie, he’s not that mean. But- whatever.

A bet is a bet, and he lost, so he’ll suck it up and get it over with.

He’s got a one-man-crowd waiting for him in the bedroom and the sooner he gets what he wants, the sooner Eddie can get out of this fucking lingerie.

-----

Steve’s buzzing with anticipation. He’s been sitting on the bed for what feels like hours, waiting for Eddie to finally come out of the bathroom.

He’s been dreaming about this forever, literally. It’s a secret fantasy he’s had ever since Eddie and him started dating a few months ago, since they started exploring each other’s bodies in the most intimate ways.

To see Eddie’s perfect body covered in lacy lingerie, to let his fingers dance over the soft fabric, gently caressing what’s underneath, mouthing at his cock through his panties just to tease, just rile him up – God, what a vision, what a thought. And soon, so soon, it’ll become reality.

He can’t wait for his boyfriend to walk out dressed in the matching pieces Steve had chosen himself, went for the black set because it’s Eddie’s favourite colour.

Steve’s hard just from imagining it. Can barely keep his hands to himself at the dirty thoughts looping in his mind.

He needs to see it. Needs Eddie to come out right now or he’ll combust.

And then, finally, Eddie does. Slowly opens the bedroom door before he hesitantly steps in. And he’s even more beautiful than Steve could ever have imagined.

Standing there, all shy and pretty, with his cheeks tinted pink and his arms crossed before his chest, looking so… so perfect.

   “Fuck,“ is all Steve can get out, too stunned, too lost in the vision his boyfriend is.

He let’s his eyes roam slowly from his face to his shoulder, following the line of the straps down to where the v-shaped neckline reveals Eddie’s hairless, tattooed chest. Stops to take in the sight of his pierced nipples, metal glinting through sheer fabric that hugs his shape so beautifully.

Eyes raking further down, Steve feels his own cock twitch - the low cut panties enhance Eddie’s narrow waist perfectly, catching Steve’s full attention where the lace encloses Eddie’s glorious dick. He’s soft but still prominent under the see-through material that leaves nothing to the imagination.

It’s a mouth-watering vision and Steve silently curses himself for not being bold enough to get the fishnet stockings, too. They’d sit so perfectly around Eddie’s muscular thighs and long legs.

    “It’s okay, Steve. You can laugh. I know I look stupid.“

Eddie’s words pull him out of his trance and Steve blinks a few times, feeling a little hazy.

The words take some time to sink in but once they do, Steve suddenly notices that what he thought was Eddie just being a bit shy is actually him being uncomfortable. That the way he tries to hide his body behind his own arms is not him acting coy, it’s him being ashamed.

    Oh, hell no.

That just won’t do. That’s not what Steve had planned.

Luckily, he knows just how to turn this around.

-----

continue reading here

[theweeklydiscourse]

Sincerily all this bs discourse about letting female characters be "soft" and "tradicional" and how "being a wife and a mother is okay actually!!!!!" It's so ridiculous in and out of itself. Because all these characters that they claim to be "tradicionally masculine" and full of "internalized misoginy"... are really not? Like sure she may stab and beat people but she's also doing it on heels, a big dress and a face full of makeup?? What's tradicionally masculine about that?? What i always get of it is that... maybe these people see hyper-feminity and passivity/submissiveness as more tied off togheter than they were ever willingly to admit. They can scream "woman can be strong and feminine" all they want but in my opinion they don't genuinely belivie it. Idk maybe i tripping.

Anon, you hit the nail on the head. Sometimes it seems like these people exist in some alternate opposite reality where everything conforms to their warped beliefs about reality.

The supposedly “masculine” female leads that we supposedly have a surplus of tend to be very feminine and match current beauty ideals. She’ll have a face full of makeup and perfect hair, complete with a tasteful (if a bit edgy) outfit, and an unambiguously feminine appearance. When Rachel Zegler said that the live action Snow White would be more leadership-oriented and less passive, people complained about the lack of representation for feminine women and whined about the erasure of “softness” in female characters. They see femininity and submissiveness/passivity as inextricably linked and never interrogate those beliefs.

I get being disillusioned with the onslaught of shallow “girl boss” heroines that have become a favourite habit of corporate Hollywood, but that doesn’t mean they can just deny reality. Femininity (and hyper-femininity) is as idealized as it ever was, and these girlboss characters represent a tiny minority of female characters across mediums of entertainment. How many popular films/television series/books have masculine or androgynous female characters at the forefront? How many butches do we actually see in the media? The answer is not many. People highly underestimate how common it is to see female characters who aren’t stereotypically feminine.

But yeah, they can go on and on about how they want “strong and feminine” female characters, but the truth is that they’ll only be satisfied when the strength in question is confined to patriarchal expectations of what women should be.

[olderthannetfic]

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/772134036909047808/tumblrcomolderthannetfic772021907545554944elsa#notes

That's fair. But this is mainly about someone who's completely shitting on any concept of ethnicity, culture, heritage, history and lived reality, and tries to make everything "a human-racial classification" to begin with. Same shit applies to latino and Asian. Do they mean East Asian? South East Asian? South Asian? West Asian? Literally none of them are the same. Even with "white" and "black" you're setting your ass on fire, you mean East, West, South, North White/Black? Do we even wanna start with Latino? Latino is probably even more so straddling a line between all that bullshit.

Hell, RACE doesn't make a lick of fucking sense because it's not actually "race" it's clearly 100% about ethnicity and even then it's more shallow than a puddle during a drought. Because even if we went with ethnicity it lacks any kind of intersectionality between identities. But we're just arguing within whatever the fuck the maker of those lists is doing every year.

Just as a sidenote, I know several Saami. That's why I spoke about them specifically. The one dude I know who used to be in my class, who's Saami has never considered himself anything but Norwegian and never really used Saami about himself, but does that make him any less Saami? He just IS a Saami, but he seems to think more of the location he's living. The other guy, he's like 40 year my senior, thinks of himself as a Saami, but his children are both Saami and ALSO half-Saami because of their mother. His children, slightly older than me, share that view about themselves, if you asked they'd probably just say whatever's more relevant to the question at hand. BUT!!! That's also just the people I know, and I also know that there are more Saami who consider themselves only Saami, regardless of their other parentage. 100% Saami, because it's none of anyone's business what their genetics are, they are Saami so deal with it.

Clearly this is 100% more complicated than whatever the fuck that list is making it, or any arbitrary race thinking, and it's complete bullshit to even include "race" when it's this poorly done and this surface level this crosses borderline offensive into straight up offensive racism.

The list is completely ridiculous because it actually tells us nothing. It's a completely arbitrary label slapped onto random characters, without any care what it'd actually mean in real life. Does a black person stop being black because they're also Latino? Or does a Latino stop being Latino because they're black? According to this list? This isn't a math equation where one cancels the other out, but according to the list it does. That's the problem, because it also perpetuates the idea that you can divide people into neat little boxes, and just ignore any kind of "complicated" intersections of a person's identity.

So for Elsa and Anna. Does their indigenous heritage from the second movie erase that they were/are also Disney Norwegian? Do they have the same view of themselves now? Or does one have stronger feelings towards one heritage than the other? Especially since they were raised completely without the knowledge of said heritage. How complicated is it to find out there's an entire half of your heritage you never knew, and now you're supposed to try and figure out how to handle that? Well who knows, because this is a question about identity that has never been answered, because only the people "living"* that reality can actually answer their own view on who they are and with what they identify as. *living in quotations because obviously they're just fictional. So the real answer would have to come from a creator of them. (Hell, just calling from the side, I'm mixed ethnicities, and I identify with both, but my sibling only identifies as one half, and really doesn't care about the other half/is ambivalent towards it. Does anyone have the right to override my siblings view about their own identity and what they want to be perceived as? Or what I want to be perceived as? That's why that list, and any comparable list or understanding of "race" or ethnicity are complete bullshit that should have been flushed long ago because it never includes the nuance of individual perception and identity.)

--

[chaoticallyfluffy]

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Thank you do much to @zorilleerrant for tagging me! It’s been so long since I’ve been tagged in one of these I’m so excited :D My word is JUICE.

—-

1: J (Unnamed WIP. Yes obviously Billy is the kid, who do you think I am?)

Just as he was about to start CPR, the kid opens his eyes, looking blearily up at him and breathing calmly as if he hadn't just died. No gasp of air to make up for at least five minutes of breathlessness, no panicked glancing around wondering why they're under tons of rubble. The kid just… blinks at him.

—-

2: U (Unnamed WIP, Clark's POV)

Ugh. Magic. He should have minded his own business from the start. Unfortunately, there's no way he can run from this now, not with Zatanna looking at him with so much hope in her eyes.

—-

3: I (From an almost completed one shot)

"... Is he high?" Barry questions. Victor turns around to glare at him. "What!? I'm just asking!"

—-

4: C (From chapter 6 of 'Learning to Live')

Captain Marvel pulls a jar of metal screws from… who knows where, and hands it to Clark with the most innocent face known to man. He was practically glowing. Hal has no clue whether he did this to screw (hah) with Clark or if he was genuinely just trying to help, but he honestly couldn't care less when he sees the resigned look cross Clark’s face before he eats the entire jar, glass and all, in seven seconds flat.

—-

5: E (from and unfinished fic called ‘Two Halves, Never Whole’)

Excuse him?? Was he just profiled by an old rich jerk with an ego big enough to purchase a gold encrusted pen? (Yes, you heard him right, there is a golden pen laying on the coffee table.) Just because Billy doesn’t have any money, a home, or any way to sustain himself doesn’t mean he’s a thief by default! He’s a hero for goodness sakes! Billy walks past the table, now lacking a golden pen, and plops down onto the ridiculously comfortable couch. Rich people are so annoying.

—-

Doing this made me realize that I dont have nearly as much writing done as I thought. It was really difficult to find all the sentences! Also I got tagged in like three more of these while I was working on this one! Am I supposed to do all of them? I want to but I’m not sure if I have enough drafts!

Tagging @teehhhhhhhhhhh and @wildglitch ! Anyone else is encouraged to join as well! I don’t know who has been tagged already or not.

Your word is “WORD”

[jimin-bangtan]

Chameleon Park Jimin 6

My Chameleon Park Jimin (PJM) Series (<link) [Parts 1-5] discusses the emotional, physical, & professional growth, adjustments, and changes Jimin has endured and experienced during his BTS journey, as I see it.

In my earlier posts, I had explained how Jimin had become a lightning rod for widespread, unexplained hate and criticism. Prior to releasing his first solo album FACE, online posters would ridicule Jimin for not having many writing credits - and for many other reasons, whether true or not. During BTS's "hiatus", Jimin was about to unintentionally demolish yet another foolish argument against him.

When Jimin had realized he was feeling lost and going through some issues during the pandemic quarantine, he finally approached his bandmates and explained his distress. They told him they had already noticed his situation and were giving him space to sort it out. They also gave him the advice to put his feelings into music.

Jimin then reached out to PDogg, a veteran BigHit producer, to ask for assistance in locating songs.  PDogg, instead, suggested that Jimin work with an in-house team to write his own songs for his story.  Jimin agreed and thus created the unusually small, 4-member Smeraldo Garden Marching Band (SGMB) production team and eventually his 1st solo album FACE, which honestly and openly poured out his raw emotions of despair and triumph.

The Situation

I have mentioned in the past that Jimin had previously been more open and shared quite a bit online with fans. I have described how Jimin gradually withdrew from social media, likely due to the unexplained harassment he received pretty much continually. His fans understood his choice and his circumstances, but also missed hearing from him.  By this time, closer fans had learned that when Jimin was working, he was even less visible in person and on social media, which during the hiatus meant next to no contact.

During Jimin’s work silence, fans still put out requests for his appearance or communication in order to vent and to let Jimin know that he was missed. Fans comforted themselves by knowing that whatever new project he was working on would be interesting, surprising, and well worth the wait. Humor was one way that fans managed the “Jimin droughts” they were collectively enduring.

In spite of the lack of direct fan contact through social media, fans were very excited when Jimin was occasionally seen through other means during this time. In January of 2023, Jimin shocked everyone with the release of a song collaboration (Vibe) with the idol he had always admired and hoped to work. The idol in question is an OG KPop singer/dancer, Taeyang of Big Bang. The project was a success, giving both of them their first solo Hot100 chart appearances. But Jimin’s year ahead was action-packed, and there was more success to come.

Closer to the release of FACE, when Jimin was even busier preparing for his debut promotional performances, fans can thank Jung Kook (JK) for occasional glimpses of Jimin that I don’t think would have occurred otherwise. BTS members at times pop in each other’s chats during Live fan sessions for brief interactions. When JK was doing lengthy Lives early in 2023, Jimin would pop in to say hello. Even though the encounters were brief, fans were excited to have encountered Jimin at all.

Before and after Jimin’s FACE debut, he was also seen when supporting other friends’ or members’ projects or completing his own Dior and Tiffany & Co. ambassador obligations. Event photos and magazine layouts were published fairly frequently. The fans were so desperate for every Jimin appearance that the magazines sold out immediately, and his Paris fashion show attendance produced massive, record-breaking crowds.

After his FACE promotional period, Jimin was seen briefly when leaving and returning to Korea via Seoul’s airport, but the public wasn’t sure why. Now that his promotions were done, what could he be doing now?

The Analysis

During this time, when Jimin was seen in public, outside of work, he remained dressed in his new comfortable, baggier style, with his wardrobe often displaying clothing from his Dior ambassadorship. On occasion, he was seen at the enlistment day of his members, as well as friends, who had left before him.  Jimin often arrived in his new baggy clothes, bucket hat, cloth mask, and shaggy hair to see off his members and friends. Gone were the different hair colors and sleek cuts. No more were the fitted jeans and the dangling earrings as well as most other jewelry and accessories.

Later in the year, the company released Jimin’s FACE documentary [trailer]. [See my Jimin’s Production Diary post.] Each member had recorded the process of creating their solo albums, which was later cleverly released as additional material. Fans finally got to see what Jimin had been doing during those silent spans of time. Jimin’s documentary showed the personal process of Jimin deeply involved in creating, writing, & recording his own songs and lyrics.

Jimin was very pleased with the process and the products his team created. His transformation, from the difficult experiences explained in FACE, was showing itself in how relaxed and content he appeared while both preparing and performing his work. In the documentary and other behind the scenes footage [trailer], it could be seen that Jimin also displayed strong, but considerate, leadership while writing and producing songs as well as contributing to choreography [full]  and video direction [full].  In the past, Perfectionist Jimin did not seem comfortable with this type of exposure, and therefore it was rarely revealed or provided.

There was a time, I have explained, when Jimin was very hard on himself and spoke in rather negative terms about himself and his work.  His perfectionism caused him to never seem pleased with his efforts and his results, even if others thought his outputs were stellar.  All he had been through and all the difficulties and pain he had faced, both physically and emotionally, often came out in his words, but mostly toward himself.

Strangely, Jimin was commonly known as an energetic, enthusiastic, pleasant, & supportive person.  It seems that the entire process of facing himself and his issues really was transformative to his feelings and attitude about himself.  The peace he had achieved was now being seen all over his appearance, speech, attitude, and emotions. The current behind the scenes footage [full] shows an artist who is peaceful, light, confident, and happy. There was even a noticeable improvement from his 1st solo album presentations to what was later discovered to be his 2nd solo album work, even though the music for both was created at the same time.

In reading many comments about Jimin’s journey, there has been a good number of people who have stated that they aren’t pleased with how Jimin’s appearance and behavior have changed so much from the Jimin of the past to the Jimin we are seeing today. I also had to consider the changes I was observing, which was likely an inspiration for me to sort out my own thoughts in my writing. However, as I stated before, I came to the conclusion that the past Jimin might have looked colorful and stylish, but inside there had been anguish.

The anguish revealed itself with the tears, anger, or personal criticisms we had become accustomed to seeing on occasion. The current Jimin is happier, more relaxed, more positive, and appears more accepting and tolerant of himself. He also seems less concerned about some of the public’s negative thoughts about him, his work, or his decisions.

At first, Jimin’s new hiatus style was hit or miss, but in time, it improved to him looking very nice but very different from the Jimin of old. Still, as in the early days, Jimin is the member who has changed the most from his arrival at BigHit and from his early stage persona for both professional and personal reasons. That’s why even with the updated circumstances, he was still Chameleon Park Jimin to me at that time.  He was still changing, and I was still trying to figure out exactly who he was or if this was, in fact, the new normal for Jimin.

Perhaps he is still sorting that out as well, and perhaps the time in the military will play a part in his figuring out more of his real life and stage identities, whether they end up being two separate parts he displays when appropriate or one unified identity for both stage and life. With the hiatus period still in progress, more changes in Jimin were yet to be revealed in 2023 and 2024.

To be CONTINUED in Part 7: Vocal decisions, Tony Montana 2.0, Jimin's persistence…

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Lisa Needham at Public Notice:

As soon as Trump won the election, Republicans immediately declared he had a mandate to do whatever he wanted. Florida Rep. Byron Donalds, for example, said Trump’s win showed that “it is the Trump agenda that the American people overwhelmingly wants.” But what, exactly, did the American people signal they wanted? With lots of help from the media, Trump spent the campaign pretending that the hyper-conservative and deeply unpopular Project 2025 agenda was not the blueprint for his second term. So it’s pretty rich now for Republicans to claim that a vote for Trump is a vote for whatever he decides he wants to do. And make no mistake — what Trump wants to do is Project 2025. 

Before digging into the steps Trump is taking to force the worst of Project 2025’s personnel and policies on the country, let’s tackle that whole mandate question first. Besides the fact that the Trump campaign deliberately obscured some of its most consequential policy goals to win votes, there’s the fact that his victory is proving far less decisive than it initially appeared. As votes have continued to be counted, Trump’s popular vote margin is going to be less than two percent, smaller than Hillary Clinton’s popular vote win in 2016 and in fact the smallest popular vote margin since 2000. Declaring you have a mandate doesn’t make it so, but it is The Republican Way going back to George W. Bush.  Back to Project 2025. Despite lying about it throughout the campaign, Trump wasted no time appointing several of the project’s authors to key positions in his new administration. Because they’ve been steeped in hypocrisy for so long, Republicans see nothing odd about Trump embracing Project 2025 after feigning a complete lack of familiarity and having called it “ridiculous and abysmal.”  Project 2025 co-author Russ Vought, who led the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) during Trump’s first term, got caught on tape saying the quiet part out loud during the campaign when he told undercover reporters to trust that Trump would implement a national abortion ban if he returned to power, despite his public statements to the contrary. But far from being rapped on the knuckles for linking Trump to a stance he ostensibly opposed, Vought has been rewarded by getting his old OMB job back. 

Besides being one of Trump’s abortion-whisperers, Vought is going to be instrumental in executing Trump’s plan to strip federal workers of job protections and replace them with hard-right partisans who see their only job as executing Trump’s wishes. Vought won’t stop there, though. He’s said we’re living in a “post-constitutional” time, which for Vought apparently means that Trump gets to turn the military on protestors and to cut spending whether Congress agrees or not. If this sounds to you a lot like an imperial presidency, of deforming the whole of the federal government to make it solely a weapon to implement Trump’s desires, you’re not wrong. And Vought is by no means alone in being one of the Project 2025 denizens who Trump is ushering into high-level government positions.

[...]

If nothing but these few Project 2025 goals were achieved, we’d have a radically partisan and unstable federal workforce, media regulation driven by which companies show the most allegiance to Trump, public schools that are more starved of funding than ever, decreased oversight of colleges and universities, and Medicaid that would be harder to obtain and keep. Trump has no mandate for these things because he not only didn’t campaign on them but he denied any link with Project 2025 at all. But because of the trifecta voters gave Republicans, they are likely to happen nonetheless. Democrats spent months trying to highlight the links between Project 2025 and Trump, only to have both sides of that equation and some mainstream media outlets insist it was fearmongering to make those connections. It wasn’t, and it isn’t. Project 2025 was always the blueprint for a second Trump administration, and these appointments are just the beginning.

Donald Trump sold a lot of his voters a bad bill of goods, and his supporters falsely insinuate that a majority of the country supports the Orange Felon and Project 2025’s agendas.

[pharrell-the-formation]

Your least favorite characters in Beholder (any part) and why?

Oh, interesting question. I think the most obvious and simple answer would be to list characters who have no depth, act more as plot devices, and are literally meant to make us dislike or hate them, like Bruno Hempf, Bruno Noel, Maria Curie's guard, Gerhardt Günzel, Hans Meinhardt. But I don't think that’s a satisfying answer, so here are a couple more.

Albert DeSalvo. I like Albert from the point of view of what he can symbolize. The fact that he is a reference to a real person is also interesting, but I think that in the end he came out as just an archetype of "polite sadistic maniac in a suit who is mysterious and kills because he loves to kill", which doesn’t interest me. The fact that he received ridiculously more popularity in the fandom than any of the other ministers and, in general, more than many characters, for me also played a role in the subconscious dislike of him. Also, well, his quests where he pushes us to torture and kill people are just a little uncomfortable for me. I know that "Beholder" is about suffering and hard choices, but when those acts of violence can easily be avoided and the game can continue easily without them, it simply loses all meaning for me personally.

Horatio Newport. Look. Horatio... isn't bad at his core. I'm willing to give him a chance, I like him better than any other character on this list, but he suffers from a severe lack of character depth and development. All he's done in the entire game is showed off when he had just met Evan and insulted his colleagues once or twice; even being friends with him feels like nothing. And the problem is that he could have more depth because he had details that suggested he could have gone through some interesting character arcs: his conflict with his family, his desire to get Weinberg’s approval, his potential feeling of loneliness from lack of friends, his young age. There's so much you can do with that... And yeah, his future self... well, he ends up being a pretty unpleasant person as well, and he creates a ton of problems during that period in the game, so I can’t say much positive about him either. A pity, honestly.

Peter Pranger. A notorious namesake of Dong and that guy from Conductor. Peter, compared to many other characters in the series, is not some serious criminal, he doesn't behave as a complete asshole with the main character, he has a nice design, he's a postman (:D), but he does that evil, selfish little evil, that disgusts precisely because it is extremely close to our everyday life and which can be done in no time and without extra effort, you just need to be egotistical enough (It's also scary to think how many people will die a slow death, unable to obtain the medications needed, because of him if we let him live..). Besides, his obsession with sex and women, which is evident in goddamn every line he says, starts to irritate pretty quickly.

Sabine Schwartz. It's complicated because I've learned to see a certain value in Sabine as a character: she's a product of her society and is obsessed with maintaining this image of an ideal citizen in the eyes of others, which is curious, but my awareness doesn't make her any less of an unpleasant, difficult-to-interact-with person for me. If something goes against her understanding of what's right - she gets angry. If Kim doesn't behave the way she expects her to, she doesn't try to find an approach to her child and try to understand her, she tries to forcibly remake her into what she wants her to be (Kim isn't one hundred percent perfect either, of course, but that's a different story). If her loved one breaks the rules, she'll sell them out without a wince. She doesn't trust her set-up husband and believes rather that he was the one who is fully to blame than that you can plant an apple on your neighbor in the "Beholder" universe. Also, her attempt to convince Frank that he chose Kim as his favorite kid and forgot about his son, when favoritism is clearly her thing, smells of hypocrisy and gaslighting to me. I think I would have been able to appreciate her character much more if the game had handled her a little differently in the end.

[cellarspider]

14/30 Gnosis, and lack thereof

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to the movie that could’ve been a contender, Prometheus. In this episode, a two-year-old poisons a man.

I’m not alone in thinking David is the most well-realized character in this movie. Michael Fassbender was given the most space to act through expression and reaction to others and his environment, which helps create an android character that has much more inner life than his human castmates. He also gets what I’d call the Data bonus: android characters can more easily get away with screamingly clunky exposition or explicitly stating the meaning of a scene. You can give them absolute gibberish if you want to, and it sounds perfectly logical when they say it.

[Video description: A small selection of technobabble from Star Trek: The Next Generation, mostly featuring Data.]

David is also the easiest to be sympathetic to, because people keep being assholes to him.

Yes, David has received mysterious orders from a mysterious man who’s still in stasis. It’s Peter Weyland. It’s obviously Peter Weyland, this is why David has the dream-reading helmet thing that felt so out of place at the start of the movie. This is also why Guy Pierce, a 45-year-old, was hired to play an infinity-year-old man. Weyland was going to appear as his ideal self in one of these dream sequences, but it was cut from the movie. So instead, we just have Vickers demanding to know what “he” wants, and the answer is “Try harder”.

Peter Weyland, beginning a trend for the company bearing his name, has an obsession with this alien stuff. …This trend was actually begun by Charles Bishop Weyland in a completely different continuity that also featured ancient alien contact with Earth, but hey, details. This Weyland wants results, damn it, and David gets an excuse to kill one of the crew.

Although it’s not quite that simple. The movie indicates that David can’t go against orders from the company, especially from Weyland. He has to “try harder”, and he’s brought back one of those alien urns that apparently nobody cares to examine but him. 

It’s got a goth lava lamp in it.

While we don’t get much indication David knows why this stuff is dangerous to organic life, I’ll give the movie a very tiny pass: it’s implied that David has figured out how to read the Engineer’s cuneiform script. He decants a droplet of Menacing Black Goo onto his (Weyland-branded) fingertip, and sets off to find a test subject.

Thank god, he chooses Holloway.

I don’t like not liking characters. I don’t generally anticipate seeing someone’s comeuppance, but this movie gets me damn close to that feeling. In the movie’s partial defense, some of this was probably intended. Mainstream American fiction sets a high bar for what a bigot looks like, and Holloway’s been clearing that. I’m less certain the movie knows everyone’s behaving like a bigot, but we’ll get to that eventually. But Holloway? Definitely. 

This creates a fairly interesting scene. One that even reaches towards good. David has the means to kill Holloway. The audience knows this. And we get to watch when he makes the decision to commit to it, and why. And, blessedly, it actually ties into an intentional theme of this movie.

Holloway’s still drunk and miserable–he’d previously muttered that the alien structure on the planet was “just another tomb.”

I, speaking hyperbolically, would consider that grounds enough to off him. He’s an archaeologist who can be sent into a drinking binge by finding a thing made by dead people. An archaeologist. That in itself is such a ridiculous indicator of how unfit this character is for his role.

But no, he wanted to meet his maker, “To get answers.” Sure, lots of people have existential questions they feel are important to them. That is understandable. Even clueless assholes can wonder about that. But it takes an especially hubristic asshole to decide they’re the one worthy of asking someone who might have the answer. 

Did anybody notice they didn’t bring any diplomats or orators on this trip? They didn’t bring any cultural exchange gifts with them when they approached the alien structure? They weren’t treating the Engineers as people, just something to discover.

David, someone else they’re not treating like people, asks Holloway “Why do you think your people made me?”, and the answer he gets is “Because we could.” David is quietly but openly disappointed in that.

This is the whiplash of this movie. We have the biggest bunch of shambolic assholes klutzing around, waiting to get killed off by the plot, and then we have David expressing the horror of Valentinian gnosticism.

In brief, because even the wikipedia page says “The theology [...] is extremely complicated and difficult to follow”, the strain of Christian gnosticism expressed by the 2nd century theologian Valentinus believes that the world was created by an ignorant being. They believed there was a benevolent god out there which was/produced Jesus, but the “demiurge” (lit. “craftsman”) who created the world was not this deity. The demiurge was an imperfect, lesser being, that believed itself to be the supreme god of the universe. In Valentinianism, as with other gnostic schools, to be born into the world was to be trapped within a creation of a creature that was prone to fits of abusive behavior.

Gnostic christianity was, at the time, an attempt to square a number of contradictory ideas: the incredibly influential ideas of Plato on the formation of the universe, the growing theology of the new Christian movement, and the examples of divine wrath and jealousy in Jewish scripture, that were hard to square with what early Christians saw as a less violent deity they wanted to worship. There were probably also some anti-Jewish Egyptian myths thrown in as well, depicting their god as a donkey-headed incarnation of the malevolent deity Set. Some may recognize that particular slander from its deployment against early Christians, including our first-ever depiction of Jesus’ crucifixion: a rude bit of graffiti.

In our time, there’s only one remaining gnostic (non-christian) religion with direct continuity to the period, the Mandaeans. Christian gnosticism was deemed heretical, when one of the many different gospels circulating at the time was selected as orthodox in the 4th century, along with an attendant theology. But it remains a fertile ground for philosophers, fiction-writers, and every once in a while someone reinvents bits of it when they hit upon contradictions in christian thought.

The latter seems to be the case with Ridley Scott. He’s sometimes described as an atheist, but his actual statements on the matter show he’s either casually gnostic or a deist, very much influenced by christian doctrine: 

“If we looked at the whole thing practically speaking, the Big Bang occurred and then we go through this evolution of millions, billions of years where, by coincidence, all the right biological accidents came out the right way. To an extent, that doesn't make sense unless there was a controlling decider or mediator in all of that. So who was that? Or what was that? Are we one big grand experiment in the basic overall blink of the universe, or the galaxy? In which case, who is behind it?”

https://www.bbc.co.uk/films/callingtheshots/ridley_scott.shtml

Tangent: that question came right after he’s quoted as saying “I think there's no originality [in modern films]. I think everyone is stealing from everyone else and going back to the originals. I usually go in for 20 minutes and then get up and leave.” This interview was back in 2006. The next year he’d direct American Gangster (loosely based on a biography), then Body of Lies (Roger Ebert called it "a James Bond plot"), then Robin Hood (it’s Robin Hood), then Prometheus, the movie I only watched because it seemed to be in dialog with a film he directed in 1979. Buddy, if that was your problem, you were part of the problem.

But anyway. We have a director who had stated interest in a christian-influenced cosmogony: he seems to state a belief that we exist because we are supposed to exist, rather than being a random event. This is a movie where he does seem to be trying to do something with that. He is beginning with that premise, and using Alien as the shared language to express it. He doesn’t know why we exist, but he can imagine why we would make someone exist.

Placing that in amongst these characters is bleak to the point of puerility, frankly. Why would we create a being like us? Well, this one asshole doesn’t know.

David, at this point in Prometheus, has already determined that humans are fallible creators. Hell, he’s decided the Engineers were also failable. He, y’know, witnessed how gooey one of their corpses was. But he’s yet to decide on whether humans are just ignorant, trying and failing to be good–as per Valentinus–or if they’re actively malevolent.

The fact that David doesn’t poison Holloway’s drink until just before handing it over does neatly show that he was quietly given a chance to answer that question. Holloway continues to be a jackass and, when asked what he’d do to answer the existential question he wanted to pose to the Engineers, he says he’d do “anything and everything”.

The movie eventually treats Peter Weyland as especially deluded in his self-serving quest to get the Engineers to answer his more selfish questions, but I don’t think his ego was unique in this movie.

On our journey into the movie this time, Prometheus has attempted to grapple with subjects its script hasn’t earned. Next time, it incorporates imagery it hasn’t earned. It’s worse than this scene, but in a far more subtle way.

If you want a neat look on european and middle eastern mysticism from an academic standpoint, Esoterica is a pretty damn good channel, put together by a self-described “dialectical materialist in the tradition of Structural Marxism”. I’ll happily take recommendations on other academic sources aimed at the general audience.

https://youtu.be/7EwRD6SzXws

https://st-takla.org/Feastes-&-Special-Events/Coptic-Nativity-of-Jesus-Christ-Milad-El-Masih/Coptic-Jesus-Incarnation-Christmas-03-Incarnation-of-the-Word-Book.html 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masbuta 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drabsha 

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407322241 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archon_(Gnosticism) 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sethianism

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[dis-agreeable]

seeing more and more aphobia (especially arophobia) just once again leads me to have less trust in anyone who isn't anywhere on the asexual and/or aromantic spectrum, BECAUSE:

allo people so clearly highlight a deep misunderstanding of these identities by viewing them as a void. using the definition of 'a lack of [romantic and/or sexual] attraction' gets skewed into something that is simply not there; therefore, why does it matter? how does it make any theoretical aspec identity different from cisgender heteronormativity, which is already seen as the 'default' by society? why celebrate or even pay any attention at all to an empty room?

this mindset was one i had to work so hard to overcome as a baby ace, especially when both my online and irl social spaces grew steadily less accepting of any a-spectrum representation. it was toxifying my relationship to my own identity by turning my 'lack' into a blank space, defined only by the absence of something. and truly, i do not think it is possible to realize how genuinely hard it is to grapple with basing yourself on AND having other people measure you by 'nothing' unless you have been through it personally.

so without the 'lacking' definition, what's left?

what i often point people towards is the 1972 asexual manifesto (especially those that refuse to believe that asexuality has roots in queer history). there is one quote especially that changed how i view myself and, in turn, aro and ace identities completely (emphasis my own):

“Asexual”, as we use it, does not mean “without sex” but “relating sexually to no one”. This does not, of course, exclude masturbation but implies that if one has sexual feelings they do not require another person for their expression. Asexuality is, simply, self-contained sexuality.”

the idea that what defined me wasn't an absence but rather a closed, self-sustaining circuit quite literally felt like a kick to the head. all the deep, dark fears i had about attaining other people's validity were gone. by imbuing my asexual identity with a foundation of acceptance, self-respect, and a commitment to myself and my happiness, it was easier to deal with the bullshit slung my way. it didn't erase the hardships i was experiencing, but it kept me from the feeling of broken, alien other-ness that was still clinging, despite my attempts at reassuring myself that my 'lack' was perfectly fine.

the ideas of asexuality and aromanticism are so inherently antithetical to cishet culture that you constantly see attempts to equate them with being Straight Lite™: "aces can still have sex!", "aromantic people can still be in relationships!", QPRs being seen as a necessity; people using the nuances of real people's lived experiences to create another execution of heterosexuality. as a result, people inside and outside the queer community reduce aspec expression as a cringy attempt to be different: emma watson being ridiculed for calling herself 'self-partnered,' questioning why aspec representation is necessary at pride events, harassment of those using microlabels (lithosexual, cupioromantic, etc) and loveless aros, the vilification of aroallos (saying "the idea that sex is sacred and can only be performed under specific conditions is puritanical and homophobic" until an aromantic person enters the equation). it's exhausting to see people who claim to be radically accepting of the extremes of sexuality turn around and insist aces and aros have to fulfill certain requirements to be considered a respectable identity, if that's even an option. it's exhausting to see people cite asexuality as tumblr tweens that didn't know better and grew out of it to the Right shade of queer. it's exhausting to see posts citing the asexual and aromantic community as a spiteful group bullying others to change the 'A', because obviously they hate allies. it's exhausting to have to steel myself around anyone, regardless of identity, and be prepared to justify my existence as a queer person.

this got to be a bit bloated so apologies for your dash. my posts don't get traction but i may turn off reblogs because i have better things than argue with people who already disrespect me. aces and aros of every shade i adore you <3

[kolebrew]

I'm Your Ken, Barbie Pt. 1 | Gojo X Reader

summary:

When you wake up and realize that everything is pinker then usual you find yourself concerned with more than just your dream house.

There are many kinks, and sexual activity past the first chapter... please be advised.

We are Black/POC in this household.

Every Barbie needs a Ken. Gojo is your ken.

'What the hell is that noise-'

“Ughhh who’s playing music it’s so early” No matter how many times you yell for your roommate to turn the volume down the music keeps going, in fact it feels like it's playing everywhere all at once. You love Lizzo but you don’t love Lizzo right now. Your pillow is over your ears and when you realize that the music is still going for what feels like forever you yell and you just want to scream. You adjust the pillow over your ears and can feel that your bonnet has come off your head.

‘So everything just got worse i see-FUCK’

“WOULD YOU SHUT I-”

You were completely stunned, more than stunned you were shocked. Suddenly you couldn’t even scream.

Oh yeah and everything was PINK! Or at least that's how the song that was playing went. Dam, maybe the song was catchy.

You slowly get off the bed and you refuse to address that the bed was a hot pink circle and your bed frame was a pastel heart. You were continuing to analyze the satin sheets and fuzzy rug when suddenly…

“HI BARBIE”

“AH!”

You tripped over your feet and fell next to the bed, when you sit up on the floor and crouch behind the bed you look to see who yelled “Barbie”

“Who the fuck is Barbie??” you ask yourself. When you look up you realize the room you were in had no walls, in fact the surrounding houses also lacked walls yet there was no draft coming in.

‘Wtf’

When you lock eyes with the woman who appears to have been the one who yelled at you the music seems to lower and the upbeat funk quiets enough for regular volume conversation?

“Um h-hi”

you see her waiving at you and so you wave back awkwardly before hiding behind the bed. You try to think of what to do, one minute you are sleeping in your bed in your apartment and next you are… apparently wearing a silk baby pink sleeping gown. Everything about this was ridiculous and pink. You try to think of your first course of action, which happened to be getting out of this gown and changing into something less… pink.

You were in a weird situation and have yet to process any of it yet you feel a very weird and sudden urge to take a shower and have breakfast? When you strip from the gown that was somehow your exact size you step into another pink room with a shower in it and well, water doesn’t exactly come out but you will NOT question that or open another can of worms. It felt like you had a daily routine and you were sidetracked, everything felt weird. When you go to the closet in your room you are glad to believe that maybe there will be something other than pink, you were right because there was the color blue… a lot. You try to forget it and switch to the simplest dress you can find and there are many dresses. You did look nice in them.

‘Okay, let's get the hell out of here ' you thought to yourself when you looked at the fridge and everything was plastic, you weren't a fan of eating plastic.

The only thing left to do was figure out how to get out of what looks like a play house, to your right is stairs and to your left is a slide… when in Rome you guess. You brace yourself from the top floor and take off the very uncomfortable pair of heels you had put on to of course match your outfit because what else would you do. You hold on tight to your dress and heels as you make your way down a very long long set of loops and turns.

By the time you make it down there you are greeted by another woman in what is an outrageously gorgeous dress with her hair pinned up and styled without a hair out of place. It’s with that you realize you didn’t do your hair and you didn’t wake up with a bonnet so your hair must be-

“I love your hair Barbie!” you wonder what it is she just said. “Oh- um me?”and she nods her head with a big smile, when you feel your hair you realize that you have a large curly and kinky set of hair…and oh my god it feels amazing to you. “Thank you… Barbie?” “You’re welcome Barbie!”

That’s when the realization dawned on you. The pink life sized playhouse, plastic food, no water, perfect hair and clothes and-

‘Oh my god im a Barbie’

… You find yourself wandering and come across a huge beach with waves that shined like plastic because they were plastic, then if it couldn’t get any weirder a ‘Barbie’ comes up to you and says “Oh there you are Barbie, I’ve been looking all over for you, your Ken is looking for you.” with a smile she turns her head and points at a figure coming out from a shack.

“Oh my god” “Who’s god?” “No one Barbie.”

You walk a little closer and until you could get a good look at the man in front of you. He was something but definitely lived up to the Ken name. When he got close enough to you to shoot you a smile you faltered.

“Hi Barbie” his voice was smooth like silk and even though you weren’t a small girl he towered over you.

“Hi Ken.” was all you could let out

“Can we talk, back at your dream house Barbie.” your mouth was wide open but you managed to respond. “Yes Ken.” he led the way although it was technically your dream house, when you appeared in front of the steps he smiled wide at you.

“Barbie, i’ve been looking all over for you, i’ve searched for you.”

“Oh okay, I'm sorry I dont know whats going o-”

“I wanna be boyfriend girlfriend with you. You are my Barbie, Barbie.”

You didn’t know what else to say once again and this time he held the tips of your fingers of both hands, so the most responsible thing you could say was- “okay Ken.”

His smile fainted into a smirk and he stepped even closer to the point you had to lean your head back to avoid touching the tip of his nose with yours. As he moved his hands up your arms to grasp you he says. “I picked out a name for myself that you can call me, that I would like if you called me.”

“What’s your name?” you couldn't help but wonder.

“Gojo Satoru, I’m your Ken, Barbie.”

[polarisbibliotheque]

So like, less of a suggestion and more of a question - I recently found your works and have just been blown away by the details (like, seriously, you're on the top of my favorite writers list) and just how... perfect you craft everything? I genuinely inspire to be like you, but the problem is that I've hit a rut - I'm super unsatisfied with my writing, and whenever I try to get back into the writing zone, I just fall flat. Is there any advice you could give on how to improve one's writing? What would be your tips and tricks at getting into that writing zone?

(Do apologize me taking SO LONG to answer, but I had some health emergencies the last couple of weeks and ended up in the hospital – I’m doing better now, chilling at home and trying to recover. My doctor is 90% sure I have Crohn’s Disease and I’m having many ups and downs trying to find a proper treatment that I seem to respond to. BUT…)

…I hope you are aware of how much you made me smile, blush and almost indulge into my teary eyes upon reading this. Hahahaha seriously, thank you SO much!! I can’t even thank you enough, I’m just in pure awe that another being in this big ol’ world we live in thinks so highly of my writing!!

I mean, not even I think that highly of my writing. Notice a pattern? ;)

One thing I learned being an artist – not only writing, I also draw, play the piano, write music on my free time/when inspiration hits, everything creative, I’m there, doing it – is that we’re never really satisfied with our work. We will always think we could’ve done something better, and we’re definitely going to be pretty “meh” about a lot of things we do – even when other people think it’s a masterpiece.

And that is good! We’ll always strive to perfect our skills! You just have to remember to appreciate the work you do even when you’re not completely satisfied with it. You will get to where you want to – but then, you’ll wish to improve even more! And that is awesome!

But hey, I do have some tips and tricks on improving and getting into that writing vibe!

For the people getting to the party now, my main tip on improving is here, in the first part of the answer for this ask! Now, now…

(long post below, as expected YEE BEEN WARNED!)

Regarding improving:

Read. A. Lot. Hahaha I know that’s quite an obvious one, but it’s really important. Personally, I think reading mindlessly just to fill a quota of “I read 25 books a month” doesn’t work. It works when you absorb it – when you allow yourself to plunge into the world of the book you’re reading, feeling the characters, the emotions, the settings… That helps you build your “mental library” so to speak! And sometimes you’ll find things and expressions you like that you might use both on your daily speech and while writing – for instance, I have this awful thing of saying “there’s a lack of wings to my words” whenever I’m speechless, because of Homer’s Odyssey. I freaking LOVE that book, I loved that expression, I use it all the time, and it has definitely bled into my writing.

WRITE! A LOT! Write bad stuff, good stuff, short 2 pages thing-ys that you go “hey that’s a good idea!” but you’ll never actually turn into a full story, random scenes, fanfiction, stupid fanfiction, serious fanfiction, self-indulgent stories, stories for your family, stories for yourself, stories for whoever wants to read or not, dreams that could be great stories… The point is to write. It’s much like drawing or playing the piano: if you don’t practice, you won’t get better and you won’t develop your style. The more you practice, the better you get! So don’t be afraid to write bad stuff, cringy stuff, or ridiculous stuff – or even stuff you thought would be awesome and turns out bad, or stuff you think will never turn into anything that turn amazing! One way or another, you’ll be refining your craft!

Identify what you like on writers you admire. I started noticing that while reading The Silmarillion. The Lord of the Rings is my favorite book since I read it for the first time when I was 15, but I didn’t pick up The Silmarillion until I was around 22 – and by then, I started underlining with a light pencil all the phrases I liked most, something my mom did on her old books when she was around my age. I then started taking a look at what I liked about Tolkien’s writing so much – and in other books too: what kind of phrases seemed to resonate more with my soul. Which ones brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my face. And then I notice I tend more to the unconventional ways of describing things.

For instance, instead of going like “she was beautiful, with pale skin under raven dark hair, blue eyes shining on her fair face” I tend to go for the unconventional, sort of eerie, not so much taken for granted kind of describing “her beauty glowed like the first pale star to glisten in the evening sky, under a deep sea of dark, velvety hair, making her eyes twinkle like sapphires with a smart look while carrying the light she kept in her soul”. If I had to, the second one would be how I’d describe Arwen or Lúthien, giving them that ethereal otherworldly beauty they have. It's also the one that evokes more feelings inside of me rather than just a mental image.

That’s why I try to describe some things in a different light. When I’m writing, I want people to feel something – but how can you describe that feeling of joy when you hug someone you love and the whole world fades for a minute? That’s when I go for the “his heart bled with gold while his hands never wanted to let them go. For a minute, time seemed to stop and there was nothing else but his heartbeat intertwining with theirs, beating as the same song – even if theirs was more melodic while his was more melancholic. It was that kind of tune that made his lungs not remember how to breathe and his eyes pour – while his lips reflected all the gold that cascaded from his heart.” It’s a quick (rather ridiculous) example, but I do think about some things: how when I feel like that, I tend to have a hard time breathing and I do cry, but it’s because I want to smile so much I cannot contain it. Then I try to describe those feelings with metaphors and poetic stuff because I’m a melodramatic bitch.

Jokes aside, it’s because I like that sort of writing that has that beauty behind it – or more of a melancholic approach. It’s what resonates the most with me and I adopted it, even if sometimes it feels too… Abstract. I like that ability of people piecing the abstractness together and having their own interpretation – and that’s what makes people have different feelings while reading the same thing.

Is this for everyone? Absolutely not. I bet some people despise all that poeticness I like to put on words to lace them like a painting, you know? So, the more you re-read the things you like, you’ll start identifying what resonates with you and you can apply that to your own writing!

And that doesn’t mean you’ll have to be locked on that writing style as well. I’m currently trying to finish a book (I hope someday I can publish it) which is a cyberpunk style story, with lots of inspiration from Cyberpunk 2077, Blade Runner, John Wick (yes, Keanu Reeves sends his regards) and all that poetic writing doesn’t quite fit there. I’m using more of a direct approach, but there’s a lot of existentialism and reflecting on overcoming grief, trauma, owning your own life and contemplating one’s own mortality – and that’s where that poetic, metaphoric, melancholic, bittersweet characteristic of my writing style comes into play. And then everyone starts cursing and shooting each other again :)

Having a style doesn’t mean getting stuck in it – it means knowing when and where to use it!

Now regarding getting into the writing zone:

I freaking ADORE music and it helps me A TON while I’m writing. It’s like setting the mood. I’m trying to be sexy, or mysterious, or having that vampire-y vibe? Depeche Mode playlist it is. Fight scenes? Metal and Electronic. I need to freaking focus and get to work without thinking too much about the music (or start dancing like crazy whenever a song I love comes in and there I am, dancing and singing in my room at 3 a.m)? Piano playlists – classic, modern, everything and anything, as long as it is piano.

Playing music that goes with what I’m writing also helps. For my cyberpunk book, for instance, I put on the Cyberpunk 2077 OST playlist/radio on, or I search for “Cyberpunk Ambience/Playlist” on Youtube and let it roll while I write. For my King Arthur stories (yes, still working on them), I put on Celtic music compilations, Enya, Loreena McKennitt or the piano playlists. For my vampire stories, be the medieval or the near-future one, dark piano, Dark Wave, etc. Perhaps searching for that one playlist that has to do with your story setting and listening to it for some time might get you in the zone!

I also usually write deep in the night. Because I’m a spawn of Dracula. After everyone at home has gone to sleep, I make myself some hot tea, sit on my computer, start listening to music and write. That’s because I know I won’t be interrupted, and I can do just that. Sometimes, I start writing at 1 a.m, other times earlier, other times later. Try to notice when your ideas seem to flow better and when you get more into the zone – but please, don’t be unhealthy as I am and go to sleep at a decent hour. I’m not an example here with my sleeping schedule hahahaha

Cringy moment: when I’m stuck, I act the last scene I wrote as one of my characters in the shower and, usually, ideas start to come in (and I have to get off the shower). Hahahaha now that’s just a weird one, but I have NO idea why, my best ideas arise in the shower. Water has a weird effect on me, so sometimes I just stand there with warm water pouring over my head and, lo and behold, I’m exiting the shower in a hurry because I just got my writer mood back HAHAHA so maybe some very mundane activity – like cooking, taking the trash out, cleaning the room – might be where your writer brain will come to life. You never know.

Needless to say, I talk to myself a lot, sometimes as if I’m talking to the characters. That is a very bad coping mechanism I developed when I was being bullied at school – I used to pretend Dante was with me when I was alone or something had happened and I needed someone by my side, so nowadays I have a very easy time writing this man. I started doing that with some of my characters, and that goes for repeating lines or part of the stories I’m writing to see if I can get un-stuck. It’s not the greatest of things, but it works. My neighbors might think I’m crazy, though xD

When I’m completely unmotivated or I keep staring at the blank page without being able to write, I try to immerse myself in what I’m writing about. So, if I’m stuck on my cyberpunk book, I watch some Cyberpunk 2077 let’s plays, I re-watch the Edgerunners anime, I re-watch Blade Runner, I re-read some parts of Do Androids Dream of Electrical Sheep? or I, Robot, I listen to Blade Runner’s soundtrack, I even try to play Cyberpunk 2077 (while praying not to get motion sickness or not having my pc exploding from overworking). If I’m stuck on my King Arthur works, then I re-watch the 2004 movie (may the gods bless Ioan Gruffudd and his wonderful Lancelot and Mads Mikkelsen as my beloved Tristan), re-read the 3 books on the Chronicles of Arthur series, listen to some Celtic music, research Arthurian stories for hours on the internet, search for my encyclopedias at home to see if they have something on King Arthur, read obscure translated manuscripts from ancient times on it … So, immersing yourself on reading, researching, listening to music, watching movies, playing videogames, listening to stories, watching series, reading mangas, watching anime, documentaries, going to the movies, basically doing anything that has to do with the theme you’re writing, may get you in the mood. Next time you sit down to write, it might flow wonderfully!

I don’t force myself to write, though. If I do, I usually can’t write a single decent word and I’ll hate it. If things aren’t flowing – and this I learned with my mom, who also draws – I leave it for a while and go do something else. Maybe I’ll have some warm tea, or watch a completely unrelated movie, or read my current book, or talk to my parrot in the kitchen, play some piano, draw a little, or just take a good nap. My mom says it refreshes the head and the eyes, and when you come back to it, you’ll be a lot more inclined to find things that weren’t working and let those creative juices flow.

I also have a very weird search history and I’m not ashamed of it. All writers do, and it’s better to have a weird search history than not knowing what you’re talking about, honestly. And sometimes, researching takes a lot more time than writing and might get you motivated – time spent learning is never wasted. Even if you’re learning what kind of dates grow in Greece and are offered to Apollo (bless his heart).

Sometimes, I write something completely unrelated, with a very different theme, and stupidly goofy – and that gets me back to the writing vibes. Sometimes there’s just this need of writing something for the sake of writing, and you just want something foolish to make you smile like a goof. It’s valid and it might be your ticket out of writing-rut-land.

Now some little uncalled for advices:

I spent too long being self-conscious and too serious about it. If it’s not your style, don’t force it. Some people need structure, other people thrive in chaos – know what’s your style and go for it. I hate planning novels, for example. But I will outline the main points of the story and the ending – the rest, well, the characters have to show me whatever else they’re doing, and I have to go with it. Sometimes there are huge arcs I didn’t plan as a main point of the story, but they pop up in the middle of it and they are important – I like leaving that room for impromptu writing/creating. So, find out how it works for you, not how it works for everyone else.

You don’t have to create masterpieces right at the first time you’re writing. Take my King Arthur thing-y for example. I wrote the full story when I was 15. When I was in college, I decided to re-write it. And then, when I was at work, I decided to re-write the re-write. And now, I just took all my files, read them, thought about it all, outlined a whole new story and decided to write anew. Not re-write, but take all that work and write as if I had never written anything before – in the original file, the main characters were 15 years old and in school, now they have their jobs at Universities and work on the secret society that is now a lot more fleshed out and built with loads of new characters around (including a new one I created yesterday after months not thinking about it).

If I hadn’t written the Twilight-sort of embarrassing thing when I was 15, I wouldn’t have this whole universe, characters and story to build upon nowadays. It wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was a good idea – and I’ll keep working on it until I’m happy with it. It’s been 13 years I’m working on it now, maybe when it reaches its 15th anniversary, I’ll be able to finally let it see the light of day!

Don’t listen to the “NEVER DO THIS!!” advices. Seriously. Writing is a form of art – and, as in all art, there isn’t a right or wrong. By all means, see what people are saying it’s bad and you should never do – I watch and read those advices so I can learn to be better too! – but don’t take it to heart. As Captain Barbossa would say, it’s more of a guideline than rules set in stone. Sometimes, something people say you should NEVER EVER do is something that works perfectly fine for you and your style of writing. Learn to make up your own mind: learn new things, listen to advices, but absorb those that resonate with you and leave those that don’t. That’s how you create your own opinion about things and how you find your writing style!

One fun thing to point out on this as an example: me, my mom, my sister and my dad ADORE reading. My sister loves Jane Austen, my mom is a super fan of Dostoyevsky and Russian literature, while my dad lives for Isaac Asimov and all things sci-fi. I love sci-fi, my mom can’t stand it. I read Dante’s Inferno in a week and my mom couldn’t get past the first verses. My sister can’t read poetry at all and is terribly bored by Lord of the Rings. My dad read my Chronicles of Arthur books and even told me to buy the complete the series. Me and my sister enjoyed Khaled Hosseini’s books a lot, but my mom never felt like reading them.

All of this to say: it’s not a matter of who’s more intellectual than the other, it’s a matter of who likes which kind of literature and writing styles. Some people are more comfortable with one way of writing or a certain kind of literature and can’t stand others – and that’s ok. Writing is pretty much the same. THERE ARE NO FIXED RULES! BE A REBEL!

If it helps you: character sheets. Around 8 years ago – or more – I searched and searched online for the character sheet that could help me the best. I had never done it before and thought it was quite useless, until I downloaded one and started filling the infos on my main characters of my Arthurian sort of story. Lo and behold, they became SO MUCH BETTER and that’s when I started rewriting everything: I understood all characters a LOT better and made better decisions when writing them. It doesn’t work for everyone, though, but it’s a lot of fun for me. Currently, I don’t use it much because I now know what are the main things I need for my characters to seem alive, but it’s always nice to have a reference when you’re writing.

My cyberpunk story, for instance, it has A BUNCH of characters with scars, different hair colours, different eye colours, the way they dress, birthmarks, cyber-implants, cyber-prothesis, dressing styles… And sometimes I get lost in it. So it’s nice keeping a character sheet when I go like “wait, she has burn marks on the left arm or the right arm…?”

And keeping a file on worldbuilding might be helpful as well. I noticed that writing my cyberpunk thing. The first thing I wrote was a huge file explaining the city, the factions, the districts, people’s styles, who are the viruses, the sub-types of viruses, the political parties, the police and secret police, the difference between artificials and organics, how does access to the world works, what is the Ocularis system, the most important corporations, their names, their owners… And all those things will probably never appear on this story.

But I felt a HUGE difference. Instead of info-dumping right at the beginning to make the reader understand how the world is built and how it works, I started it right at an important point in the story. No one knows anything about how things work, but, as the characters speak to each other, they talk about so many things that the reader catches things and pieces together how all things are organized.

Don’t try to explain everything. Tying with I said before, if you have a very good idea of how things work, how the characters relate to each other, how they react and how they think, you won’t need to info-dump. I usually think I’m seeing my characters going about their day and that is ALL I’m describing: what they are saying, feeling, thinking and doing. If I feel something is missing for people to fully understand, then I add something quite minimal to help. But I don’t overexplain: people are intelligent and they can piece things together.

Don’t go full Marvel movies and explain everything as if no one can understand unless you say it. Go Nolan and try to make people understand with images, feelings, glances, metaphors and such. It’s very effective in writing! (Don’t get me wrong, I do like Marvel movies, but they have become those kinds of movies that require little mental effort because literally everything will be explained in a huge monologue or through dialogue. You don’t always need dialogues – and if you say “oh that’s too ambiguous and people won’t be certain about it” that’s the beauty of art: it’s always up to interpretation)

Having someone to read and give you feedback might be very helpful too. I have a few friends every now and then I send some of my stories so they’ll read and give me an honest feedback. I try to listen to their opinions and refine my work – but if I think they critique doesn’t make sense, I thank them anyway and keep on doing my thing. Like I said, know when to take what makes sense and when let go of something that doesn’t. Also: feedback is NOT a personal attack. DON’T TAKE IT TO HEART. See it always as something you may need to improve – and you’ll improve quicker.

At the end of the day, writing is art. And all art is relative.

Your art will be great to some and horrible to others – and that’s ok! Again, learn to NOT make it personal (the critiques, I mean, because art is always personal and that’s wonderful, I think).

And repeat after me: you will not please everyone. The point is to make yourself proud. You’ll find your people along the way.

Do it because you love. Do it because it comes from your heart, from your soul. The world has become so filled with content, mindlessly created by artificial intelligence so we will keep consuming, that things have lost so much of their soul.

To make art, to write, is to have soul. If you have that heart, that passion in your work, it will show – and people will follow. When you sit to write, don’t make it a chore, don’t make it an aesthetic tiktok post, don’t follow the routine of this or that famous artist – do what you have to do and let your heart flow. Do it for you.

I think that’s the main advice I can give. Don’t do content to post on social media and look good, do your art. Push your boundaries, test new things, write in ways you never did before, but do your thing.

When everyone is doing the same thing over and over again, you’ll realize your words will stand out by doing what you want to do.

Again thanks for attending my TED Talk xD

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 29: Seanchan

Let's get right to the point: Spoilers spoilers spoilers. This book, last book, next book, every book. Don't like? Don't read. I'm in a hurry, no time for big explanations.

We have a new chapter icon! This is the very buggy helmet of the Seanchan, which will be showing up whenever the Empire is the primary driver of events of a chapter.

Reining up before the inn, his eyes went past the prisoners his soldiers held near the village well to the long gibbet marring the village green. It was hastily made, only a long pole on uprights, but it held thirty bodies, their clothes ruffled by the breeze. There were small bodies hanging among their elders. Even Byar stared at that in disbelief.

Considering how awful the Seanchan are as a nation, you really have to appreciate how the Whitecloaks manage to be so deeply morally lacking as to be the bad guys during a colonial style invasion.

Also, I guess it's appropriate we're seeing these the Seanchan get introduced in a chapter that starts on a Whitecloak, since both represent the modern equivalents of Aridhol's paranoia to a large degree. The Seanchan also somewhat end up eclipsing them as the "With friends like these..." player of the setting.

“Cut them down,�� Bornhald said wearily. “Cut them down, and make sure the villagers know there will be no more killing.” Unless some fool decides to be brave because his woman is watching, and I have to make an example.

Just so you don't think that Bornhald is a reasonable authority figure in all this. He's as good as Whitecloaks get in this time, but that's still not very much.

Bornhald’s requests for information from the Sea Folk had been met with silence. Amador did not hold the Atha’an Miere in good favor, and the attitude was returned with interest.

Oh no, I can't believe that Amador's irrational xenophobia is coming to bite them in the ass now that they need the xenos. Not even Pikachu could be surprised at this.

I would kinda like to know how the disdain was born though. Do Whitecloaks disapprove of boobies? Do the Sea Folk not let Questioners kill their sailors? What ridiculous pretext have the Whitecloaks come up with?

“My Lord Captain, he—he says you are moving too many men too close to Toman Head. He says the Darkfriends on Almoth Plain must be rooted out, and you are—forgive me, Lord Captain—you are to turn back at once and ride toward the heart of the plain.”

Oh no! The authoritarians who value unquestioning loyalty have been subverted by the very enemy they wish to destroy.

Even this Jeral dude knows this order is not a great one, poor dumb bastard.

“The sins of the mother are visited to the fifth generation,” Byar quoted, “and the sins of the father to the tenth.” But he looked uneasy. Even Byar had never killed a child.

Moms sin less because they've got less taint in them, I guess.

Also JFC Byar are you seriously okay with this?

“Has it never occurred to you, Byar, to wonder why Carridin has taken away our banners, and the cloaks of the men the Questioners lead? Even the Questioners themselves have put off the white. This suggests something, yes?”

It does! But even Bornhald doesn't dare say it, even as he plots his (completely justified except for how it doesn't go far enough) treason.

“Now, young man, you will tell me everything you know about these strangers, yes? If you need to think on what to say, I will send you back out with Child Muadh to consider it.”

Again, I cannot emphasize this enough: There are no good Whitecloaks. Not even Bornhald. Thankfully, we're done with them for now.

When Seanchan ships anchored off the coast, the villagers who drew up to defend their homes were rent by lightning from the sky while small boats were still ferrying the invaders ashore, and the earth erupted in fire under their feet. Domon had thought he was hearing nonsense until he was shown the blackened ground, and he had seen it in too many villages to doubt any longer. Monsters fought beside the Seanchan soldiers, not that there was ever much resistance left, the villagers said, and some even claimed that the Seanchan themselves were monsters, with heads like huge insects.

You gotta hand it to these Toman Head guys, in a world themed around the loss and corruption of information the further from its creation it gets, they manage to get just about every detail right.

New mayors were chosen by the Seanchan, and new Councils, and any who protested the disappearances of the women or having no voice in the choosing might be hung, or burst suddenly into flame, or be brushed aside like yapping dogs.

I wonder how the Seanchan are choosing to elevate the peasantry. Are they picking successful, rich types who seem compliant or something else?

The eruptions died as quickly as they were born, spray from them blown across the deck. Where they had been, the sea bubbled and steamed as if boiling.

Say what you want about the White Tower's failings (goodness knows I'm going to), for over 3,000 years they've kept their corner of the world safe from this crap. For all their failings, they certainly haven't been useless.

Then the armored figure removed his helmet, and Domon stared. He was a woman.

Domon is of course extra panicky about this because of the prophecy that no man of woman bo-

Wait, that was that other guy. JRR Shakespeare.

If this woman wore a dress, no one would look at her twice. He eyed her and revised his opinion, that cold stare and those hard cheeks would make her remarked anywhere.

She also probably doesn't have the body shape or way of carrying herself for the expected formalwear of the west, being far more muscled and disciplined than the average noblewoman.

The two women dressed as women were coming up from the longboat, one drawing the other—Domon blinked—by a leash of silvery metal as she climbed aboard. The leash went from a bracelet worn by the first woman to a collar around the neck of the second. He could not tell whether it was woven or jointed—it seemed somehow to be both—but it was clearly of a piece with both bracelet and collar.

There is so much to say here but since the sheer horror of this isn't evident yet, let's just all be disgusted by this form of chattel slavery for a moment and then move on. I don't want to use all my good invectives right now.

And I make no claim to be of the Blood. Not yet. After Corenne. . . . I am Captain Egeanin.

Well we'll see what you get after Corenne, Egeanin. But hello for now! It's funny to think how intertwined you and Domon are even now.

“To obey, to await, and to serve. Your ancestors should have remembered.”

Yeah god forbid things go weird after a thousand years. The Seanchan are way too high on their own supply, especially when you consider the textual evidence that the invaders themselves have been pretty fully absorbed into the upper echelons of those they've invaded and are thus barely even the ancestors of the High Blood.

A dark-eyed man in his middle years, with an old scar above his eyes and another nicking his chin, his name was Caban, and he had nothing but contempt for anyone this side of the Aryth Ocean. That gave Domon a moment’s pause. Maybe they truly do be. . . . No, that do be madness.

I'm impressed Domon got him to talk at all, to be honest. I'm also wondering where else Domon can think the Seanchan are from at this point. He knows all the major naval players.

“Oh. That is the First Watcher. Not the one who sat in the chair when we first came, of course. Every time he dies, they choose another, and we put him in the cage.”

One can't help but wonder how long Falme would have lasted against this initial Seanchan strike. One also wonders why people always remember the whole "They bring order" propaganda and never remember how they enforce that order.

He guided Spray to a place at one of the docks, and wondered, while the crew tied the ship fast, if the Seanchan might buy some of the fireworks in his hold. None of my business.

Moral cowardice, Domon. Though of course, his questions already show that he doesn't really think this. He wouldn't be our POV if he did.

A hulking creature with a leathery, gray-green hide and a beak of a mouth in a wedge-shaped head. And three eyes.

Have we met before?

The Seanchan captain had something wrapped in a piece of yellow silk, Domon noted warily. Something small enough to carry in one hand, but which she held carefully in both.

Domon doesn't even try to deny to himself what she has found, because there's really no point.

“Some of them be on your side?” Egeanin frowned over her shoulder at him, obviously puzzled.

"What other side is there other than Empire?"

The man’s hands went white-knuckled gripping his knees, and there was suddenly sweat in his voice. “I have sworn the oaths, Captain. I obey, await, and serve.”

And how many people had to be tortured and killed for him to come to this level of dedication so quickly? At least the First Watcher and their successors. Presumably more.

Domon understood why the Seanchan could allow the people as much freedom as they did. He wondered if he would have had nerve enough to resist. Damane. Monsters.

Something something monopoly on violence. Another thing that the One Power pretty handily provides, since even the "monsters" ultimately derive from its applications.

Two men appeared in the doorway at the far end of the room. One had the left side of his scalp shaved, his remaining pale golden hair braided and hanging down over his ear to his shoulder. His deep yellow robe was just long enough to let the toes of yellow slippers peek out when he walked. The other wore a blue silk robe, brocaded with birds and long enough to trail nearly a span on the floor behind him. His head was shaved bald, and his fingernails were at least an inch long, those on the first two fingers of each hand lacquered blue.

Since the Seanchan are a fictional culture, I have absolutely no regrets in pronouncing their fashion choices "ugly as sin".

Domon imitated her with alacrity. Even the High Lords of Tear would no demand this, he thought.

Something worth remembering when we meet them and have a chance to consider the things they demand that perhaps the Seanchan would not.

After the Return, new names will be called to the Blood. Show yourself fit, and you may shed the name Egeanin for a higher.

Or a lower. Just saying.

“I do collect old things, High Lord, from times past. There do be those who would steal such, did they lay easy to hand.”

Another great Aes Sedai lie. They're just so powerful.

“Unshaven dog! You speak of giving the High Lord what Captain Egeanin has already given. You bargain, as if the High Lord were a—a merchant! You will be flayed alive over nine days, dog, and—”

I have a suspicion that even in Seanchan proper, this particular rank exists in part to vent anger in place of the High Lords and Ladies while allowing them to seem merciful by not permitting such grandiose threats to be followed through. Sort of a hideously inverted version of the court jester.

Domon took one look at the girl and pulled his eyes away with a strangled gasp; her white silk robe was embroidered with flowers, but so sheer he could see right through it, and there was nothing beneath but her own slimness.

Not creepy at all. Also fun to note that it's been a mere six chapters since our last naked lady incident and while this isn't been "all ladies must be naked" it's still interesting how we went from a very chaste book one to this.

Ah well. Next time, we check back in with Rand as the plot remembers that we're only three-fifths of the way through the story and that he really shouldn't have the plot coupons just yet.