#like i get it; he's a young; conventionally attractive guy but you know who else is? gabe

[notmoreflippingelves]

Unpopular opinion: Elena of Avalor fandom edition! Mateo isn't the sweet dorky magician the wiki (and some fans) tends to present, he is just as competitive as (of not more than) Gabe and can be really selfish and arrogant. And he never really gets called out on his flaws or misdeeds as much as the other characters.

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

Yes, I'm not sure if it's my contrarian hipster brain seeing he's popular within the fandom and just doing it's natural "hype backlash" as result, or what. But my overall reaction to him is "meh" at best and low-key annoyance at worst. Maybe it's just me, but I definitely feel that whenever Elena, Naomi, Gabe, Isa, or especially Esteban are in the wrong, the narrative will have an explicit, impossible to ignore "what the hell hero" moment where they learn their lesson. But when Mateo is the one at fault, he's more likely to be met with nothing more than a brief slap on the wrist--and that's assuming he's called out for his selfishness/impulsiveness/shortsightedness at all. Which he often is not.

[fingertipsmp3]

I will literally with no self awareness give out the advice of “just ask him out! What’s the worst that could happen?” whilst not asking my own guy out because the worst that could happen is I could die

[heavenlymorals]

Arthur Morgan's Depression

(Warning: Spoilers for RDR2 and mental health issues)

Arthur Morgan is depressed. Yes, I know the writers haven't exactly come out and said that he is depressed, but it does not take a genius to see that Arthur Morgan is a man who deals with many demons and monsters. Arthur Morgan has some sort of functional depression, and it is shown in many ways. In many missions, he seems downtrodden and sad, but he goes along with it anyway because what else can you do? He talks about himself in such a degrading manner in the mirror, and not just in a way that we all do sometimes, but in a way that invokes actual hatred of himself.

He thinks he's ugly when he's a conventionally attractive man. He thinks he's dumb when he's very witty and smart. He gets knocked down for his intelligence a lot by both Dutch and Hosea (we, as a fandom, need to stop pretending that Hosea is perfect because he really isn't). I know that dudes generally joke like that a lot, but those two aren't his “friends”; they are quite literally his father figures. It's different. His journal is filled with self-doubt, pain, and a general apathetic outlook on life.

But as I was playing “A Quiet Time,” one interaction between Lenny and Arthur stood out to me.

“Why ain't you never married?”

“'Cause no one will have me.”

In the context of this mission, I think this was written as an “oh damn” kinda joke, something out of left field to make the player laugh. But after thinking about it more, I realized something.

If you guys follow my posts, then you probably know that I love to interpret things from a sociocultural perspective—so let's do that.

Now, this is an obvious reference to Mary and how she rejected him in the end for Barry Linton to keep her family satisfied. It might also allude to Eliza or other female love interests that Arthur might've had at some point.

But it may also be a nod to the culture of 19th century America and what it entailed for men.

Arthur isn't married at 36 years old. Men were expected to be married generally by their twenties. He has no children or legacy—the only one he did have died years ago. He doesn't have property or a home—he's always on the move with the gang (given how defensive he got with that woman he picks up to go to Lagras, it's probably a point of insecurity). He has no respectable profession—he should've had an honest career by now.

He hopes that Dutch will get his shit together and have them put their outlaw ways behind them, but Dutch literally cannot, and Arthur is the one feeling the burn for it. He has missed so many milestones that he “should've” reached by this point, yet he is still doing the same thing he was doing since he was a young teen.

He can't bring himself to leave Dutch either, as he feels like he has a debt to pay to the man (“I gotta try! I owe him that, at least.”) that can never be paid.

And that has to fucking hurt. You already hate yourself on the outside by thinking you're hideous. You hate yourself on the inside because you think you're dumb. You feel unaccomplished, like a damn loser. And on top of all of that? You can't bring yourself to let go of all the factors that make you feel that way because “they're family” and “they need you.”

You're trapped, and everything feels awful. I'd be depressed too.

It might also be another reason why Arthur is jealous and angry at John. He has a wife, he has a child, he doesn't feel particularly obligated to the gang (hence leaving for a year), he has a chance to do better, and he just doesn't care. He's reached so many milestones that Arthur misses not because he wants them, but out of pure luck, and I'm sure Arthur feels bitter about it.

It's just sad, man.

[mayajadewrites]

Levi Ackerman x Reader: Almost

Chapter Six: Coffee Ice Cream

Chapter Summary: We start off in Levi's POV, getting more insight on him and what he's thinking. He invites you over for TV and some ice cream. Nothing more. *tehe*

Fanfic Preface: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x Reader fanfic I’ve been dying to write! Levi is my latest hyper fixation so this was bound to happen. There will be other AOT characters in the mix, but remember this is a modern AU!

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD

ao3 link

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ LEVI ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

It's been a few days since our little incident. I didn't want to come off as obsessive, which I may or may not be, but I knew if I wanted this to last and bloom I needed to give her space to continue to be her own person.

"Mr. Ackerman, I've meal prepped for you for the next week and there's a load of laundry going." My housekeeper, Daisy, says as she fixes her apron. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"No, thanks Daisy." I nod for her to dismiss as I walk through my mansion.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I have a housekeeper. No one cleans like I do. I guess I keep her around for the cooking since I'm shit at that. Cleaning has always relieved my stress and makes me forget where I am in the world.

I didn't start off as a millionaire, almost billionaire. I started at the very bottom, with my mother.

We used to live in homeless shelters and sometimes strangers couches, until she fell ill because of our living circumstances. I watched my mother wither away in front of me, like a rose.

"Levi, promise me you will be something." I remember she said to me as she was taking her last few breaths. "Mommy will always watch over you."

Then she was gone.

Social services picked me up after that and I went to live with my aunt and uncle. They lived comfortably in middle class with no kids - lucky me.

I'd like to think mom would be happy with how far I've come.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

"Levi, your new assistant starts today. Don't run her off, please." Hange gives a pleading look. "She's nice."

"Nice and competent are two separate things." I continue to jot down notes from a contract I'm reading.

"Levi, this is Juliet. Your assistant." Hange walked into my office with, who I'm assuming is Juliet. She's young, with long blonde hair and brown eyes. Conventionally attractive.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Ackerman. What do you need me to do first? Do you want me to get you coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee. I drink tea. And I get that myself." I look up from my desk. "Hange, have her go over my schedule for meetings next week and make sure everything is in order."

"Sure thing boss." Hange left with Juliet, closing my door gently behind them. I have a therapy appointment today, thankfully it's virtual. I open my laptop and sign into the portal to initiate the meeting.

"Levi! You look good!" My therapist, Maria, smiles.

"Thank you. The camera probably smooths out my skin."

"So, tell me about your week. What are you feeling, what's going on, all that jazz."

"I punched a guy in the face last week."

"Levi! What did we talk about with your anger?"

"I did think it over. I thought before I punched, and after. I don't regret it."

Maria shook her head, bringing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Ay dios mio, you make my job so hard sometimes."

"That's why you get paid the big bucks, right?" I let out a rare chuckle.

"Why did you do that?"

Because he was touching whats mine.

"I thought he was going to take advantage of someone."

"Who's this someone?"

"I don't want to tell you about her yet. Then that means its serious."

"You punched a man because of her, that's not serious enough?"

"No. It's not. I'm 30 years old, Maria. I've never had a real relationship so I'm navigating it the only way I know how."

"Levi, she is not your mother. You can't treat her like she is a fragile human being. She has feelings, like you, and she is her own person. Does she want to be serious?"

"I'm not sure. We're ... dating? I guess that's different from being in a relationship."

"Ah, taking things slow. I see. Well, tell me about her."

"She works at my favorite coffee shop that I go to every day before work. Except I get tea. Anyways, I've seen her almost every day for 6 months and I've had long and short conversations with her. Only recently have we started seeing each other."

"And what are you scared of?" Maria's question stumped me.

I'm scared of everything.

I'm scared of losing her. I'm scared of losing what I have. I'm scared of starting a family only to have it ripped from me.

"Levi?" Maria snapped me out of my thoughts.

"I'm scared of, a lot. My feelings scare me. I feel, protective over her. I feel like I want to savor every moment we're together. I'm also scared she's going to run off once she truly sees my life."

I'm rich, like, filthy rich. She works hard for her money, lives alone, and has dreams of opening her own coffee shop. Which I can help with.

She's used to doing everything for herself. She doesn't have a housekeeper, a chef, none of that. She cooks, cleans, and does everything herself.

Everything I want in a woman is in her.

"You can't go around anticipating people leaving." Maria tapped her pen on her notebook. "You know what I say, everything happens for a reason. There's a reason you connected with her and there's a reason you feel the way you do about her. I don't think it would hurt to explore those feelings more."

After your therapy session, I decide I'm inviting her over for the first time. I want her to see how I am, in my house, and I want to observe how she is.

Me: Are you busy tonight?

Her: If by busy you mean I have a date with a pint of coffee ice cream and Grey's Anatomy, then yes.

Me: Would you like to do that here?

Her: Here is where?

She's gonna make me work for this.

Me: Here as in my house. I'll pick you up at 7.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ BRATTY BARISTA ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

After getting ready for Levi's, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your outfit consists of leggings, crew socks, sneakers, a low cut tank top and a zip up hoodie. You can't lie, part of you wants Levi to continue what he started at your place last week. The other part of you is scared shitless to go to his mansion.

At 7 PM sharp, you hear tires roll in front of your place. By the time you lock your doors, Levi is waiting outside the passenger door for you. He kisses your cheek before letting you in the car, scanning your body.

You study the drive from your place to his - about 20 minutes. Levi lives in a rich, residential area with plenty of land to spare.

Walking into his home, it's spotless. Like, actually spotless. No dust anywhere, nothing is out of place, even the remotes on his coffee table.

"I bought some coffee ice cream and I have Netflix set up for that show already - Grey's what?"

"Grey's Anatomy. You're watching it with me?"

"I was serious when I asked you if you wanted to do that here. Can we start from the 1st episode?" Levi grabbed 2 spoons and the pint of ice cream.

"Sure." You walk over to the couch, which looks like a cloud, and sink your body into it. So this is what it's like to have money.

Levi pressed play, opening the pint. He plunged his spoon into the ice cream as neatly as he could, bringing it to your lips.

You open your mouth slowly, letting him insert the spoon into your mouth. You stare at his eyes as you lick the spoon, getting lost in the clouds that live in his eyes. He pulled the spoon out of your mouth, taking a scoop for himself.

Levi had coffee ice cream residue on his bottom lip, which he quickly licked away. You stared at his chiseled jawline as he watched the show, his eyes moving back and forth with the scenes.

Eventually Levi put the ice cream away, knowing we would eat it again later. As he sat down next to you again, you couldn't help but notice a bulge in his pants.

We meet again.

Levi put his arm around the back of the couch, leaning back so his chest was stretched out. You could see his collarbone peeking out of his shirt, along with his sculpted muscles.

"You're not even watching, brat." Levi interrupted your daydream.

"I'm watching something else." You turn your body toward him. "It's much more interesting."

"What do you mean? I think it's ok so far -" Levi directs his attention back on the tv, getting lost in the plot.

You took advantage of this moment and unzipped your hoodie a bit, exposing your cleavage. He didn't seem to notice, but he will soon.

You slide into him, making sure he can feel your body against his. He looks down at you through his jet black locks, seemingly by surprise.

"What-"

"Shhhh." You press your finger to his lips, pulling your leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "You can't talk until I'm done. I mean it. Not a word." When did you suddenly get bold?

Levi's erection was more prominent now, pulsing against your thigh. You trail kisses down his face, neck, chest, and eventually you snake down to your knees, in front of his belt buckle.

You look up at Levi, who's mouth is open like he wants to say something.

"Remember the rules, Mr. Ackerman." You wiggle your finger, unbuckling his belt. "Not a word until I'm done."

His belt slid off with ease, as you pulled his slacks down to his ankles. His dick print through his boxer briefs startled you, but you're not gonna stop now. You spread his legs, pushing yourself in between them.

You drag your fingertips down his stomach to his pelvic region, tracing the 'V' line gently. You glanced to look at Levi, who's eyes were dead set on you.

His underwear came off, and his dick slapped his abs. Your eyes grew wide from his size, knowing you might have bit off more than you can chew.

You take one hand and start pumping his dick slowly, brushing your thumb over the tip. Pre-cum leaked from the slit, motivating you to pump harder.

You take some of the pre-cum from your finger and slid it into your mouth with a 'pop' sound. Levi groans, letting his head fall back.

You bring your lips to his tip, sucking it gently while pumping his shaft. You could not take all of him in yet, but you will. Your other hand starts massaging his balls, which hitched his breath. Your tongue caressed every vein in his dick, paying special attention to the tip.

Levi finally put one of his hands in your hair, directing you on his dick. You took more and more of him in, eventually hitting your gang reflex, but you didn't care. The look on Levi's face is worth it. He whimpers as your tongue cascades along his length, the sounds alone causing him to almost overstimulate.

Levi moaned your name before you felt his dick start pulsating in your mouth and his hand pulled your hair roughly. "Where do you want me to cum?" Levi said with short breaths.

"In my mouth."

It was less of a mess that way.

That must have sent Levi over the edge. He unleashed his load in your mouth, holding your hair tightly.

You snake your body up to his face and smile, swallowing his load.

"Fuck." Levi caught his breath, kissing your lips gently. "My turn." Levi pulled you onto the couch, laying you down horizontally. "But you can be as loud as you want."

Levi slid your leggings off, revealing your hot pink thong. He played with the straps before sliding them down your legs, kissing your thighs as he passed by.

Your core was drenched at this point from sucking his dick alone, and seeing him at your pussy sent you to another planet.

He slid two fingers in without warning, pulled them out, and sucked them while keeping his eyes on yours. "What a good girl. So wet for me." Levi started pumping his fingers, curling at your clit.

"Levi.." You moan his name, curling your toes. Levi presses his hand on your stomach, sitting his face in-between your thighs. His lips touched your pussy, sending electricity up and down your body.

The entire time, his eyes are on you. Watching every face you make, listening to every moan. Levi ate pussy like it was his last meal. His tongue and fingers invaded you and made it their home instead. Your walls started to pulsate as his tongue went in and out of you, devouring every last drop.

"So beautiful." Levi mumbled against you, curling his fingers one last time before the world went away around you. The feeling is euphoric. A man hasn't made you feel like this, ever. You've pleasured yourself enough to give yourself an orgasm, but this is different.

"Levi." You moan loudly, gripping his hair, riding out your high. You could not focus on one thing - there were no thoughts in your head. Levi ate you through your high until your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

Making his way to your lips, Levi kissed you gently, the sheen of your arousal all over his mouth.

"I wish I could savor this taste forever." He groaned, putting his hand behind your neck and pressing you into him gently.

His lips moved with purpose, making sure every inch is taken care of. Your lips are plump from all the arousal, your heart feels like its beating out of your chest.

"Do you still want to watch Grey's Anatomy?"

[burnandblind]

Freak with a Capital F

So like I said: I'm a shut-in. An introvert. A hermit.

A misanthrope, if you will. I know there's not actual causality but understandably, the correlation is high.

Just as it is high between intelligence and neurodivergence.

And neurodivergence and queerness.

Of course, being "conventionally attractive" makes the whole ordeal of existing that much more...complicated.

You can be a pretty one, or a strong one, or a smart one...but if you try to be all three? Or happen to be endowed with them and improve upon?

Well. I've found it's pretty rare to have High Stats all across the board.

But unfortunately, being mentally ill, weird af, and also chronically financially unstable?

Ha. Forget friends. At least for me.

Then there's the Paranormal Experiences. And the special interest in enlightenment, human potential, psychology, sociology, etc .. Interests in everything. Good at basically anything.

Except interpersonal relationships. Except.. being normal.

I've always been searching for someone I could relate to.

But that was never the problem. It wasn't that I didn't relate to other people.

I've seen myself in others and vice versa since I was very young. I've always been very understanding and compassionate.

Yielding.

But now?

Now, I wonder about this guy who used to work at a GNC.

He was a very attractive white man. At the time I would've been in my mid-twenties. I'd say he was around the same age, too.

Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, gorgeous physique.

He ended up killing himself.

I think about him periodically. Along with everyone else I've ever known. Their lives, their struggles. Their bonds and their flaws. Their good and bad traits.

I see no real difference between us. I don't. Not really.

But this... intersectional existence I have? This... perception of reality?

Well. Maybe I give off a different Electromagnetic Field than others.

It's definitely possible, considering what I've done my whole life.

Focus on the impossible.

I want to find my people. My soulmates.

They look and act a certain way. I think they'd hold the same values, at least. Have some of the same experience, some of the same understandings.

I want to be attracted to someone 100%. Physically, mentally, and spiritually.

I've met/seen men, women, and nonbinary folx (or others) who I thought/felt.. I fell in love with how they looked at first sight.

I've had the privilege of experiencing that a half dozen times so far. Mostly women. Because I'm 90% attracted to women. More intensely than men or any others. Even more so if they're ciswomen. Even more so if they're mixed. Even more so if they're... compatible.

But I have not found a woman who I am physically attracted to who I am also compatible with.

I've only been with a handful. My brain is... odd. About who I find attractive and who I don't.

There's plenty of people who are definitely attractive that I don't want to kiss.

Even more so people who are attractive or cool or whatever... but they're not my people, you know?

Oh well.

I like being me. I don't like dealing with capitalism. Or people being fucked up about me being trans. Or being held to stupid standards.

I'm masculine enough. I'm feminine enough. I'm smart enough and I love to learn and grow. I always focus on getting better.

And all I can think is: When I finally get my shit completely together.. is that when I will find them?

But how could I trust anyone or anything by then? If all people seem to care about more is my financial stability and normacly?

I'm... kinda tired. Of just being cordial and diplomatic with people. People are what they are. Everyone is... relatively good. Just like I am.

But I'd rather be alone. Reading and exercising and focusing on enlightenment than interacting with anyone.

[noco7]

any thoughts on cody and beth’s relationship? they did have the moment before cody’s elimination in island which ive always thought was interesting

I have soooo many thoughts about Cody & Beth, you have NO idea bestie.

So the incident you're talking about is how after Cody was wheeled to the dock of shame after being mauled by a bear, Beth kissed him on the cheek, right?

[Sidenote: Cody has been kissed by three people in canon, and none of them have been consensual. Poor guy.]

But back to Cody&Beth. She kissed him on the cheek, which usually indicates romantic interest. Yet they never interact again. Ever. Cody's not there for Action, and Beth isn't in WT. So this interaction goes nowhere.

And that's confusing to me, because it feels like such a Total-Drama ass ship. "Guy who liked the popular hot girl realizes that the homely girl next to him was the right fit." But if you're not convinced yet, allow me to walk you through it:

.Imagine, Cody's in Action. He can't go for Gwen because she's dating Trent, and despite what he said he's kinda glum about it. It's one thing to get them together, it's another to have to see them constantly.

Imagine Beth, who likes Cody, deciding this could be her chance.

And it works, because Cody is so-so-easy, and one girlfriend is better than no girlfriend. And this idea really appeals to me, because Cody's never had a chance to have a real relationship. He's idealized having a GF for years I bet, but how would he adjust to the reality? Especially when it's not the conventionally attractive girl he most likely dreamed of?

It probably isn't as cool. He and Beth get along fine, probably. They probably brag about each other. Not in a “yay I’m dating X,” but “Wow, I have a boyfriend, now!” and "I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!!" It’s more about the status change than anything else. Cody probably opens every single door for her, and acts like he did smth. Beth is thrilled.

But maybe they start annoying each other. Cody can only keep up the gentlemanly person for so long, and Beth is not the most tactful person either. They don't hate each other, but it's clear the honeymoon period is over.

And Gwent is going on in the background, getting rockier and rockier, and Cody's probably like "if Gwen goes single, might have to make a few decisions." Because Gwen's still his dream girl, remember? I doubt he magically got over her.

And Beth overhears this or smth, and like a lot of young girls, she thinks it's because she's "not pretty enough." Cue angst, cue "glow up." It's a movie season, so why not parody the nerd girl makeover trope. And so Beth is dazzlingly beautiful, and Cody, inconsiderate Cody, probably asks why she can't look like this every day.

This can lead to two routes: Beth dumps him, and Cody has to learn from his mistakes. Which would be super cool.

Or Beth could get her makeover ruined via whatever challenge they're doing, break down, and say she's worried Cody won't like her anymore. And Cody's like "..." Pretty ashamed. And then Beth reveals that the makeover took hours or smth, and Cody's like "shit? i didn't know that? damn." and so he realizes how much effort she puts in, and that he's in the Wrong. That she's trying so hard to compensate for his own shallowness, and he needs to be a better person. Because it's his fault this happened. Very angsty, but leads to good moments with them both, where Beth gets to communicate and Cody gets to reflect. Maybe he even admits that he's not the hottest guy either, and he's insecure about that. Could be interesting. I really like hurt/comfort moments that challenge the "Comfort-er" to change their own perspective. And Cody has a lot of perspectives that need to be changed, imo.

But after that, uhhh…. I have no idea?  Maybe they start geeking out together, and hopefully, just start getting more comfortable together as people. That'd be nice. But I don't particularly care either way.

When it comes to ships that aren't noco, I'm the writer who has like, "one good scene," and then the rest is hazy, lol. 

Anywayyyy, I think Beth/Cody could have had a decent arc, and really portray the "teen romances aren't that cool," element perfectly. It would also make Beth a more sympathetic character because Cody is so ugh that he'd make any girl look better by his side.

I don't know why TD didn't go with it, tbh. Maybe Beth's kiss was just a joke to further illustrate her "Boney-Island-Curse" she ends up accidentally pushing Cody off the dock. Maybe they just didn't think Cody in a relationship would be interesting, which is fair. Maybe they had more important things to tackle. Maybe it was pretty privilege - I've tracked TD canon couples, and every girl on there is conventionally attractive, whether their man is or not. You could counter Harold/Leshawna, but that ship didn't really go anywhere. And even if it counts, it's still kinda SUS. But it also could be because there are very few TD girls that *aren't* conventionally attractive. So maybe that's why. Or maybe it's every reason all at once, or maybe it's something I haven't thought of. Maybe they didn't think of it at all. And that's fair. I don't think the writers can or should account for every errant relationship idea. So tl;dr: Beth/Cody could have been a really awkward teen relationship that people found relatable. It didn't happen, and that's okay. But it's still interesting.

[bytchysylvy]

BODY THOUGHTS ESSAY PART 2/3

SF SUPPORTING CAST

mokubat knows his leanness makes latikam upset. reminds him of the occupation. but its whatever. Appreciates the fact that he is apparently Incredibly Sexy by mortal standards and uses this to his advantage to be as much as a slut as possible with them.

zumi puts on a brave face to hide that she is deeply insecure about the way she looks. She'd give everything to just look vazuvyn. Having a more feminine body shape would help too but its by far not her biggest problem.

susarikas's biggest problem is just moving around. his body was never meant to... be like this. Unknown to everyone he will grow into it and live an adulthood without inhibition but right now its awkward to deal with. He doesn't let it get to him as he has no fellow young vazuvyr to compare himself with (though this itself does make him rather lonely).

dusk is reasonably mixed. ellyon dominated media that makes the ideal body one that she could literally never physically obtain vs living in a strong gwenduraag community where her body is normal and average. She has reasonable insecurities but nothing noteworthy. However, she is oblivious to how pretty she is with her hair down.

liz loves her body. It took a lot to get her body the way it is. her only issue is she wishes she had casarin's huge caboose, then she'd be perfect lmao.

You may not like it but kayanit is what peak female performance looks like (big snake)

levis, a naturally thin conventionally attractive jewel ellyon, has never once had to think about how his appearance would be received. He is taking aging with grace btw, thanks for checking in, we were all so concerned.

im going back and forth with something about nerus so put a tiny redacted about something here. That aside, i have a whole other essay about him and hydrel's insecurities with being half faeren. Might post later idk. Know he worries about his looks but its not in his size or shape.

galan, like everyone* else in their family, has no reason to be insecure because they're all thin and conventionally attractive. admittedly though, he is somewhat insecure that he has zero physical strength. Man couldn't protect a woman from a salmon. But it doesn't get to him that much because he hides behind his intelligence anyway. I have a business degree I dont need to lift heavy things such as a bag of flour.

vaens didn't have any issues until his thyroid failed on him and he got fat. deeply insecure about the changes, worst of all despite knowing its just medical condition he contextualizes it as a moral failing; that its a punishment from god. it is some solace to him that his wife loves him all the same. disclaimer that this is not why he is an horrible person, just another symptom of the bigger issue of his religiosity.

morgan is both conceited in her appearance and insecure. Looks at everyone else and thinks "at least I dont look like that". Fully believes that thinness is a holy thing and deviation is the result of one's own moral failing. We don't see behind the scenes but while she admires vaens's power she also judges him harshly for his body, though she keeps that thought to herself.

adaen was a soft squishy nerd. Always tried to look tougher and meaner to compensate but failed miserably and ended up just looking softer and dorkier in the end. Wasn't strong like his brother but he was the funny one.

fjinmars was also on the soft side but in a way that was still a very idealized feminine look. She never had to deal with anyone giving her shit about her appearance. And the media cant get to her because she knows things that society does not.

no notes about kentras as i havent designed him yet

anrai was heavy set, being a wrestler before being deployed his size and shape was praised albeit not for his looks. After coming home from his first service he went from having a wrestlers physique to being plain fat. It was fine. It was truer to who he was anyways; a soft hearted guy who just wants to live a peaceful life and cuddle with a cute wife.

naljuun was never insecure of her appearance but of being a tiny helpless girl. Runt of the family and having grown up having to do manual labor which never seemed to be good enough. Doesnt like to think about it. Just glad that casarin took after his dad and not her.

[flames-tstuff]

I had the most delightful, fanfic-esque scenario play out before me today.

Unnecessarily long (but wholesome) story time below the cut!

I want to tell you all about this relatively new friend of mine (we've been friends for maybe 4-6 months now), whom I love dearly /p. The story is sort of in two parts; the background context, and then the actual story that happened today.

Background/Context

This kid appears to look like your stereotypical "fuckboy", right? Smooth, calm, collected demeanor. Well-dressed. A bit androgynous. Long, well-maintained hair. A pretty boy. I originally think to myself, “Huh, he’s kinda pretty(?) Uh oh. That can’t be good." Basically, I assume this dude is a douche-bag, because, well, your brain learns to recognize patterns, right? I've learned that conventionally attractive people typically only interact with me if they want something (cynical, I know).

Fast forward a few months and I find that I actually enjoy talking to him, and that he enjoys talking to me. Me—someone who mostly presents feminine (when I assumed him to be somewhat misogynistic) and is awkward as hell. He looks at me and speaks to me like I’m a real person..? Like he’s not just tolerating my presence and actually enjoys interacting with me. Like I'm "one of the guys", an equal. Pretty much any cishet guy I’ve ever met looks and talks to me like I’m an inconvenien. So the fact that he wasn't acting that way should have been the first sign that he's not at all what I had assumed.

A few months in when he feels comfortable enough, he tells me he’s been transitioning MTF(*) in secret for some time now. And it makes perfect sense. That’s why he had a pretty, feminine face. That’s why he had his hair grown out long. When I told him that no cishet guy has EVER been that kind to me, he said it was probably the estrogen lol.

*(Everyone who ~knows~ calls him by his given name and pronouns, just to be safe. We go to a religion-based school in a state that isn't very progressive or safe. I’ve only ever heard his girlfriend, who I also love and adore, use she/her in private, and even then it’s rare. So until I’m given explicit permission to openly use feminine pronouns, we’re all playing it safe by sticking with he/him.)

I’ve always been a mom friend, but I'm telling you this person is bringing out the “they must be protected at all costs” in me. The person who I thought was this smooth, sauve, chill dude (think Buck Dewey from Steven Universe lol) is actually just a scared, insecure little girl behind the curtains. A young adult who, because of the hormones, is basically going through Second Puberty™, angst and all. Someone who hid behind his guitar during a jam session because he was afraid someone would notice his developing chest. The friend who surprised me when I looked over and saw him crying during the animated film we were watching in the theater.

Guys, this is like my own real-life Zuko or Nico friend. The character in fiction that you just wanna shower with comfort and reassurance and warmth (but you can't, so you do so through writing and art). The friend you see almost as a younger sibling, that you feel compelled to protect. The one that you wanna hug and tell them that everything will be alright. This is all in my head of course, I don't want to risk accidentally smothering, patronizing, or otherwise scaring him away. But I feel honored any time I get the chance to see his walls come down even a little.

So because he’s got this particular demeanor about him, I was thinking to myself how much I want to see what would happen if someone were to... break down those walls a bit (yeah, you know what I'm talking about lol). Like really truly see past the facade he puts up every day. Because the thing is, I’ve seen him express and react just like everyone else. Happy, sad, angry—I’ve even seen him get playful before, but it’s always at about the same even level of reaction. I want to see him finally "crack", you know? What I would give to see him lose his cool and drop all pretenses, to see him be lovingly destroyed.

And oh how this sets up like the premise of a fanfic, am I right?

Unfortunately we’re not yet close enough to have crossed the barrier of physical contact (he doesn’t seem like the touchy type anyway), so it definitely would have to be coming from his girlfriend. Even if it did happen, the chances of me getting to witness it are low. I assume his girlfriend probably respects him enough not to embarrass him too much in front of others. Still, one can dream 😆

I wait for the day when the subject of being ticklish comes up (bc there ain't NO way this ball of hidden angst isn’t ticklish), someone teases him about it, and chaos ensues.

Today.

(aka the actual story, the reason for making this post)

Spoiler alert: No tickly shenanigans take place, unfortunately, but it's just about as good in my book :)

There were five of us friends (since when did I get a group of friends to hang out with??) piled into his car. I can’t remember exactly what happened, I think his girlfriend changed something about the radio, and lo and behold IT HAPPENED. He cracked!... even if just a tiny bit, hehe. It wasn’t an angry outburst in like a concerning, toxic way, but he was like “Ah, c’mon why’d you do that??” more akin to a whiny twelve-year-old who's parents unplugged their TV to get them to go to bed. It was funny and endearing more than anything, like watching an old married couple fight. We all snickered a bit at the sight, and I saw my opportunity to tease him a little.

I said something along the lines of “you know, for someone who has such a calm and collected demeanor, I absolutely love when I get to see you lose your cool. I mean that in the nicest way possible, of course. It’s just the best". He said that he didn’t think he gave off that kind of vibe, but he appreciated that that's how I see him 😆

Then, a few minutes later we were in the drive-through line getting sodas at McD’s. One of the friends in the car with us says idk, maybe two words, and he LOSES it (you know how inside jokes with friends are). Like, full-on busts up, flops against the wheel wheezing, which eventually turns into loud genuine laughter. Now I completely lose it, doubling over and burying my face in my lap laughing, but not because of the joke (cue the sappy music). The sudden, uncontrollable bout of laughter coming from him was so unexpected and so contagioius... It was one of the best sounds I’d heard in a long time! I was basically cry-laughing at that point. There were actual tears in my eyes that I had to wipe away. It all sounds so cliché but it really was an incredible sight to behold, and, in a roundabout sort of way, my dream came true.

So yeah. I just wanna hug him and fawn over him like a mom or an auntie. Poke him, help him loosen up a little. We’re not quite at that level of friendship where that would be well received I think, but maybe someday. Yeah, someday.

[ankhisms]

oh actually now that ive posted the edit of those scenes heres my final thoughts on that drama in general

my general distaste with the shows plot and its mindset still remains the same, halfway through editing the scenes together i started to go "well maybe im being a little too harsh, the protagonist is a sweet character who i like and im rooting for, maybe the show is going to address the issues i have" but nope! almost immediately after thinking that the show was like dont forget if you dont wear makeup and dont try to be conventionally attractive you will be ALONE FOREVER and there was a scene at the ending where its a year later and the main character encounters a girl whos wearing the same kind of outfit she was wearing in the beginning of the show with the same haircut and she goes "you can change if you want to (:" and im gonna be honest with you if i bumped into someone in an airport or a subway station and they looked at me and went "oh you poor thing :( dont worry if you want to try and be less ugly you can! you can change and be pretty" i would rip their face off. in fact i have had similar things happen to me but thats besides the point anyway thats just an example of my biggest issue with the show and its plot/mindset, aside from the obvious obnoxious heterosexual drama weirdness

but anyway onto what we all really care about. i said this before when i first tried to actually watch this show (for the record i basically spedran watching the episodes for my edit i had it on fast speed to get to where fuwaris scenes where and then clipped them so i did see all of it but really fast) it would have been a MUCH better much more actually interesting show if fuwari was the main character. even just as a side character shes far more of an interesting character than the rest of the main characters its like yeah yeah whatever love triangle can you guys move over i want to see what fuwari is up to. it couldve been a much better show if it was centered around her and about her encouraging her niece to come out of her shell and enjoy her life. also i do not want to be mean when i say this because you all know im an actor i try to not be too harsh when it comes to younger or less experienced actors performances in things im watching, but well. i liked the protagonist and her performance she was fun. but really ryon is acting circles around everyone else in the cast which makes sense but everyone else is so stiff and not as convincing as he is which again. fuwari really is the best part of this show i can not emphasize that enough. thats why i made this edit. the show is not worth watching i promise you

also as a disclaimer i know im not the target audience of this show, its target audience is high school girls but i would have been its target audience in the past and honestly it makes me sad to think of a young girl who like myself in highschool would have been described as "an ugly poison mushroom" watching the show and thinking that she has to completely change everything about herself in order to be loved or liked in any way. it just breaks my heart yknow. like the protagonist is fine in the beginning!!! she looks perfectly fine!!! she does not have to change anything about herself she is already worthy of love! ok enough ranting

anyway tldr dont watch that show its not good. ryons performance was predictably very good because hes an excellent actor. hope you all appreciate all my fighting in the trenches to create this gift unto you all i am wildly bisexual

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

--

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

-

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

-

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

-

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

-

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

--

masterpost

[renaerys]

22. for reds 🤡

This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.

xxx

Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?

For example, dating.

“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.

“Tell you what?”

She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”

Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”

She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”

He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.

But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.

Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.

He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.

The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.

He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.

Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.

Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”

Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”

He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.

Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.

The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.

“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”

Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.

“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.

Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”

Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”

Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.

Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.

But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.

Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.

xxx

That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.

He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.

“Can I borrow your class notes?”

Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.

“Which class?”

“All of them.”

He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”

She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”

A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.

“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”

They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”

Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”

A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.

Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”

“Working on it.”

The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.

“You want to be my friend.”

“We have so much in common.”

“So do lions and hyenas.”

“Both are apex predators, so.”

She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.

Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”

Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”

“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”

The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.

“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.

Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”

She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”

Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.

The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.

“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.

“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.

“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”

Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.

[deniigi]

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

--

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

 MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

 How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

--

 @blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

--

 It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

--

 People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

--

 It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

--

 GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

 Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

 MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

 Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

--

 It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

 MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

 HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

--

 It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

 GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

 Silence.

 MM: oh no

 Yeah. Fuck.

 MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

 Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

 MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

 There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

 GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

--

 It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

 GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

--

 DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

 MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

 Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

 MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

 That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

 MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

 Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

--

 Two hours. One text.

 MM: >:/

 Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

 GL: good news?

MM: [image]

 He opened it.

 SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

 What.

 MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

 Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

 GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

 No way. Siblings were wild.

 GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

  SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

 The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

 MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

 Miles took a long time to respond.

 MM: yeah

 Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

 GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

 Oh, nice. That was a relief.

 MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

 Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

 GL: sure

 --

  [GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

 It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

 There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

 SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

 Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

 MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

 Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

 SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.  

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

 Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

 GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

 That—

Sounded kind of nice?

 GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl                                    

 That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

 GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

 Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

[sombruhmoment]

the correct ‘hottest character’ tier list

not actually please dont yell at me

E: Unavailable for ranking

Hammond + Winston; Animals

Bastion + Orisa + Echo; Naive, ‘childlike’ robots that just are not attractive.

D: Hot only to very specific people

Widow; My issue with Widow is she’s basic. I’ve seen this dozens of times. Her hotness is artificial - everything about her to shove in your face her hotness, and unless you’re a very meek lesbian or a weird creepy dude, she just isn’t that hot. She’s a gimmick. If she was more professional and less for show, she’d be higher.

Tracer; Yorkshire terrier. She’d be a great s/o and friend, but she’s not exactly hot. She’s plain jane. Only especially hot to very Jane Austen lesbians and again, weird creepy dudes. 

Mercy; Boring. She doesn’t really have much personality in the media she shows up in beyond ‘angel’ and ‘tired’. The latter is the smallest portion of her character, but the most embraced. This is why she’s only hot in the fan portrayals of her in fic or art. She’s too plain and basic to be more than conventionally attractive.

Junkrat; He just ain’t, dude. Unless he’s your type, he isn’t hot. His personality doesn’t lend to his sex appeal, either. Very specific taste needed.

Mei; Only if you’re a butch lesbian or an even weirder dude. Very plain, but the body shape rep is nice. Her personality is probably only attractive if you’re into the same interests as her, or are familiar with your interests being shut down. This relationship will be a lot of gushing about fun science facts and god dang, you go you funky butch lesbians. Still not hot. 

C: Boring + bad idea

Brig; She has a hotness factor from the muscles. She still is not hot because she is so plain. She is white bread incarnate. Her personality of sweet, ‘girl-next-door’ is appealing for a relationship, but she just isn’t that hot aside from her buffness. 

Sigma; He’s often cited as one of the hotter guys, but is he, or do you just like the idea of cosmic horror? Is he hot, or do you want to be a monsterf*cker without actually commiting? He’s a traumatized Grandpa. He’s like an old, white man Mei. I’d go to the park with him and feed ducks. I would not canoodle.

Ashe; Like Widow, but more professional. She’s still boring, but at least the outfit makes her have some intrigue. Her story has the potential to make her more interesting, but let’s be real, she was only made as an attempt to stop the McHanzo shippers. 

D.va; She’s fine. She’s just a young adult. Nothing much to say. Blizzard really wants you to think she’s hot, though.

Hanzo; Look. This man, no matter when you approach him, is in a crisis. Before meeting Genji, he’s stuck in the past. After, he’s gone full white girl reinvention. I wouldn’t be surprised if your hookup was a rebound. If you canoodle him, there will be strings attached. He will call you afterwards and ask if you happened to find one of his nipple piercings in your sheets. You’ll get text messages asking if you want to smoke a joint. He has no skill in this. Until he goes to therapy, wide berth. He’s hot, but the consequences and implications outweigh the good time. 

B: A lil spice to ‘em

Torb; The personality is there. He’s a dilf. He’s a serious, but not without humor, haunted man who loves his family dearly. He gets made into a joke, but guys, this man would be a fan favorite if he wasn’t short. 

Ana; She’s adopted the Grannie personality, which knocks her down a bit, but Ana is hot even as an older woman. Not my cup ‘a joe, but she oozes sarcasm and confidence. Also, strikes fear into the rich and corrupt? Hot. 

Genji; He’s Hanzo, but after therapy. He’s got his ish together. He’ll treat you right. It’ll be the best relationship you’ve ever had because he’s so good at communication. But this isn’t about relationships. He’s hot because he’s vanilla. He’s a simple guy - and lets face it, a bottom. One of the plainer options, but still has some appeal to him with his maturity.

Zarya; Buff woman. Hot. Her personality isn’t for everyone, and her racism is...ugh...but c’mon. Look at her biceps. Look at them.

Moira; Will experiment on you in more ways than you expect. Androgynous, David Bowie. Not for the faint of heart. You’re definitely a lesbian or a femboy. Hot for her evilness. Not so hot for her nails. Not a good idea. Be careful.

Reinhardt; Big grandpa man. A gentle soul. Very loud. He’s hot for his confidence and voice. But, again, sooner feed ducks with him than anything else.

A: Hot

Sombra; Evil, intelligent, mischievous woman who is always one step ahead? Hot.

Doomfist; You are lying to yourself if you think he isn’t attractive. Jerk? No question. But listen to his voice. He’s classy, humorous, and very nicely muscled. Do not pursue a relationship under any circumstance, but look all you’d like. 

Zen; Like Genji, but hotter because of the inherent controversy of canoodling a monk. 

Soldier; Raspy voice, nice bone structure, haunted past, beefy but not too beefy. Kinda basic, but still appealing. 

Roadhog; Voice. Voice. Voice. This man is hot. You are a coward. Dad bod x 10. 

Lucio; Anarchist, fights corps, very kind and sweet. Lean muscle and fierce. Gentle and plays with kids. Cutie.

S: Hottest

Baptiste; Beefy, has some cake, romantic flirt, will take C A R E of you and make you breakfast. Look at him. Haunted past, muscles, nice voice, you KNOW he takes care of his nails and hygiene. Not just a good night, marry this man. Someone else will if you don’t. Hottest character in Overwatch.

McCree; Voice, dad bod, tanned, probably smells like smoke and sand. He’s a sweetie, but has some edge to him. A nice middle ground between Hot Evil and Hot Cute. Beard is definitely scratchy. 

Pharah; Buff woman with a nice voice, cute sense of humor, and sense of loyalty and responsibility? Like a female Baptiste. Go get the ring. Now. 

Reaper; Haunted past, claws, monster/inhuman, and that voice. Don’t pursue relationship. Casual meetups? Sure. Do not catch feelings, this isn’t a Wattpad story and you are not y/n, you will not change him.

Symmetra; She’s kinda confused but she has a good heart, good voice, and very nice legs. She’s dripping charisma and confidence, look at her. You are below her and that is quite an enjoyable experience. Would be a decent s/o, would have a lot to learn but she’d try her best. 

[wielderofmysteries]

Jace Beleren, Masculinity, and the Trans Experience

(This post is a Twitter thread I wrote in response to a Goblin Lore podcast episode called “Jace Beleren and Toxic Masculinity”.)

I feel I have a unique perspective on this topic as a trans man. Trans man Jace isn't my headcanon, but it's an interpretation I love. He's my favorite character of all time, and as a trans man, I feel like reading Jace's flaws as toxic masculinity isn't quite right.

There are several "pillars" of toxic masculinity that Jace doesn't have. He doesn't have the self-destructive emotional repression, worship of sex and violence, or desire to subjugate women and his peers that men who experience toxic masculinity have.

Even BEFORE Ixalan, Jace was an example of many positive masculine traits. He was curious and emotionally open. He wrongly believed he could make decisions for others, but he cared for people, wanted to protect them, and couldn't sit idly by when he knew people were in danger.

In Agents of Artifice, he financially provided for Kallist and Liliana, and in Magic Story invited the Gatewatch to live in his home. Jace wanted to heal Garruk, tried to stop his rampage and had a Hedron implanted in Garruk's shoulder to relieve the effects of the curse.

"I don't want to hurt you, Garruk."

"Lucky for me, I don't feel the same way."

"Garruk, this is not a fair fight. You've suffered enough. Please. Come with me."

[...]

Jace stood in thought. Garruk held him by the throat, could end his life in an eye blink, had already proven he was immune to Jace's illusions. Garruk laughed again. If Garruk was open to having friends, then Jace might have been a good one.

"You win," said Jace. "We will leave you alone. I will not seek you out. But please, if you change your mind, come find us on Ravnica. Something is still not right here. We can help you."

In "Revelation at the Eye" Jace tells Ugin that Zendikar isn't a puzzle to be solved, and that it didn't matter if killing the Eldrazi has consequences, there are real people on Zendikar fighting for their lives and he needs to help them.

"Zendikar isn't a puzzle to be solved," said Jace. "It's a place. It's somebody's home. And those people are out there, right now, fighting for their world and wondering if anybody's going to help them kill what's killing them."

He showed scenes of suffering, then—of families mourning the lost, of landscapes ravaged by Ulamog, of even the skies and seas teeming with the Eldrazi menace.

Ugin cocked his head. The hedron architecture of the chamber seemed to melt and flow, became a pattern of tessellating dragons mocking him from the walls.

"So certain," said Ugin, "and so young."

Ral Zarek tried to kill Jace and ruined his relationship with his close friend Emmara, but in "Project Lightning Bug", Jace forgives him. Jace is honest about his feelings with Ral even after Ral was openly rude to him.

"I don't remember home," Beleren said quietly, unbidden.

"What?"

"You talked about growing up in Ravnica. A lot of my memories from my childhood are gone. Chopped up in my head into a few impressions. Most of what I remember begins here, on Ravnica. I'll never have roots here the way you do, and I admit I'm off to other planes a lot. But I think of myself as Ravnican to the core, too."

In Kaladesh block he wanted Chandra to be able to confide in him, and didn't want to stay home when he heard she could be in trouble. He used his mind magic to help Nissa sleep when she had a sensory overload in the busy city.

Nissa looked up. Jace and Gideon were exchanging a look. Both glanced at her.

They stood as one.

Jace turned toward the coat room. "I'll head to Kaladesh. It should be easy for me to—"

Lavinia appeared in his path, one hand resting on the pommel her sword. "Again?" she said, in a weary, disappointed tone.

He frowned up at her. "You can't expect me to sit here and do paperwork!"

Across the streets, beyond the barricades, the Consulate's panharmonicons are still blaring "The Gremlin's Wedding March" at us on infinite repeat at double speed. They left them on all night, and after the moon set Nissa started crying, hands clamped over her ears.

[...]

Jace sat down with her. They talked a minute and his eyes flashed. She curled up in a big potted plant and didn't wake up until the sun fell on her.

But what does being a man mean to Jace Beleren? Well, take a look at his feelings towards Gideon. Jace saw Gideon as the male ideal. I think Jace admires (and is envious of) the way Gideon is a representation of positive masculinity.

Eyes widened, jaws set. They understood their task, he was certain of that. But were they actually prepared to perform it?

What would Gideon say?

Jace smiled. Of course.

"For Zendikar," he said, raising one fist in the air. It felt thin to him, lacking Gideon's armored fist, his baritone war cry, his iron conviction.

None of that mattered. The soldiers shouted as one voice, holding their weapons aloft.

"For Zendikar!"

Gideon is not violent or hypersexual. He's kind, not afraid to ask for help, a defender rather than an aggressor. The pillars of toxic masculinity are absent in both Jace and Gideon. So why does Gideon's mere presence make Jace insecure? I think that insecurity is dysphoria.

I'm only 5 feet tall. People treat me like a kid, think I need help, and certainly don't see me as a man because I'm very small. It feels bad knowing my looks don't inspire others or make them feel safe like big tall guys can.

Gideon is super tall, muscular, conventionally attractive. He's charismatic and a natural leader. Gideon's like a human lighthouse. Jace is average height, out-of-shape, often pale and sickly, and his telepathy makes people automatically distrust him.

It's easy to see why people follow Gideon's lead so easily rather than Jace's. As a trans man, I personally related to Jace's insecurity. He feels inadequate compared to Gideon.

"I'd rather stand," said Gideon.

Jace stood up. It was an error. He still had to crane his neck to look Gideon in the eye, and now the size difference between them was glaringly obvious. He hated feeling small. Hated it.

Jace wanting to lead the Gatewatch didn't come from a desire to dominate others and be an ~alpha male~, but from a desire for people to believe in him. What Jace really wants is to prove to himself and others that he's competent and that he can be trusted.

This vision appeared whenever the man was struggling at a task.

[...]

"Listen, you aren't really suited to this task. Let me handle it." The vision's voice was gruff but friendly.

It came off as condescending.

The man was annoyed.

"I can do it myself."

The hallucination sighed. "You and I both know you're not suited to this. Let me handle it, you go philosophize on the other end of the beach."

"I said I can do it myself." The man let his irritation reach his voice.

"No, you can't. I call the shots and execute, you stand to the side. That's how this works."

The man responded by throwing his hook at the hallucination. It went straight through the figure's eye and landed behind him on the sand.

The time he spends with Vraska is so good for him! I loved that [the podcasts hosts] talked about how he was finally happy to follow someone else's lead! He didn't need to be a leader, he needed someone to trust him. She respected and loved him and thought he was incredible for who he is.

Vraska looked him in the eye. "You're incredible. You know that, right?"

Jace returned her smile and felt his cheeks warming. "I do my best."

"Well, your best is incredible," Vraska said, turning toward the central tower and approaching a large gate on what appeared to be its back side.

Liliana never told Jace he was incredible.

Liliana would have scoffed. She would have made a dismissive joke, rolled her eyes, and called him a show-off. She would not bother to talk to him for days. She would consume the body of a demon with a crocodile's jaws and laugh over the sound of its flesh tearing off. She would do all sorts of things, but she would never call him incredible.

It was important for Jace to get that validation. Now he's not insecure about his appearance. It's not that he finally developed into someone who was caring. He was caring all along, but he was held back by insecurity about how others perceive him. He learned to love himself.

Despite all his good qualities and deeds he still felt insecure because it wasn't easy to visually see him as a "strong man". I think it's important to acknowledge positive masculinity even when the man in question isn't attractive or charismatic, and even if he makes mistakes.

As a trans person, Jace's experience reminded me of the struggle to "pass". It's frightening how easily insecurity can turn into toxic masculinity when you feel different from "real men". If you don't look the part, some people will just never acknowledge you.

Next to 'perfect' guys like Gideon, it's easy to see our own perceived weaknesses and shortcomings. Easy to feel resentment for it. But from this struggle comes the strive to be better men, to be confident in ourselves, and comfortable in our bodies.

There's SO much I wanted to talk about, like how Jace's trauma shaped his need for control, how the IRL gamer guys he was created to represent actually hate him, how he's a male victim of abuse by a female partner, etc but this thread is already terribly long.

TLDR; I think toxic masculinity as a reading of Jace is missing some perspective. The trans perspective. Not all insecurity men experience is toxic masculinity. Sorry I totally should have waited until part 2 was out, but I couldn't stop thinking about that episode.

There's a lack of trans men's voices in... basically everything, and this is something I think we should definitely be included in. I'm so grateful for the Vorthos community opening these kinds of discussions. Super excited for part 2 of the podcast!

[swtorpadawan]

Secret Messages

Author’s Note: The following story takes place sometime between chapters 13 and 16 of “Knights of the Fallen Empire”.

“That will be all everyone. Thank you.” Corellan Halcyon, the Alliance Commander concluded the meeting with the assembled command staff in the main conference room in the operations wing.

Vette gathered up her data pads. In less than two weeks, she’d made a place for herself here on Odessen. The skills she’d developed years ago as part of Kael’s old crew had netted her the position of communications specialist, which meant she had the chance to see the inner workings of the Alliance’s command structure first-hand. Indeed, Vette was one of only two aides present – the other being the Commander’s little AstroMech droid, Teeseven. Given that the Alliance was only a few months old, and that it was essentially a “motley” collection of defectors from the Republic, the Sith Empire, Zakuul and various other factions throughout the galaxy, she found it very impressive. The people here were motivated; despite their differences, everyone wanted to take down the Eternal Throne, and incredibly, everyone seemed to trust that the ‘infamous Outlander’, this former Jedi Master, would be the one to do it.

After seeing him in action on Vandin, Vette found that she was starting to believe it, too.

As people made their way towards the exit – led by Doctor Oggurobb (how the heck could any Hutt possibly move that fast?) – the Commander looked over at her.

“Oh, Vette. Do you have a minute?”      

Vette blinked, surprised that the Commander – Corellan, he’d asked to be called while in private – would call on her. She nodded over to him in acknowledgement, feeling a brief upswell of anxiety as she waited for the others to clear out. She knew perfectly well that the feeling was a legacy of having been enslaved twice in her life but knowing that didn’t ease her nerves.

Which was funny. The Commander was entirely different than anyone else she’d worked with. He was barely older than she was, but she looked up to him. Honestly, Corellan Halcyon was one of the nicest people she’d ever met. He never got angry or even raised his voice with anyone and whatever frustration he experienced only seemed to manifest as steely resolve. She’d have thought – having watched Kael in action years ago – that all this would have made for a weak leader.

It didn’t. If anything, it just made people not want to disappoint him.

So for a moment, Vette felt nervous that she’d somehow disappointed him.

Weird that I thought he’d be like Quinn. she mused to herself. The stick-up-his-ass Imperial officer had been the most repressed man Vette had ever met. More than once, she’d speculated aloud that Quinn could have made a good Jedi had he been a Force-sensitive born in the Republic. This had proven an excellent way to antagonize him, which, of course, only encouraged Vette.

Good times.

As the room emptied save for herself, Corellan and Teeseven, Vette made her way over to him, clutching her datapads. He’d been standing at the middle of the table during the meeting while Lana Beniko and Theron Shan sat at his right, with Teeseven at his left. Come to think of it, he was the only person in the room who’d remained standing during the entire meeting. His place at the table didn’t even have a chair.

Weird.

“Uhm. Is there a problem with the communiques, Commander?”

Corellan, who had been looking down at his own datapad, turned towards her.

“Hmm? Oh, no. Not at all, Vette. You’ve been doing excellent work.” He smiled at her reassuringly. “I’m glad you chose to stay with us.”

Vette exhaled in relief, not realizing she’d been holding her breath.

“Great. Great. Thanks. So… uhm. You wanted to talk?”

“Right. Its rather awkward.” Corellan turned to look down at Teeseven. “Tee, can you load that message from yesterday?”  

Teeseven beeped his approval, apparently requiring no more clarification than that. A second later, the Commander’s data pad chimed. He pressed a button.

“So I received this direct message in error. It’s probably related to the new directory security system Theron just setup. But it was apparently intended for you.”

He handed the pad over to Vette who looked down at the text.  

From: Avus Dayne

Subject: My blue flower

Vette,

You don’t know me, but I’m a pilot with the Alliance fleet. I noticed you the second you stepped on Odessen, and I've been watching you from afar ever since.

Sorry, that's creepy, isn't it?

Anyway, I wrote a poem:

‘My flower of blue,

I pine for you.

Your laugh is so cute,

And your head tentacle things are also cute.’

It needs work. But the point is, I think you're pretty and I was wondering if you want to get a drink together.

If you don't, tell me and I'll leave you alone forever.

Avus (that's my name)

“Uhm. Wow.” Vette felt her cheeks turn faintly purple with a blush.

She was embarrassed. Part of her wondered if she should be offended. It was just a little creepy, sending someone a message – much less a poem! – out of the blue like that. Then again, Vette had met more than her share of real creeps over the course of her life. She didn’t get that sort of vibe from this letter.

The Commander waited a beat before continuing.

“Now this is none of my business, you understand.” Corellan added, his voice amicable. “I’m only talking to you now because the message was addressed to you, so I felt you deserved to see it.” He paused. “He did send me a follow-up message, that I’m willing to share with you, but only if you’re interested.” Corellan glanced down at the pad. “Just click the ‘Next Message’ button.”

Vette pursed her lips for a second, chewing that over, then overcome by curiosity she finally tapped the pad.  

From: Avus Dayne

Subject: DO NOT READ PREVIOUS MESSAGE

My sincerest apologies, Commander. That message was not intended for you. Please delete it without opening.

But if you did read it... Do you think I have a shot?

Vette chuckled at the words, taken with the awkwardness of this guy. The messages were ridiculous, but at the same time, they were so earnest, too.

“Huh.” She finally said.

Corellan regarded her for another second, giving her a moment to think about things before pressing on.

“Like I said, its none of my business. I was just passing these on to you. I haven’t responded to him. Nor do I plan to do so unless you ask me to.”

“Uhm. Well. Thank you.” she exhaled, relieved that this situation hadn’t become more complicated.

Vette was feeling disconcerted by the whole thing. Until a few years ago, Vette hadn’t been used to people expressing an ‘interest’ in her. She’d spent most of her life in the shadow of more conventionally attractive women like Tivva, Risha and Taunt. All three had been sisters and like-sisters to Vette, but she’d always envied their confidence and their looks, and the attention they’d drawn. Then later there was Jaesa – never a friend, but another young woman who’d made her feel insecure. Vette had had a crush on Kael; she could admit that to herself now. But she’d eventually stifled it. He’d been nice to her, or at least nicer to her than most of her employers over the years, but she had no illusion about who he was what he could do. He had not been a nice guy. Jaesa was welcome to him, for all the good it had done either of them in the end. That had been years ago, though, and most of the people she and Gault had dealt with since then weren’t the type she wanted to be involved with. Not in that way.

Still, she had felt more comfortable about life in general in the weeks since she’d joined the Alliance…

She looked back down at the datapad.

“So. Uhm. What do you think?” she asked aloud.

“I’m sorry, what do I think regarding what?” Corellan raised an eyebrow.

Vette nibbled her lower lip. She’d never imagined having a conversation like this with a Jedi. Or ex-Jedi, even.

“I mean, do you think I should meet him? For a drink, or whatever?”

The Commander blinked.

“Well. I was a Jedi, Vette.” He explained himself. “Even if I’ve left that life behind, I’m probably one of the least qualified people to ask about things like that.” He looked down wistfully. “With the exception of my association with one rather philandering field medic, I have little experience with… uhm, courtship.” Corellan stammered a bit near the end, as if he had been trying to find the words, awkwardly.

It was funny to think of the Commander, who she’d personally seen storm through legions of Sky Troopers, as awkward about anything. He normally exuded confidence and poised.  

“Yeah.” Vette swallowed. “Me neither, actually.”

Vette winced. That was way too personal a thing to say. She and the Commander hardly knew each other.  

“But uhm. What are your… impressions of him, I guess?”

“Well.” Corellan took the datapad again and clicking back to the original message and considering. “I must say he sounds sincere to me. And he seemed a reputable individual from his personnel file, for whatever that’s worth. There was nothing to suggest he would do anything unpleasant to someone he was working with.”

Vette started to nod in appreciation, then stopped herself, noting what he’d said.

“You, uhm, read his file?”

“I did.”

“Because his message went to you and not me?”

“No, not at all. I look over everyone’s file.”

Vette blinked. The Alliance was still small compared to the other galactic powers, but all told, they still had hundreds of members by now, with more signing up every day.

“Everyone’s? I mean, that must take you forever.”  

Corellan frowned a bit, gathering his thoughts.

“Well, I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I haven’t been able to meet everyone in person, yet. We send so many of our people out on missions at any given point and there just isn’t enough time. But learning their face and their name, that at least is a start. For me, anyway. So every evening when I head back to my quarters, I have Teeseven load up some personnel files.” He smiled affectionately, patting the chassis of the AstroMech droid’s top. “It takes some time but it’s worth it and it makes for good bedtime reading.”

His expression had softened, his light blue eyes dwelling on a less complicated time.

“The idea that there are people working for me, even fighting for me, who I don’t even know is… well that’s a new one for me. It’s one more thing I’ll have to get used to, I suppose.”

Vette found herself charmed by this sentiment, though it also concerned her just a bit. In her experience, people in positions of power rarely did things like personally checking on every who worked for them. If he was losing sleep over minutiae, that could be bad for everyone.

For the moment, she kept on track.

“And you remembered Avus, just from skimming his file?”

He shrugged, indifferently.

“Actually, I don’t forget anything.”

Vette’s eyes widened.

“That’s a neat trick.” She whistled. “Is that from being a Jedi?” she hadn’t recalled Jaesa ever demonstrating instant recall like that.

“Thank you. And no. Its just something I’ve always been able to do.” Corellan shrugged again.

“Well, I wish I could do that.” Realization came to Vette, as she attempted to digest all of this. She eyed the Commander worriedly.

“So… you’ve probably read my file, too.”

“Well, yes.” He’d obviously picked up on her concern but seemed non-plussed about it, not comprehending the bantha in the room Vette had been hinting at.

“Uhm.” She paused but couldn’t leave it alone. “You must know I used to work for Kael.”

Corellan nodded with understanding, his face growing somber.

“I do.”

She looked up and regarded him.

“You still trust me with… your communications? And the field work, and everything?”

Corellan Halcyon’s face finally relaxed. This seemed familiar ground for him.

“You’ve given me no reason to think I shouldn’t. And the quality of your work speaks for itself. We couldn’t have raided the Gilded Star without you.” He spoke confidently, then gave her a reassuring look. “Vette, what happened between myself and Kael was never personal for me. Yes, he did things I considered monstrous, but so did nearly every other Sith Lord I’ve fought. He had his reasons for fighting Revan after Vitiate rejected him. When we finally fought on Yavin, I felt his rage and the pain behind it. And I exploited those weaknesses to beat him.”

He sighed in regret.  

“I truly regret that I couldn’t find another way. But there were countless lives on the line and I still had to deal with Revan. And the Emperor. So it went the way that it did.”

Corellan’s light blue eyes re-focused on Vette.

“For what its worth, I’m sorry. I know you weren’t working for him at the time, but that had to have been difficult when you heard what happened.”

Vette looked down at the table. Those were old wounds. She didn’t want to get into all that right now.

“Someday I’ll tell you about my time with Kael and his crew.” She swallowed. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t hold any of that against you.”

It was Corellan’s turn to nod in relief.

“I appreciate that.”

Vette awkwardly looked down at the datapad again.

“I think… I’ll send him a message. Just to see how it goes.”

The Commander smiled slightly.

“Sounds good.” Then he paused, an idea popping up in his mind. “Oh, but if you do wind up telling him you’re not interested and then he bothers you again, then absolutely come to me. I’ll take care of it if there’s a problem.”

Vette found herself grinning at the offer.

“I wouldn’t think you had much experience in scaring off creeps.” She mused.

A small grin formed across Corellan’s lips.

“I don’t, really. But as it so happens, my personnel resources director is a Sith Lord.” He offered, his eyes sparkling a bit. “She’s very… persuasive when it comes to conflict resolution.”

Vette laughed at that, breaking up what had become a heavy mood. Lana Beniko was the model of professionalism, but she was scary.

“Okay. Well… thanks for talking to me about this. And for being okay about everything.”

“Not at all. Thank you for being here.” His chrono pinged. “Ah. I have to go meet with Hylo to discuss the logistical situation.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Vette smiled. “I should get back to the war room.”

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to Theron about the bugs in the directory system.”

With that, they parted company.

Vette smiled to herself as she left the conference chamber. She’d meet with this ‘Avus’ guy. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it wouldn’t. But Vette felt that she’d be okay either way.

It was a good feeling.

Author’s Notes: The mis-sent letter has always been one of my favorite moments in KOTFE.

For the record, in this continuity, Vette does meet with Avus for a drink. He’s nice enough, but she decides he’s not for her. He’s okay with that. They remain friends to this day.

Corellan rarely sits down, except for the pilot seat of his ship. The reason for this will come up some day.

I’ve made references to Corellan’s eidetic memory in the past, but it rarely comes up so directly in a story.

I do kind of ship Vette with someone in this continuity. But that comes much later in my story.

I don’t know how Avus didn’t know that they are called “lekkus”.

Kael was not a nice Sith Warrior. More on him another time. @swtor-writers-guild​ , @swtorshipping​

[mismashedsocks]

 so riordan made a half assed lame excuse on his lazy/racist writing on piper yesterday and on top of that he made another one on samirah and i’m muslim so i am going to talk about it

damn i’m so sorry these people have been pushing you past your comfort zone about your wildly popular racist caricatures of minorities that have great impact on your young, impressionable target audience. while its fine that if he takes a break for his mental health he still needs to deal with these problems you can’t just take a break and hope they go away.

why does he think everyone is bullying him. if they talked in all caps, cussed at you, or didn’t stop bothering you, i’m sorry they’re just trying to get you to realize how racist your books are, which you keep refusing to believe. i can believe that a few of them were doing it for attention, but it couldn’t be the majority. and my god, god forbid people want you to write your books the way you preferred, without racist stereotypes. 🙈

you can set your boundaries but you keep ignoring the people, you don’t listen. like you put yourself out there as a writer you are open to criticism

why does he keep doing this to seem like the good guy. you give excuses and don’t do anything and just say that its up to you, you can think whatever you want 🥰🥰. like its such an obvious excuse not to take any action.

i’m sorry but no matter how many muslims you’ve interacted with you haven’t gotten the full experience and last time i checked teachers aren’t the kids best friends soo uhm. anyways the rest of it is just him telling his experience with muslimah students so its just there.

so uhm you just said your students ‘unwillingly’ become an ambassador to everyone she knew’. and then you went to talk to them about islam to make sure you were TEACHING THEM YOUR SOURCE MATERIAL CORRECTLY. i’m sorry imagine. these are kids not some scholars you go to consult. there are so many muslims all over the internet and youtube sharing their experiences for you to access on how to ‘represent their experience’ correctly. you’re the teacher here. picture this:as a muslilm, i teach at a public school and while teaching about Christianity in class, no i would double check or some dumb shit with the students. like educate yourself i’m sorry. anyways apparently he blames his mistakes on himself then goes on to deny he ever made any mistakes i can’t.

so this is a blatant lie. 99% of muslims i’ve met have never read all of sahih bukhari and sahih muslim. usually only scholars do that when they are studying islam for YEARS. and FIVE different interpretations of the quran on top of that. ok so sahih bukhari is 9 books that are over 300 pages each and sahih musilm is 7 volumes with also about 300+ pages each. and then the english versions of the quran are 600 pages. and he claims he read five of them. i’m so sorry but no he didn’t. he writes books so fast and he released mcga around the time toa was being released almost one book per year so he did not have a lot of spare time. the rest ig i can let slide. also and if he did do all of that why does he make so many mistakes in writing samirah. and even IF you accept his excuses reading ALL of this source material is great for teaching your class or whatever but not for writing a modern day muslim. you don’t need to lie to us rick ❤️

most of this is just describing what she’s like but his writing did also add in the model minority, smart kid trope. like no they don’t have to be a terrorist or a A+ student who is the best at everything. there is a middle ground to their personality. 

i actually used to love his rep in sam. that’s how i got into the series. i saw a hijabi girl on his website. i got excited and read all of his books. i loved piper, leo, hazel, percy, annabeth, sadie, carter, nico, everyone. now that i look back i was younger and didn’t see anything wrong with it back then. its great that he tried to portray minorities but he did it so badly and now is just denying the faults that his now older readers are trying to tell him.

hey, uhm didn’t you read all of sahih bukhari and muslim? hmm i didn’t think so. anyways the way he dealt with it honestly wasn’t that bad. but the whole ‘whoops’. like why does he keep portraying himself as the innocent old white man just trying his best.

honestly how he wrote samirah as a hijabi was the dumbest thing i’ve ever read. its is totally fine if she wasn’t hijabi, many muslim girls aren’t, and that is their choice. but he decided to make her like a weird middle ground. it was so lazy and inconsistent. in the first book she says she wears it when she needs to, like in situations like going to the masjid. this was fine, since many muslim girls do that. then in the next books she wears it all the time except when she’s in valhalla for some reason. hijabi girls take of their scarves when they’re at home or with family, but making her claim the entirety of vallhalla as her family. that was just demeaning and stupid to me. it takes away its value. and i fucking hated that last sentence. for hijabis, their hijab is important and not a toy or weapon or a MAGIC ITEM. and then on top of that she would have to take it of to hide. he could’ve made it anything else. her hijab isn’t some token item istg.

i love how he admits that they are a big problem and abusive and usually engage with child marriages. i’m relatively he doesn’t understand what the people even meant by it. the practice is a problem that isn’t supposed to be seen in a nice light. the only possible way it could be slightly ok is that if ADULTS agree they 100% do not want to choose who they want to get married to and let their parents choose, and both sides agree. samirah was a child and he decided to make her wedding life decided since the age of 12. and it was ok because amir was conventionally attractive and she loved him. WHAT IF SHE DIDNT. this literally is a dangerous arranged marriage. and arranged marriages are not ok, and mostly perpetuated by victims of it who will end up passing it down their family lines. my parents got an arranged marriage and I HAVE NEVER SEEN THEM DISPLAY ANY SIGNS OF AFFECTION. arranged marriages are not a trope that your can turn around to be a quirky personality trait for your characters.

i’m sorry that’s not how arranged marriages work. most likely if she said something her grandparents would have shut her done and continued with the marriage, as that is what you usually happens. do not portray the small amount of consented, ‘happy’ arranged marriages as the majority. it is a huge problem that many desi/middle eastern cultures are trying to erase. even on top of that he writes situations where she’s going to be in trouble for acting up and ‘jeopardizing the marriage agreement’ and that her grandparents think she’s ‘lucky that she could get the fadlan family to agree to marry their son to her’. these statements are often used in forced and dangerous marriages, so don’t try and justify your actions. if you wanted to show traditional customs in a positive light, there are so many richer parts of samirah’s culture you could’ve focused on and you chose arranged marriage. 😻 all you’ve done is given parents and authority figures a westernized resource to justify arranged and forced marriages, especially with the minimal explanation on how the marriage isn’t forced in the actual books. and yes, your books do condone child marriage samirah is clearly deemed into this marriage ever since the young age of 12. she lived her life knowing she would marry amir. no one has only one crush throughout their life. imagine how she would’ve grown up. sorry you only consider opinions that align with those in you mind.

i’m going to be honest i did like that one scene it was written nicely and accurately but the explanation he gives just ruins the entire thing. the way he just if this strikes you as islamophobic, or samirah as a hurtful, uhm no explanation i just disagree 😽. the way you wrote her is a hurtful stereotype sorry you can’t see it.

oops, you did. too bad you don’t want to do anything about it.

why do you think people are painting you in a negative light, so many of your characters are written on hurtful and negative stereotypes. people aren’t painting it that way, you need to calm down w your ego and listen. dang i’m sorry your best is giving half-assed excuses and not actually doing anything. i’m even more sorry people are mad that a highly privileged author that has a lot of influence is done talking about his racist depictions of minorities in his books. 

dang must be lucky to take a break from the social media, imagine what all the minorities you wrote about have to go with everyday weather they are on social media or not. people aren’t bullying you this is valid criticism you refuse to listen to.

fuck you

obviously these are my opinions do not judge every muslim based on what i’ve said come to me if you have a problem with it

anyways support jewish, muslim, black, brown, asian, hispanic, indigenous, lgbtq+, disabled, and other minority authors and creators.