#obviously I knew about the age ban

[gladiatorcunt]

- JOYRIDE / VIII.

i drink the honey inside your hive

cw: kinktober prompt (daddy kink), southern florist president’s secret child!reader x secret service agent!toji, reader has a vagina, tits used to refer to your chest, age gap (toji is 47 and reader’s early-mid 20’s), dad bf type shit, willing to expand on this, hints of political intrigue and fictional plots, toji x your mom mention, implied and eventual betrayal (not of reader), typical politician behavior, parental neglect & it’s consequences, anal & lack of proper anal prep, dirty talk, light pet play, arguable one sided incest role play & possible actual incest, plus sized!reader, gun play mention, underlying mental health issues, mention of itafushi, flower language, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“There. After nearly breaking my back, the seeds are all planted, finally.”

You'd like to be buried under this magnolia tree, it would be a pretty funeral. Black outfits against the white backdrop of rare winter snow. You have big dreams for this sapling, clearly, as unassuming and drab as it appears freshly planted in the soil of your garden. The ones you’re mom took care of are all gone, maybe they got up and walked after her to somewhere on the horizon. If it doesn’t get so hot the state gets put under another burn ban next summer, this little thing should grow into a beautiful thing that obviously showcases how not depressed you are.

Could a depressed person cope with grief by growing a new life? Well, you wouldn’t know, coping isn’t on your to-do list for a long time if ever. What’s the point of getting better when you’re just going to feel bad again?

Whatever, you shake your head and head back into the shop, you have bills to pay and moping around won’t do anything to help with them. Since you live in a pretty small town, it’s a slow day like always. That is until a tough looking man steps in through the door, opening it and making the bell ding.

His loud sports car is still on and roaring outside, a bright yellow Alfa Romeo 4C.

The man notices your wandering eye and smirks, “You like it, doll? Didn’t take you for someone who’d be interested in cars.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s cool. Must have cost you a lot.”

“Nah. I bought it off one of my buddies at work, fixed it up myself. Well, me and my son’s boyfriend that is. You lookin’ to get somethin’ like that for yourself?”

You’re not really on the market for one, no, because it’s loud as hell and practically rumbling in your ear. You rub it off and ask him what he wants, forgetting some of your politeness, but this man doesn’t seem like he’d care if you spit in his face and kicked him in the balls.

“I’m not from around here.” He rasps and adjusts his sunglasses, leaning one heavy arm on the counter and cocking his hip out, “DC, actually. I’m lookin’ for somebody. You could call it confidential business.”

You hum and narrow your eyes, “Unless that confidential business involves a funeral or getting out of the doghouse with somebody, I can’t help you.”

Suddenly you remember your mother telling you about a big shot politician that knocked her up with you, how he hid you both away when she told him she was pregnant. Your mother was down on her luck 16 year old diner girl, and apparently the politician knew all too well how to use and discard her. The money was enough for your mom to give up her dreams and keep you in this town. When you’ve lived so long without what you think you should, you’re fine to obsessively make sure you never go without again.

He’s the president now anyway, even more reason to make sure you’re the bug that stays squashed under the rock.

The man with the mouth scar notices and decides to drop the act, sighing and taking out his gun. He doesn’t shoot you, just scratches underneath his chin with the puzzle and pointedly makes eye contact with you.

“Okay, let’s cut the shit. My name’s Toji Fushiguro, and I know that you’re who I'm after just as much as you know why i’m here, so why don’t ya just appreciate that y’r old man wants you back and come with me?”

You grit your teeth but you know there’s only one way this interaction is going to end is with you getting in the passenger seat of this nutjob’s car. He watches you shut everything off in the shop and leave a message for the only other employee, asking them to take over until you can come back. He’s a gigantic wolf, tall and silent in the corner, keeping his eyes constantly on his prey. Toji’s never let a bunny or prickly house cat out of his sight in his entire career, but in his current line of work it’s at least legal. Essentially.

“Pretty flowers ya got here.” He says, prolonging your unease. “Maybe his office could use some of these, dull ass beige box that it is.”

Your lips quirk up despite the awful situation, “Yeah I guess. The camellias are new, but hellebores are my favorites, I think. Not many people are into flowers this time of year, but I don’t have anything else to do.”

Toji nods, leading you out of the shop with a hand at the small of your back and oddly content to let you stress babble.

“I’m nowhere near good enough to do arrangements for the White House anyway, regardless of who’s sitting all cozy in it.” You spit and bite one of your nails, nipping at a piece of a hangnail. “Probably’d just throw some buttercups, yellow carnations, orange lillies on the floor, a bit of aconite in there too.”

You know that the agent corralling you into his car doesn’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about, but he seems at ease the more you relax into the leather car seat.

You make yourself fall asleep when he puts the car into drive and speeds down the street.

You’ve been in DC for about a week now, without ever actually meeting your dad of course but you’ve met plenty of his staff after Toji introduced you. He’s a secret service agent, who was given the special task of watching over the president’s only child, you can tell he’s not that happy about it.

Probably not as much action as there’d be in his usual position, you’re very willing to go with their plans of you laying low and staying inside most of the time. You’re still so confused, none of this makes any sense at all. You’ve lived your whole life without being involved in any of this but it’s only when your mother’s dead and your father can’t ignore you anymore that he wants to claim you?

It’s all another move in the game towards the re-election. At least he’s a better president than a father, but that’s not by much. Promises to address climate change and the country’s oil dependance getting pushed to the side, worsening class issues and trickle down economics, putting up more anti-homeless measures. You wish you felt like you could leave, but the tiny sliver of hope that by some weird miracle you could do something keeps you from being bold.

There’s nothing you could actually do anyway, you’re never going to be a part of the groups that their agendas support. You’ll always be the small town reject who saw meth addicts at the local gas station more than your own father.

You and Toji have gotten closer, by necessity and the sheer oddity of being polar opposites. You’re both equally as prickly though in different ways, birds of a molted feather. He’s there when you wake up, there during your mundane day, and there outside your door when you go to sleep. Even if you wouldn’t have liked your “bodyguard”, and you’re not sure you do, the distance between the two of you decreasing was inevitable.

He delivers you food, opens your jars, fixes the pipes in your penthouse, drives you everywhere you want to go in the city, carries your books for you in a bookstore, kneels down beside you in the dirt so he can help you with weeding out your garden, and keeps an itemized list of period supplies and your favorite things.

Your favorite minor holiday is national cherry day, he puts a reminder on his phone with the help of his son to always stop by the supermarket and get you some.

You feel like Whitney Houston right now, and if late at night you listen to her albums more than your mom did growing up, fantasizing about a 40+ year old man who treats you like a bug he has to keep alive, then no one has to know.

But no other man’s gonna do

So i’m saving all my love for you

You also think he’s going to assassinate your father. Sometimes you’ll hear hushed whispers late at night between Toji and someone on the phone, he’ll break protocol and leave you alone to duck into another person’s office and end up leaving with a grim look on his face.

You’ve seen the logs he keeps of your father’s whereabouts, which he should have anyway. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but you get the most awful storm in your gut when you see them under a gun that’s never been fired, like it has a special purpose.

You only speak to your father briefly, tense hellos and goodbyes exchanged over the bridge of a too tight handshake. You immediately expressed your distaste for being involved in his political career and he accepted that, letting you galavant on your merry way around town with his most dangerous agent. Ahead of Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, and Sukuna Ryomen, your father’s closest gaggle of hyenas.

You call them that because you could easily imagine drool dripping from their jowls if they felt so inclined to attack, to devour.

They give Toji their own versions of the same look when you pass them in the halls or they need to meet to give security updates, watching and waiting.

They only give you smiles, of every shape and size.

It’s easy to get a closer look at what your father does, the lives he ruins. Peace can only be an option for so long before other courses of action have to be considered. You don’t know Toji’s motives, this could just be another murder for hire paid for by one of your father’s political rivals. You doubt his heart is that deeply invested in those sorts of things, he’s made himself too apathetic, but you can tell that he still cared a little bit. He told you once that he’s had children who grew up starving before he got the job he has now.

They’re your age now, but he’d still do anything to keep it, to support them.

And then you think that maybe someone who’s only ever been abandoned knows what it’s like to hoard any good thing you can get your grubby hands on.

You give him own little bouquet of flowers one day, half because you’re going stir crazy as the weeks go by with Toji being all you know and half because you think you do want him to kill your father.

Purple Orchid.

Red Lily.

Red Anemone.

Gloriosa.

Red Delphinium.

Red Clematis.

Genista.

The next day, he’s barking at you to get packed for a stay at one of the out of the state safe houses. Don’t ask questions, protocol means you heed his warning and hop back in that canary yellow mid life crisis status symbol.

The tension was bound to be cut with a knife, the whole ride to the safe house is filled with sideways glances and slipknot blaring from the speakers. You have the same uneasy feeling that you do anytime Toji even hints at something being wrong, but something seems especially wrong this time. It’s not your job to worry about it though, and the older man tells you as much.

“Shut y’r trap, alright? You never have to get your panties in a twist when y’r with me, sorta.”

The safe house is as boring as expected, something out of a kindergartener's drawing. One story cube shaped, small roof, faded brown door.

You're only in the tiny kitchen for a second when Toji locks the door and comes to prop himself up on the counter, licking his scar.

He chuckles, “You’re a lot different than I thought you'd be, ya know that?

“I could say the same about you, I mean not really, but there are things I was surprised by.” You retort and sort through the cabinets, picking what cereal you’re going to stress eat tonight.

He comes around the counter and his hands slide from the tile to grip your waist.

“Yeah? Like what, doll?” Is cooed right in front of your mouth when Toji leans down.

You’re not immune to the proximity, your heart does a factory reset. “I never knew you could be so sweet, Toji.”

You’re not supposed to refer to him by his name, but you can’t let the word you secretly want to say slip out. You’d have to tell the employee back at your flower shop to be ready to claim the insurance policy on it after you go back and set yourself on fire.

But God, the miserable man looming over your bunny-tense figure really is sweet, distantly warm in the way a generally emotionally unavailable father is. But Toji’s the kind that would actually give you something to hold close to your heart over his long stretches of being absent until months go by and he tries to be better again.

You’re glad Sigmeund Freud isn’t an immortal vampire who would still be around to psychoanalyze you to shreds.

“Sweet to you maybe, ‘cause I have to be.”

“My dad couldn’t care less if you beat me silly.”

“I know.”

He never once said it was your father that compelled him to be as gentle with you as he is. A woman he met decades one, shacking up with an up and coming politician who he didn’t even try and pretend to be better then. They hooked up once and then he met his late wife, but months later the woman from his one night stand swore the baby in her belly wasn’t his. He never asked for a paternity test.

He never will, he’s already enough like your Daddy anyway, there’s no point in getting a confirmation or a denial to what his soul (and his cock) knows is good enough for a rat bastard like him.

You come out of your shame spiral as he splays one of his beefy gigantic hands out on the counter so you don’t get cold when he pushes your head down.

“I’d kill your old man if he kept me from this ass pussy, but it ain’t like he could if he tried.” Toji grunts, pendulous balls slapping your ass like a couple of grapefruits with every rough thrust in your puckered hole.

You gave up on being shy as soon as he clamped a hand around your throat to direct the first kiss you’d share. “Daddy- ngh, you’re gonna break me”.

His hand is so warm, your cheek squishes against the grooves and minor cracks in his skin as your head bobs forward. Despite you already being pressed down into the kitchen counter as much as humanly possible, Toji seems determined to force you to become one with it.

He gropes your thick ass cheeks, watching them bounce and jiggle as his burly hips slam against you continuously. Performance art in its truest form, whiney little baby pushing their hips back to take him even deeper in their fat ass. He didn’t have the means to properly prep you, just spit on his hand and massaged it into your already wet rim and called it a day. No condom either, but he can probably save the pussy job and it's obvious consequences until after your old man’s been made to lie face down in the dirt.

“I like the way your cunt sits under your squishy belly, ‘s pouting, baby. Both you and your pussy are clingy as fuck, huh?” He laughs deeply, reaching the hand that’s not under your face to smack your clit.

Your empty cunt gets wetter at the teasing, clenching around nothing because Toji likes to play pretend that he can be halfway considerate to the poor thing until he can’t. You want it too much right now, when you’re all loopy from his mean pounding in your ass is the moment he’ll regretfully have to pull himself out to sheath his hung length in your chubby pussy.

You moan, thought it gets precariously close to a wail the longer it goes on. “Daddyyyyyyy, oh fuck, shit- ‘m gonna tear.”

Your words end in a squeal of delight, your off the cuff rambling driving Toji to speed up his thrusts to piston his fat cock harder into your ass. Like he almost wants it to tear, your biological daddy gave you some nasty emotional scars, let your real one leave you with a couple physical ones. That’s what good daddies do, they take care of their babies and always give them something to remember them by when they won’t like their ancient relic of a father so much.

“Now don’t get mad at me, but- Oh, fuck- i was gonna kill ya, that was the plan. Take ya back, blow your brains out in front of your dad, make ‘im piss his pants because he knows he’s next.” He smiles knowingly when his hand on your clit feels it throb at his dark thinking-out-loud musings, wishing he could scrunch his fingers all up in your scalp and roughly pet you. “You like it like that, baby bunny? Daddy gets you gooey and syrupy sweet when he touches you, huh? Could just gobble you up whole, bones and all.”

Fuckin’ hell, you’re more precious than diamonds or gold or any loot he could’ve swiped from your old man’s crib. He’ll have to remember to slide his cock between your slick girls later, soap them up in the freestanding bathtub and spill his thick off white load all over them. You’ll lick up what you can but cleaning you up is obviously Daddy’s job, slurping up his own jizz like a wolf smoothing his rowdy pup’s fur down, nuzzling his nose in the valley of your tits and in the crook of your armpits.

“Daddy-” Your mouth gapes, little punched out ‘unh-unh-unh’s fly out of your mouth as your ass ripples. A few of your hairs stick to your forehead and you look over your shoulder, flushed and overwhelmed.

He just said he was going to kill you, you couldn’t even say when he changed his mind if he’s even telling the truth. But all you can focus on is that you really hope no other security personnel arrive at the safe house to check on you, whatever the fuck you’re doing definitely isn’t protocol.

Toji leans forward and scruffs the back of your neck with his canines, nipping the skin and leaving a mark as he slams his hips forward again. His grip on your love handles becomes iron clad and binding, wishing on a shooting star for bruises to form. He plunges in to the hilt with every thrust and gnaws at your sloped shoulder, he’s gonna cum and fill your cute little butt up. Pump your backdoor so full of cump it bulges and trickles down your trembling thighs.

You keen brokenly, floating up and away into his kiss. Which is basically more of an affectionate bite, but his tongue is mapping out your teeth and your cherry chapstick lips glide against his cold weather chapped ones. So it can be technically considered a kiss, but it leaves you reeling, someone just smashed a rock into your face and you’re collapsed on the ground unable to walk it off.

You try to squirm away from the earth shattering pleasure.

“What i’d say about givin’ me a chance, doll? Anyway, you were good as dead until I actually laid eyes on ya. Pretty thing, soft heart with a softer touch, ripe for the picking and left all alone…”

He can feel you getting close, you’re humping back against him like a bunny in heat as his thumb does a frenzied dance on your clit. He slides his big hand up your body to strum your nipples, his soft as a butterfly’s wing touch contrasting deliciously with his diabolically rough strokes.

In the fantasy he coos in your ear and asks if you agree that he did such a good job making this body, didn’t he? He twists his wrist on your pert bud, timing his ministrations with the upwards angled stroke of his cock. Your whimpering, his thick tip hitting the sensitive place you’ve never been able to reach with your fingers or your extra large toys.

“Fill me up, Daddy, please.” You beg, tears streaming down your face and sticking to his hand cushioning you. You turn your head the tiniest bit to wetly smack your lips together, kissing the rugged appendage. “It’s so hungry, I need it, give it up to me already. Not goin’ anywhere.”

Your cock-crazed eyes widen in panic whenever he acts like he’s gonna pull out, allowing you only the tip before grinning and sliding all the way home once again.

“Don’t worry, baby. I fixed it, didn't i? Got you all plugged up and owned doll, would sooner ride the muzzle of Shiu’s gun than kill ya now. Y’r soakin’ my balls so goddamn good.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you-“

Holy fuck, you can’t breathe. You can’t fucking breathe because how can you when all the air in your lungs is beaten out of you by some 47 year olds’s massive cock. The coarseness of his body is so right for you, abrasive where you’re soft and riddled with signs of being battleworn where your body’s only enemy is you. You feel split right down the middle and you’re half afraid that when Toji eventually pulls out, you’ll fall apart and actually become two bleeding halves of a whole fucked out person.

Your clit throbs at the mental image of his hairy swallowing the muzzle of a gun, Toji licks his lips and mercifully lets you reach behind yourself to claw at his rippling muscular glutes as he fucks you. Your ass squeezes his cock in a vice like grip as you shoot your load onto the pale wood laminated floor below. Your ass cheeks jiggle as your hips jump forward, grinding against the air as you get it all out. Riding that lightning off to who knows where.

“Jesus, oh, Jesus- You’re so fucking insane, Jesus Christ!”

At least Daddy will be there, because you’re certain you’re gonna crave keeping him inside and Toji seems like a terrible guy to try to do cockwarming with.

“Shit, baby bunny, this bouncy cottontail is gonna milk me dry, take me for all my money, isn’t that right honey bunny?” His voice is coated with sickenly toe curling condescension.

He roars a guttural groan, his nails forming crescent shaped indents in your hips as he pushes his cock as far as it can go and spurts his hot cum into your ass with a gruff grunt. He can feel your walls spasm around his dick, the sensation hurtles him further over the edge and his hips jerk and the joints begin to creak from the effort.

He’s not the wild and reckless young man who fucked your mother anymore, but you have him all wrong if you think he’s going to roughouse your shit any differently.

When you’ve both calmed down, his salt and pepper stubble gives you beard burn between the fleshy globes, punctuated by a breathless snicker and a barely there peck to your ass hole.

“Sleep in tomorrow, baby bunny” He says abruptly, his tone dropping to become startlingly serious. “I’ll bring back some breakfast for ya, give you a massage. I better come back and find your adorable ass right where I put it to bed, ya hear me?.”

“Yes, Daddy. ‘Said I wasn’t going anywhere.”

He pats your lower back, curling his thick digits around an invisible ball of fur.

[bendyartistic]

Be aware of alexbstudios.

Over the course of what I believe a few months maybe, Alex has been harassing me with strange behavior and as of recent hurtful remarks too. He's been bothering other people as well from what I've seen. Probably going to say I should've just blocked him, but I wanted to keep an eye on things just in case. Today was the point in time after everything that I realized I should let people know about this kid.

I want to show from the beginning to present time of the interactions he's done with me. And maybe something can be done about getting him off the platform...

Firstly I want to say Alex has admitted to being 12 years old... apparently. I know this from this reblog. This already is a very large red flag. Considering the young age, no a callout doesn't seem right but I still want to warn people regardless since he's still active on the platform.

Though I am uncertain if this is true, he did not confirm nor deny my question about it.

Now lets get to the start of things. I don't like people reposting my art anywhere without credit, surely that can be said for everyone.

Randomly in May Alex reposted my art, no credit, mention of who made it, or where it came from. I should mention Alex had been following me well before this post, so he knew who I was. Rightfully I responded with a request to take it down as I didn't appreciate this.

Upon making this request he made a small complaint about it, which was unneeded. While he did "delete" the post, it still technically there, just edited. Therefore never officially removed like I had asked.

He also uploaded two other drawings I did, but he did not remove those ones.

Not too long ago on a post I made showcasing my Chris model, as it had been a while since I posted it, and I wanted to let people see it.

Alex later said some... questionable things about it. And it really made me uncomfortable to say the least.

For context in my AU, my Chris is 29. This has been stated before a few times.

I want to get to the biggest thing here however, as this is what drove me to make this post. The consistent weird and hateful DM's he has sent me.

I have told Alex to leave me alone on several different occasions and he has refused to do so. Again I know I should've blocked but as I said, just wanted to wait in case. Truth is I don't like blocking people, never have, I feel weird doing it. But anyways Alex made a poll a week ago if I recall correctly of whether or not he should keep or delete his account. The poll won on keep. No sooner did this happen, Alex was in my DM's bothering me about it after I again told him to leave me alone.

The DM's are as followed with context and info:

He responded with something along the lines of "Then my account would become lost media!" to which I only responded "No one really cares."

Next post is where Alex starts to mock me for being slow with my replies. I don't quite understand what speed he expects me to write my replies at, I guess 5 seconds?

So as you have noticed Alex is now making fun of my autism, and it's going to continue in this unfortunately. Bringing up a disability in an argument should not happen. However at some point Alex accused me of creating alts to vote against his poll, I have none.

I'm not sure why me specifically... and I hate how me being "slow" keeps getting brought up. Also racism is somehow brought into this as well.

He spammed me with the same image repeatedly, and it continued for a while. Passing that, he wanted me to run the same poll he did on if I should keep or delete my account. I obviously declined.

He then blocked me after this.

Alex in the past DM'd me, when he made those remarks about my Chris model. I wasn't happy then and I'm still not about it.

I'm still puzzled as to why he calls being blocked as banned. Besides that this comes to the end of the DM ark. Alex has done other things, such as suggest people to draw strange stuff, edited other peoples work, steal other peoples work, and tried to stir up drama at one point.

In conclusion,

Alex is immature. And should not be here, especially this fandom. But in general he should not be online, it is clear he has unlimited access to whatever he wants.

I am sorry to my friends and others who have had to deal with him. That is all I have to say.

Any questions or whatnot is fine. Reblogs are appreciated in order to spread the word.

[morgana-ren]

Shigaraki would defiantly stalk a streamer who uses one of those vtuber models. He also probably thinks being a mod on their channel means there’s mutual attraction between them.

It's different.

It takes him a moment to get used to the image. The dimensions aren't the same-- 2D is so much different than 3D. The eyes aren't as wide as saucers and as vibrant as the sky, and the eyelashes don't touch the brim of the hair-- Oh, and the hair. The hair, obviously. He knew that one was coming.

It was supposed to cure him of this addiction, truth be told. Seeing the person behind the mask. Master said it would help absolve him of this desire, and help him focus again. He's been loose with the wallet-- and his attention.

His impudence and stubborn nature are usually tolerated by Master--within reason. But this has gotten, as his Master states, 'out of control.'

"End it, Tomura," The Master had said. "One way or another."

Hours upon hours and thousands upon thousands spent-- no, wasted-- staring at his computer screen, hardly blinking, hardly breathing. Enraptured by every word of the disembodied voice mouther by the uncanny cartoon. Hypnotized. Ensnared.

There's something there that spellbinds him. Some hidden bitterness or animosity that sings to him like a siren. He's not foolish enough to fall in love with a facade--or so he'd like to believe-- but the woman captured in his screen is something he swears he understands on a level no one else does-- or ever could.

'She's like me, Master. I could swear it!'

He was trusted to see an end to it. A lesson in control. Self discipline.

The solution was brilliantly simple.

Simple. Easy, easy, easy. He'd kill you and be done with it. The person behind the avatar wasn't her. It wasn't you he'd fallen for, it was her. Your persona.

Master is right. No one is like me.

You're a liar. A fake. You must be. No one is like him. No one feels how he feels. The undercurrent of hatred carried by the current of your voice is just a ploy to eat at vulnerable simpletons. And it almost worked on him.

He'd break the illusion you had over him. He'd crack the facade and rip it wide open. After that, he'd end it permanently.

There's the wretched feel of peeled scab beneath his nails. Blood-hungry fingertips drive into the rounds of his neck, searching reprieve beneath the dry skin, digging, digging, ever digging--

He had your trust. Modding your chat for ages, you suspected nothing, like most people when he lays on the flattery and charm online. It'd been all too easy to send a few exorbidant donations to win your attention, and a few more to win moderator.

'One way or another.'

He can see you through your webcam. Not you, but you. Not the avatar you pretend to be, but you: Unmasked and stripped and naked. Every expresssion, every eyeroll, every last thing the camera can't pick up to trace back to your beloved audience.

It's intimate. It's something you keep very deliberately veiled and yet, unbeknownst to you, you're entirely bared before him as he observes every grimace, every sneer, every last detail of your picture-perfect veneer crack behind the coded wall as he takes control. Things a mere camera cannot pick up but he can.

Yet now, you look tired. Peeled barren and exhausted. You are not the avatar, but a person. A person whose eyes he can see, and whose light and bubbly brilliance he cannot. A mirage dissipating before his very eyes.

It's effortless, really. Watching you; banning them; driving his courage and hatred to maximum to give him the ambition to do what he needed to do. He remembers the hero fundraiser stream you'd done a few months back. The collabs. Another media whore, another of the same--

You had bills, you'd told him in a DM. People liked hero shit, and it made you a lot of money. You didn't care about heroes, you'd said. You said, you said, you said---

He thought you were a liar.

It should be easy. It should. Fuck, it should be so, so easy. You smile derisively as you accept a donation that demands you talk in a baby voice. Another bill paid. Another humiliation tallied.

It's like looking into a fucking mirror.

You're lovely. You're angry. You're tired and jaded and clawing for reprieve. He can feel it. You're lovely. You're exhausted and you hate every last one of them. Every last one of them. You're lovely.

Something in him aches and for far from the first time, he places his hand on the screen to trace the low-res curve of your snarling cheek.

He will deal with it. Just like he said he would.

[girlbloggersfolly]

DELTA DAWN - part 2// Bee in your bonnet

Pairing: camp counselour!joel miller x camp lifeguard!afab!reader

Rating: E!!!!! 18+ MDNI

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: (1979 summer camp AU) Things go south one morning after a particularly catty argument between Joel and our lifeguard in Joel's boat shed/self proclaimed 'man cave'. - Pictures in the moodboard are simply to get the imagination racing and for me to spill my pinterest all over your screens, the reader is at no point described!

Chapter warnings: age gap (20 + 49), enemies to loves - i mean it, mean!joel, lowkey mean!reader but we love them both, slight vouyerism, cigarette smoking, talk of pornographic magazines, complicated relationship (billy and reader dw), oral (fem receiving), semi-public sex (door open but thats it, degrading, pet names (kiddo, sweetie, doll - the good stuff ykyk), fingering idk, slow burn, fem!masturbation dirty talk, no descriptors of reader except she has hair and is a similar height to joel cause im tired of the lack of tall girl representation in fics, sorry... if that ruins it for you just imagine i never said that), NO USE OF Y/N.

a/n: eekkkk ok you can probably tell from his horrific piece of writing that ive never done proper smut and i went a little overboard but i'm sure you'll like it anyway. i've probably got one or two more parts of their story left in me, depending on how happy i want the ending to be. Id love to get requests if anyone has any bright ideas! I love the 3 people who are reading this, it really makes me blush and you don't even know it.... also lmk if you want to be on the taglist for any future writings xxxx

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You were up in the chair early. Waking especially to sit and watch as the sun rose higher over the lake and above the pines, hoping to get there before Joel, just so you had time to ground yourself. You toyed with the cigarette between your fingers, a habit of yours that had really been getting you through the last agonising couple of days of avoiding Joel Miller, but there was no putting it off this morning. 

Kayaking. Something you’d never really specialised in and were not convinced you'd know how to deal with if things were to go south.However, as always, you kept your doubts to yourself. Joel was taking the kids today, he was good with them and obviously knew what he was doing on the water. You hoped that meant no accidents.

“No smoking in the chair, cupcake.” Here we go again.

“Good morning to you too, cupcake.” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to turn around to see the one thing on your frazzled mind, not bothering to put out the cigarette either, 

“Kids’ll be here soon, Lou’s bringin’em” He said coldly in reply, standing beside your chair, his face level with your hips as he looked out to the water.

 Even being raised above him like this you still felt vulnerable, what was it about him? He turned to look up at you with his big arms crossed against his torso, “so, be a doll and put that thing out f’me will’ya?” The chair rocked slightly as he patted it, condescending as ever. 

You rolled your eyes yet again and dropped the cigarette down beside his feet, raising your eyebrows. It was bratty and yeah probably a little crueller than required, but it felt damn good. “Happy?” you were pushing it, really pushing it, you could see it in Joel's hard expression. his impressive profile was only defined by the hot mid-morning sun as he glared up at you through narrowed eyes. He put on his ray-bans and turned away. =

The kids hung onto every word he said as he stood in front of you explaining to them how to kayak, in a way they never did with Billy or Abel, or even Sharon. You tried to listen, tried to look out at the lake, tried to do something that wasn't blatantly staring at his tight ass, the muscles in his back under his t-shirt. It was torture, adjusting in your chair, shifting around like a bitch in heat. 

“Eyes on the water, lifeguard,” He taunted you from the deck, you’d really needed to remember your sunglasses next time. 

If you thought the other day was bad, this was worse, sitting there melting into your lifeguard chair watching Joel being the hottest man alive and not caring how it might make you feel. The kids were playing capture the flag in the woods by the light of the setting sun, giving you a minute to cool off against a tree, the cigarettes lighting themselves at this point. 

Your skin was lit up by the orange light that dotted through the trees as it sunk below the horizon. It was the first moment of mercy you’d gotten from this god-awful day of Joel Miller and his stupid tanned skin, the little sweat droplets on the back of his neck, his salt and pepper scruff, the thought of how it would feel against your inner-

“Found you,” You smelt Billy before you saw him, his freckled arms embracing you from behind, knocking you out of your dreamy state. 

“You know this thing? It's called a shower, real cool I hear?” You chuckled, trying to laugh a little to disguise it as a joke, the last thing it was.

“Haha, very funny,” Billy smirked, planting wet kisses across your neck from behind, the moustache he’d been trying to grow tickling your jaw. 

“Quit it,” You raised your hands, your shoulders tensing like an alarmed cat as he grinds messily against you, “There's kids around you little shit.”

Billy murmured a chuckle against your skin, his tongue tracing against it, a sensation that had the hairs on your arms standing up. “I’ll make it quick,” Now there was something you could count on. 

“I said quit,” you turned abruptly to look at him, brushing yourself off, realising the harsh tone of voice you’d used. He looked pained, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes darting around your face quizzically. 

“You know what,” Billy folded his arms, looking you up and down bitterly, “Im tired of you being a fuckin’ prude the whole time,” His voice was raised, whiny, trying to sound like his father. 

You scoffed, putting your head in your hands and shaking your head in disbelief, this kid was insane. “Its not my duty to fuck you whenever you so wish, christ, you really are an entitled son of a gun,” 

Billy stamped out his cigarette onto the ground, “Nasty bitch,” he shook his head, spitting on the floor, charming. “Don’t know why I even bother.” He marched off, back to his cabin probably, off to write another song about how much he hates women you’d have the pleasure of hearing at his next gig.

The day was dragging, it seemed unceasing, like this spiralling, horny, angry mess that was your body. The forest was quiet again without Billy’s cursing, often you’d hear a distant shout from a kid who’d been caught or a group of them running around, but it was hard to differentiate from a bird call, or the wind in the trees.

“Trouble in paradise.” Great. 

“Look, I am not in the mood, so be a sweetie and kindly fuck the fuck off.” 

That earnt an impressed chuckle from behind you, another pair of broad shoulders leaning beside you on the tree. “S’ my darn woods, ‘do whatever the hell i like, thank you missy,”

“Joel I'm serious, whatever witty little jabs you're cooking up, save them for another day,” You looked to him, it was hard to look away whenever you did. 

“Wasn’t,” He shrugged, there was that gruff, southern nonchalance yet again, christ how it got to you, the complete opposite of Billy’s incessant bitching. You almost wished he cared enough to go off on you the way Billy tried to. 

“Well…” you paused, eyes darting over his face, the strong profile, low set brows, those pouty lips you’d gotten pretty damn used to this week. “Dont,” you concluded.

“You really do have a bee in your bonnet don't you, kiddo,” there it was, just as you’d predicted, calm and collected and making you want to blow his brains out.

You shrugged. “Its Billy,” You shook your head, well that was only one of the bees in your very buzzy bonnet, Joels fucking face was the other. “You heard?” 

He nodded, “I heard enough,” you both stood in the ambience of the evening, kids whooping, birds sounding from the trees. “Billy’s a dick you know that, ‘don’t know a single fucker from here to Timbuktu that dont know that,”  

You couldn't help but chuckle, relaxing further against the tree, your shoulders untensing for the first time in weeks, forgetting who the enemy was. “You know fuckers in Timbuktu?” 

“I bet I do,” he nodded, crossing his arms against his broad chest, the camp staff t-shirt barely accommodating his largeness. 

Joel sighed, looking over at you, “got one of them cancer sticks you're always suckin’ on?” you had a whole pack of them in your back pocket. 

He thanked you and lit one with the janky lighter you'd stolen from Abel, smoke muddying your view of him. There was a lull. “I don't know why you lead that bastard on,” he said through the smoke. 

“Im hardly leading him on,” You scoffed, lighting a cigarette for yourself. “He was the one who wanted to keep this to strictly fuck-buddies,” Lucky for you, imagine being Billies girlfriend, jeepers.

“Sounds like you can’t even do that?” he smirked, and there he was again. 

“You know, as I find myself repeating these days, s’really none of your business,” you laughed, turning to him, sighing through the familiar heat in your abdomen, the butterflies that felt more like horse flies in your stomach back and buzzing harder than ever. 

“You're makin’ it my business, havin’ your lover's spat in my earshot.” he retaliated calmly.

you opened your mouth to bite back with something that attempted to match his condescension, but that was an impossible task. “You know what,” you settled on, again grasping for something to finish that sentence. “Fuck,” again you were gotten the better of.

“I’m stuck with him for the next three weeks, so, gotta keep sweet for that long I guess, maybe put out a couple times.” 

He nodded, stamping out his cigarette next to billies, “S’a damn shame,” The eye contact felt like glass in your eyes, felt a big hand twisting your throat till it turned blue, it was those eyes of his in that permanent, laboured squint which you assumed came with age, they killed you. A damn shame. The words played on repeat like a song on Sharon's broken radio, the static soiling his voice in your mind. A damn shame. He was right, it was a damn shame. 

“Would you make sure to deal with those kayaks tomorrow morning���, lifeguard? Just gotta pile em’ up in the shed,” He said over his shoulder as he turned to saunter away. 

Before you could get your bearings, you were alone again, admittedly less grateful for it too. 

Morning, kayaks, shed. Sounded like a relatively agreeable task that wasn't asking too much right? Wrong. You were lucky your body had gotten into the rhythm of waking up at sunrise cause this was a goliath task. Hauling 15 kayaks from one side of the lake to the other wasn't something you’d factored into your morning of rest and relaxation. You’d planned to take a secret dip, maybe grab a coffee, take a shower if you had time. But no, you were out sweating under the morning sun, huffing like a workhorse.

When the last kayak was hauled into the dirty little shed you reclined on the desk, all dusty and grotty but it didn’t even matter. Heck, you weren't even perturbed by the smug house spider that was perched close to your palm, not even giving a second thought to the porn magazine discarded beside your head. All you could think about was how this wasn't what you’d bargained for when you agreed to go on this little jaunt up to the northwest, oh yeah, and how much you hated Joel Miller. 

After a couple of minutes of huffing and puffing, grumbling to yourself about how you were meant to be in LA by now, living a rich and famous life as some kind of starlet, a model, an actress maybe. The shed was a mess, every surface littered with junk. There was fishing equipment, books, more beer cans than you could count, the whole thing screamed Joel. 

Soon, without even meaning to, your nimble fingers were straightening objects, tossing the cans into the bin, dusting, flicking through boxes, you even took the spider outside. 

“Hey,” You heard a jumpy voice from behind you, clearly receiving the same fright you’d got from the sound of his voice. “What are you-” It was Joel, an accusatory expression all over his knitted brow. He saw the small desk bin behind your back, the cans in it, he saw the neat shelves and dusted desk with all his papers stacked orderly. 

“Hey hey hey, I have a system..” Joel bolted over to where you stood, snatching the bin out of your hands, his knuckles grazing yours, you were in deep if such a small gesture made your heart drop so far down. “There's a system,” he repeated, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on his uncluttered desk, looking… pained, addled by the whole thing. 

You scoffed, enjoying seeing Joel off guard, it was always you getting snuck up on, getting caught in a vulnerable situation. “Is the system complete chaos, cause wow Joel, im impressed,” you put your hands on your hips, your little red shorts riding dangerously high. 

“No one asked you to go messing in my affairs,” he tutted, rubbing his brow, god he was a drama queen. 

“Your affairs?” you laughed maniacally, “By your affairs do you mean a few dozen beer bottles, some dusty kayaks and your crusty spank bank mag?” 

He scoffed, looking down at the magazine down on the desk. He'd been got, he’d give you that. “Just clear off, don’t need your bitchin,” He turned his back on you, tampering with your neat new order on his desk, “too damn early,”

You were furious, not even a thank you? If not for drastically improving his workspace, at least for stacking the kayaks, a lot of work if you did say so yourself. “Are you kidding,” you whined, walking up to stand behind him, trying to get his attention. 

“I’ve been doing hard fucking labour, sleepy head, what were you doing? Jerking it into a porn mag I'm guessing?” he chuckled at this, turning over his shoulder to look at your exasperated expression. “Hard labour?” he murmured, audibly amused by your claim.

“Oh you poor thing,” he mocked, turning round fully to look at you, “Doll, you ain’t done a day of hard labour in your pretty little life.” He smirked wildly.

“You don’t know a thing about my life Miller,” you said, sounding like some cheesy cowboy movie, his accent rubbing off on her a little. This caused a full belly laugh to erupt from him, it caught you off guard.

“Your life ain't nothin’ but sunshine and rainbows, sugar, maybe a day’a ‘hard labour’ would do you some good.” He chuckled, walking across the room and correcting the ‘mess’ you made of his ‘system’. “Fuck you,” you bellowed, crossing your arms, your eyes wide and full of fury as you watched him in all his casual, condescending glory. 

“You are maybe the most infuriating motherfuck on this damn earth,” you said through your teeth, so mad, so hot, so done with it all. He just chuckled again, raising his eyebrows, you were starting to just want his attention, wanting him to reciprocate your anger, not caring how you got there. 

“And by the way, I don't care how you see it, I've been up all morning slaving away at something I am certainly not paid for and I don't even get a thank you?” You blurted out, the words falling out of you, you convinced yourself you felt sweat actually drip from your chin. 

He turned to you, annoyingly amused, but there was something else, an underlying rage that really disrupted the usual sedate presence he provided. “Thank you?” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow. 

You paused, never had you ever felt so damn angry at a man. “Listen up-” you began with a huff before being interrupted by Joel stalking over to you with a hostile smirk on his face. Towering over you even though you were a similar height, you backed up against his desk very slightly, trying to keep your chin raised cockily. 

“Are you always this fuckin’ cranky?” he shook his head in amused disbelief and let out an exasperated scoff at the stuttering look on your face. 

You could feel your heart beating like that of a hamster, hammering against your chest. He was so close you could smell him, old spice deodorant, campfires, the slightest tang of sweat and lake water, also the musty dust smell of the shack, you thought you might faint like some Victorian chick. 

He was close, too close for comfort, his muscular frame, the threat of a non-sedate Joel wasn't something that settled you. You gazed into those eyes of his, narrow and all-seeing under a thick, heavy brow. “How’re we gonna cheer you up, huh kiddo?” He raised his eyebrows in mock concern, your mouth was left agape, eyes so wide they might pop. Joel was closer now, looking down at her very slightly, his breath fanned over her face. Holy fuck.

“Can’t have you all bitchy after doin’ me one little task, now can we?” He said after a beat, placing his hand on your jaw, wiping away a caked bit of dirt, probably from all that ‘hard labour,’ his big thumb moved from your jaw to swipe across your lips softly, gently feeling the plush, pillowy skin, freshly chapstick-ed from the Carmex in your pocket. “Can we, sugar?” he repeated the rhetorical question down at you. She shook her head lightly, the obedience hitting her like a 10 foot wave. 

“That's better, that's it, that's better,” He said softly, like he was talking to a jumpy animal. “Not so hard being a nice girl is it now? Not so bad?” he cocked his head and raised her brow, she shook her head absentmindedly once more, completely entranced by whatever was happening to her right here against Joel's desk. 

He nodded, his hand darting between your teeth, his other fingers holding your jaw still underneath. The other hand rested precariously on your thigh, leaning closer so you were sat up on the desk, right beside the dirty mag. 

He let his hand trace drowsy circled under the hem of your shorts, his eyes following, “Think you're cute?” he smirked, his eyes told a different story, taunting, stormy. “walkin' round in those little damn shorts, all prissy, like you own the place?” He said darkly, almost to yourself, holding your eyes with his, his thumb swiping between your teeth, pressing the pad against your tongue. “Suck,” You did it straight away, hollowing your cheeks out and letting whatever this was happen.

You convinced yourself it was some kind of gross fever dream, being out in the heat for the last few days had given you hallucinations, but it felt real, the taste was real on your tongue, his taste. you lapped it up like medicine. 

He clenched his jaw and gazed at your lips wrapping around his thick thumb, fuck. His fingers grazed the seam of your bikini bottoms under your shorts, he could already feel how warm you were down there, how much this was getting to you. He held eye contact with you as he pulled your shorts off, motioning for you to lift your ass, you were feeling compliant, a rare feeling. 

Your bikini bottoms followed, leaving you bare on the desk, the lifeguard top riding up your midriff revealing your glistening (very 70s (interpret that however you like)) cunt to the daylight that streamed in through the open door - a risk Joel seemed to be taking, or something he probably hadn't even considered. 

He rolled his neck, his hands on his hips, he seemed to be considering his options, weighing up the consequences. You pushed your knees together, hoping for a little modesty, the answer was no as Joel's big hands reached down and parted your legs once again. 

“Ah, ah, baby,” he smirked wildly, truly a man starved. He reached down and dragged his finger between your folds, holding the wet digit to the light. It was all achingly slow, he sucked his finger clean, his eyes on yours as he tasted you, letting out a gruff, guttural groan. 

“This gonna keep you sweet?” he said with an icy smirk, her skin was like a furnace; a sweaty, wet, flustered, confused puddle on this desk, dripping everywhere. “Keep you outta my way for a couple days maybe, kiddo?” He chuckled, looking at her domineeringly. “How’s that sound?” 

You nodded eagerly, your expression desperate, whiny, you needed this bad. “When you touch yourself, whadd’ya think 'bout?” he taunted, leaning a hand either side of your hips on the desk, “You,” you gave in, it was just too easy when he talked to you like that. 

“Show me,” He smirked, his words almost a growl, you raised your eyebrows. “Your a pretty little idiot aren'cha?” Now he was just being mean. “Touch yourself the way you do when you're in your cabin, up in your bunk, squirmin’ around,” 

It was so easy, to let him order you around, to succumb to it. The heat, all the bantering, it had melted you into putty in his hands, it’d get to anyone. So there you were, on Joel Miller's desk, bare on the bottom half, your hand drawing tight circles around your aching clit. 

“Fuck,” you bit down on your lip, it was all overwhelming, the feeling of an orgasm coiling around your spine, the blistering, green-house-type heat that had you all rosy and sweaty, the fact that Joel was stood right there, crossing his arms, watching you like a hawk. You knew he’d be a voyeur. 

You watched as his wire snapped and he’d had enough of just watching, adjusting the tent in his shorts. He knelt down in front of you, his eyes looking bigger than usual from this angle, wilder almost feral. he pulled at your hips violently, hoisting you around so your back was flat against the desk, your head leant up against the wall so you could watch exactly what he was going to do to you. 

His mouth was hot against you, licking a stripe up your seam. You could’ve sworn you heard him moan at the taste, felt the vibrations against your core. “This cunt is wasted on Keenan,” He chuckled, not even pulling away from you to lay his jab at Billy, he never could resist the chance. 

You moaned loudly, your hair flying into his hair, feeling the chocolatey, salt and pepper ends in your fingers and you pulled hard, close now. “Don’t fucking stop,” you whimpered, grinding your hips against his face, nose deep in your pussy. 

“Fuck, does he kiss it this good, doll?” He murmured, the vibrations of his baritone drawl against your aching clit were enough to make you toss your head back in sheer ecstasy, that coil winding uncomfortably tight, threatening to snap. 

“He doesn't.” you chuckled through moans, Billy had never ever eaten you out, no matter how many killer blowies you’d served to him on a silver platter. This seemed to appal Joel, who only licked deeper, slower against you, it was agonisingly good, toe curling. He scoffed down there, his thick index finger working at your hole now, dipping in easily despite how tight you were.

 “Poor thing, thas’ why you're so wound up,” He mewled from below, his voice patronising, taunting, but it touched you, “haven’t had someone take care of this pretty cunt in too long hmm? shit, I’d be mean too.” He said with a wet smirk, pulling away to slot another finger in, but you wouldn't give. “Won’t be able to take my cock if you can take two fingers down here,” He chuckled, taunting you further.

“Please don't stop Joel,” you squealed, pulling his hair painfully tight between your fingers, his condescending words only making you hotter, you weren’t usually into that, but shit, Joel could be wearing a fucking tutu and you’d be into it, come to think of it… 

He was grinning smugly as he pushed his fingers into you at a gruelling pace, the desk shook underneath you, your head thrown back against the wall. “Billy hasn't done me any damn favours down here, you're tight as a virgin, baby,” you could see the smirk on his stupid face even with your eyes clenched shut. 

Your release hit harder than it ever had before, your leg shook hard, a string of ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s, laced with a fair pinch of ‘Joel’s and ‘baby’s, blurted out of your lips, you felt your abdomen clench and moaned incoherently, but Joel wasn't quitting, still kitten licking at your inflamed core, fingers curling up and into you, finding a new depth with every push. 

“Joel stop, it-its,” you panted, not even recognising your own voice now, your vision blurred. Overstimulated didn't even sum it up, that shit hurt. 

He didn't care, lost in your taste, lost in the feeling of you clenching around his digits. “Cocky little lifeguard, you're the bane of my life, you know that sweetie?” He said against your wetness, not giving a flying fuck how uncomfortable this was getting, knowing soon you’d ride it into another earth-eating orgasm. 

“Really shouldn't be doin’ this with’ya, Can’t be,” He said over your moans as the discomfort bled into insatiable pleasure, the desk hard against your clammy ass, your release leaking down your thigh and pooling below you. “Holy fuck-” you squealed, your hand on his shoulder to stop yourself from collapsing, the other interwined in his thick hair, that must’ve hurt. 

“How old even are you?” he asked with a mischievous chuckle, pulling his face away and slowing his hand movements, no no no no no. Your brain was fuzzy, all you could process was that Joel had stopped and that felt like death. “20,” She said quickly, needing him to continue. He knew what he was doing, taking a moment to process, watching the way you were squirming, so desperate for him yet again. 

“You're too young for me, kiddo,” He said as he dove back into your crotch, a very contradictory statement when reflected against his actions so far this morning, i know. “I am not,” you bit back through a whimper, pouting, your eyes fluttering shut once again.

 “How old’re you anyways,” you panted, your words all broken and high pitched, too fucked-out to feel humiliated. “76?” You chuckled, feeling your second orgasm of the morning chasing after you. 

He bit down ever so slightly on your clit, causing you to wince and buck your hips, it didn't cause any damage or hurt, just hard enough to shut your bratty ass up. “49, missy,” he replied coldly from below you. “Watch it,” 

“You wanna take my 76 year old cock next? think you can take it?” He smirked, pulling away to focus on his hand movements, in and out, hitting that spongy part of you, deeper than you could ever get. You nodded, words almost escaping you for the first time in your smart-ass life. He chuckled deeply at this, a hearty sound you were starting to crave like a meth-head. “She’s a trooper, ain’t she?” He breathed in your ear, planting a small, firm kiss on your neck, his fingers gaining a bruising pace, loud wails escaping your quivering lips.

“Fuck j-joel,” you stammered, your hot breath fanning against his neck, “want, need your cock,” you were getting needy, washed up by the incoming wave of your orgasm, ready to hit just as hard as before, if that was physically possible. “Don't get greedy now,” He smirked down at you, eyes wild. Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, salty and stinging, your body shaking, giving way to another tortuous release. 

He pulled his hand away and sucked eagerly at his drenched fingers, watching as you came apart on the desk, moaning and whining for him. 

He sat you up, grabbing a coke from his outdoor refrigerator and leaning against it as he opened it, muscles flexing he clicked it open, tossing the bottle opener to the side and handing it to you. You grasped it with clammy palms, your vision slowly coming back, your body still fucked-out and trembling, cock-dumb for a cock you hadn't even had. 

“Welp,” He put his hands on his hips, like some suburban dad done with a barbecue, “that was real nice, weren't it?” He patted you on the shoulder, ignoring the bewildered expression on your face. 

“Duty calls, kids’ll be down here in an hour or so,” he slapped his thighs and raised his eyebrows, it was as if he’d just given you a friendly handshake, not eaten you out and made you cum twice. 

“Aren’t you going to..” you stopped yourself, you’d been awaiting the next round, (even if you weren't sure you could take another round) the one he’d talked about with that same smug look on his face as he finger-fucked you. 

He grinned down at her, ruffling your hair, “another time hey kiddo?” he said kindly, but it was perhaps the furthest thing from kind you’d ever seen. You glared up at him in disbelief, mouth agape, cheeks rosy, skin glassy from tears of pleasure, you didn't even know that was a thing. He patted you on the shoulder, smiling earnestly, that glint of mischief turned to one of absolute cruelty in his eyes. 

“Atta’ girl.” 

And he was gone. Joel was out the door as quickly as he’d entered, leaving you panting, bottomless and flushed and sweaty, your shorts half way across the room, the coke bottle dampening your fingers.

 He’d really done a number on you, gotten you all needy and riled up, then done something to you that no one had ever bothered with. Then he’d just left, like it wasn't the best you’d ever felt, like you hadn't been imagining how many babies you were going to give him, what colour flowers’d be in your bouquet at the wedding.

 It was embarrassing; being humiliated yet a-fucking-gain by a man well over twice your age, legs trembling on the soaked desk, the model on the front of his porno magazine beside you grinning up at you smugly, fucking bitch. 

[mickdalena]

okay brief(ish) post about monkees trans hcs because im procrastinating:

DAVY: obviously a trans man no doubt about it ! possible to say he knew really early and hormone blocked his way out of ever growing boobs but personally i like to pretend he just binds and isn't really shirtless all the time . i think he met the guys when he was already transitioning and stealth but ended up coming out after a while anyway . he told peter first and then micky and then mike , and he was most stressed about mike so it took a really long time , but ofc mike loves him no matter what ! davy gets a lot of dysphoria because he is so young and it feels like the T takes forever but they are all so supportive and always try to reaffirm him in little ways, especially peter

MIKE: a girl! forever and always <3 technically genderfluid in my mind and I don't think she's that bothered about pronouns (prefers she/her but whatever) and also she still goes by just mike. i think it took her a REALLY long time to realize and accept she was trans after she learned what it was from davy, and it made her start to lash out because she couldnt wrap her head around it for ages. once shes out she's not fussed about presenting particularly fem most of the time, she keeps her hair (and sideburns) mostly the same, but she does go on estrogen. she wears really long skirts and button ups, she does her hair all nice and micky puts makeup on her sometimes 🥹 she doesn't come out to people outside of the pad for conveniences sake but peter is not very good at switching between pronouns so he accidentally says she or her sometimes, leading to a very elaborate story about a distant cousin peter supposedly speaks of out of the blue. i have so much more to say but that is the gist , oh girlmike how i love you

PETER: honestly anything ! im quite fond of transmasc peter but he's definitely fluid in some way, transmasc or transfem, everything works. peters never really understood gender anyway (autistic) so he easily accepts davy and mike no questions asked , and again he is sometimes such a good ally he gets them in trouble. peter is a pioneer for genderaffirming thrift store finds , he loves to make jewellery for mike after she comes out, and he is the one who made davy's binder! it took a lot of checking and re-checking and it's still much looser than it could be because peter refuses to risk anything but it gets the job done . ough love him

MICKY: another wildcard. personally i think micky is bigender more than fluid (he/she pronouns) but rly he does not care, he's never understood gender either (ADHD) and so he just does what he likes and has a good time. after davy came out to mike micky felt way more safe and confident in trying more gnc clothes and it's why she stopped straightening her hair and got the tablecloth and etc. micky also LOVES makeup and face painting and for a while was trying to make her own products until there was a particularly colourful explosion that got her banned from anything but store-bought. micky switches mike's pronouns about the most because he is literally genderblind and davy finds it very funny whenever he'll change his mind mid-sentence, but it leads to a lot of confusion for everyone else . oh also micky transfem or transmasc both are real and true

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

you ain't woman enough

☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆

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Summary : some crazy diehard fan claims to steal your man, of course- you won't let that happen

Word Count : not too long, I hope

Warnings : 18+ Rockstar!Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, language, reader and Eddie are both (25) also they're MARRIED to each other, no use of y/n, Gareth is (18), Jeff is (20) mentions of a fan having self-harm history, the lunatic fan (I named her Delancy, she's 18) can be very invasive, disrespectful, delusional and too obsessed with Eddie, alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy at the end, I think that's just it tho

What to Expect : angst and fluff teehee

Note To Reader : guys, you're not going to believe this because my fever just bounced back again making me suffer once more 💀 (but I'm good right now don't worry)

Author Note : LOVE LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH- OF COURSE YOU KNOW I'VE HAD TO MAKE A FIC WITH IT ;)) (idk if I feel satisfied about this fic but here it goes)

You and Eddie have been together for ages

A bit dramatic, isn't it?

But no, seriously, it's like you spend a lifetime every minute, hour and seconds being with him

Since high school, Eddie thought it's cruel joke when you talked to him for the first time

He had a bit of time to grow on you back then, but when you finally get to know him when he unsheds his layers of showing the tough act to people at school

He is actually very sweet

That's where it all took off

You're always been there

The Hellfire Club campaigns, The Hideout sessions, the best part is that you we're also there when he got his long-awaited diploma

Wayne loves you, gosh, Eddie can still vividly remember the teasing moments that make him so freaking embarrassed when it revealed that Eddie has a crush on you

It's the most silliest confession that you both shared to each other, giggling at the same time

It's also wholesome in a way that you feel like yourself when you're with him than you're own

That's says something

You watch him grew to become one of the highest paid rock bands all of time, Corroded Coffin

Back in graduation in college, he said that he'll marry you and you'll be on his side while he's touring around the world

The words you told him never left his mind

"Always keep your dreams alive, Ed's"

You both love metal music, films, obviously certified nerds, always excited when you're both talking about your favorites

I mean- what's not to love?

"You're ready? sweetheart?"

"Yeah"

You gave him 360° turn to your full ensemble for the tonight's show

Oh, he was stunned at it, he takes a minute to process

"Well?"

"You look fantastic- I mean- hot, super super hot"

You snort "Okay, let's go rockstar"

You've prepared yourself for this since the beginning, the moment that Eddie got himself big time at a record label

You know what you're in for

You're ready to face it all, the tabloids, loads of paparazzi everywhere, awestruck fans that recognize the both of you walking in the streets of L.A

You also know once you entered this business, there's no longer privacy that you knew before

The fandom that Eddie has is like a freaking movement almost like an activist, every false lies, rumors, gossips, they defend him with his bandmates

You adore them, really, grateful for it

The head of the official fanbase of Corroded Coffin is really nice and respects everyone of you, even treat you like normal human beings

They organized parties when it's time for an occasion like Corroded Coffin won a Grammy, New Year's, when someone in the band has a birthday, it's really great

Sometimes, you wish every fan is just like that, or sometimes even not a fan, you wished they'll treat you kindly

While eating lunch with Eddie at a local diner downtown

"You know, there's a young girl keeps looking at our spot for like 30 mins now" Eddie is wearing Ray-Ban black sunglasses as he quietly speaks as he takes a sip of his coffee

You had a mouth full of philly cheesesteak as you turned around to find what your husband is referring to

There, you spot her, when you catch her eyes, she simply look away shyly

You hum as you shrug "It looks like she wants to say something"

"Oh, boy, here she comes"

Before you can react to what he just said, she's now standing to where you both seated but she gave a distance for personal space that leaves an impression to the both of you

Eddie caught a glimpse of the young girl's wrist with marks of healed pocks, you saw it too, he watches her intently but when he saw how genuine her eyes are, he knows this isn't some weird fanatic

You cleared your throat as you smile at the young girl

"Uh- hi, I'm so very sorry, if I made you both uncomfortable but I- I just want to express my gratitude, your songs really helped me a lot and ever since I stopped doing it for 5 years already and I feel a whole lot better and uh- your love story has always been my favorite- it's very inspiring and I've always been looking up to the both of you and uh- yeah thanks for everything" she leaves at that

the young girl went on and on with her slightly ducked down too shy to even look at the both of your eyes

"That's really sweet" you say with twinkling eyes as you kept your eyes on the young girl

"Wow, see- this is why I'm doing this! I will keep on making music when something like that happens! I can help people!" He beams exhilaratingly with a smile

"Eddie, haven't you realized you've been doing this since highschool?" You hold his hand across the table

"Yes, I know and I will do what I do best" he winks and you by that look

You know he's gonna make this interaction memorable

"Hey, kid"

The young girl almost can't believe the Eddie Munson called her out

"We appreciate you so much" he says as he picked the whole new latest album from his bag

Young girl is appalled, felt weak on the knees almost, you giggled at her reaction

To make everything go insane, he even signed the album cover

You hand it out to her "We're so proud of you"

She takes it with shaky hands as she laughs "I-I'm sorry, I'm freaking out inside, thank you so very much"

"You'll be the first person to hear it"

"I'll listen to it once I get home, I will never forget this day in my life!"

You and Eddie both chuckled "Treasure it, sweetie! You deserve it!"

"I love you both so much, you have absolutely no idea! um- I'll be attending your show this coming Saturday" you shyly added with a grin

You squealed as you look at Eddie with excitement, he took his glasses off

"That's very metal, dear" he makes a rock n roll sign as the kid does the same time, both shared laughs

You watched the kid happily as she runs over to her parents with the album in hand as they become starstrucked when they saw both of you, waving at their daughter

You sigh in content "Isn't that just awesome?!?" You slam your hands on the table feeling giddy

Eddie throws his head back in laughter as his mind replays the endearing interaction earlier

"My manager is going to kill me after this"

"Oh, yeah right- you weren't supposed to reveal your latest album yet"

"I doubt it she'll not spread it to everyone"

"I'll drink to that"

Turns out, both of your guts we're right, the young girl didn't leaked the whole ass album for the whole world to hear

The tour was going fantastic, the crowd roars, screams, cheers everyone is going nuts once the band came out the stage

The after-party is your favorite part when the set is done, it's just you, Eddie, Jeff and Gareth hanging out

It's like old times, the difference is that all of you are a part of public figures now

But, no, never once or anyone of you let that get into your head, you don't want to believe or let yourself be aware of that "I'm a celebrity and you're nothing" type of shit, all of you remained humble since day one

No wonder why people adored you so much

Jeff finished his degree last year, now he's got himself a babe beside him, Gareth only have 2 years left at his college

He is so sick of it already, but he won't stop until he finally graduated

"Now, I get it why- Eddie feels so fucking drained after college" Gareth groans as he sats down next to you

"But my tutoring while on the tour bus helped, right?" You gave him an sympathetic smile

He smiles tiredly "Yeah, I'm just so exhausted but I'm almost there"

"That's the spirit!"

"Man, I don't know how you do it, are you getting enough sleep?" Jeff chimes in as he drinks his beer as he awaits for his friend to answer

"I don't even remember when's the last time I got a good night's sleep"

"Your time has run out" a voice rudely interrupted your conversation

You, Jeff, Gareth turn around at the girl who is standing closer to you

Jeff and Gareth shared confusion looks to each other

"Excuse me?" You say as look at her directly

"I said he's done with you"

"Who?"

"Eddie"

Jeff makes a face and Gareth is unamused, offended by it

You tried your best to be polite as you wave your hand in front of her dismissively, maybe it's just some girl who mistakenly thought you're someone that she knew

"He doesn't love you anymore"

Who is this person? You think to yourself

You laugh incredulously as you lean forward, Jeff and Gareth looked at you and thinks why you're aren't doing anything to be mean just for once

They're watching the nicest argument ever

"You have to let him go" she says as she crossed both of her arms

"Why would I do that?"

"So, I can take him"

You, Jeff and Gareth looked at each other with knowing looks as you tried to keep your composure stable

The bartender is clearly knows what the fuck is going on and couldn't help but to bite back a laughter as well

"Ooh- okay, hot shot- gimme a sec" you say with a mockery on your voice as you bit your lip to stop bursting to any second

You kick Jeff and elbowed Gareth to stop them from snickering

"Hey, Francis" you paid for the tabs, you treat the guys for the drink tonight

"You didn't have to-"

"I insist, you always gave me fine drinks and you never let me pay? Come on- take it"

The older man smiles and sighs and muttered a small thank you

All of you go down to your rotating circle chairs, but before you left her, you twirl around with a teasing smile

She became annoyed at you, you didn't even know what the hell she's annoyed at you for

"Sorry to burst your bubble, you can't do that"

"What makes you think that I can't?" She snaps and it makes you amused

Jeff and Gareth make a teasing "Oooh's" as you flipped the guys off behind your back

"Because-" you looked at her from top to bottom

She really wasted her beauty for pulling a stunt like this?

"You aren't there yet"

You know, she ain't gonna understand that phrase because she's young, you didn't even bother to explain what it means so you turn heel and left her at it

You wiggle your fingers at her as you wave goodbye and she watches the three you finally booming the streets with the loud cackles

At the backstage, 10 mins left before the show starts

"Eddie! Stand still!" You say as you fix his outfit

"I've been performing for years and I still get nervous" he says with a unsure smile

"That's totally normal, Eddie, once you get out of there and feel all of the people energy and literally once you start singing? You'd be great like you always do" you say as you finish doing touch ups to his look

He didn't replied, he instead hugged you

"Oh" you got startled at his sudden action but you melt with it

"Thank you, sweetheart"

"Anytime, Ed's"

A frequent knock is going on the door, almost breaking it, he swung it open- he got cutt off by someone

"Alright, alright! I'll be there-"

"Where have you been?!? I've looked for you everywhere!"

"What-"

"Didn't you missed me?!?"

You lean onto your side of the doorframe with arms crossed as Eddie looked at you for help almost like he's saying "Do you have any idea who is this person?!?"

The young lady who you encountered last night meet your eyes, you swore you saw the fire ignited once you came into the frame

"What is she doing here?!?"

Eddie is so perplexed as he continues to look at the random girl and you just smirk to yourself

She reached for Eddie's hand as he became so stunned at her action and you raised both of your eyebrows at her boldness

The audacity of this person is wild

"Honey? Care to explain, please?" Eddie is obviously trying to let go of the grip that she's holding onto him

"Oh, I just met her last night and how rude of me not knowing your name- if you even had one" you sarcastically speak up, it's very comedic to watch her face crumpled up to your smugness

"It's Delancy"

"Yeah, right- Delancy!" You act like it was the most interesting information ever

Eddie is watching you with a wolfish grin, he finally understood it

"I'm here to support my boyfriend" she lOviNgLy looks up at Eddie, the situation doesn't even get worse from there as he looks at you through his bangs as he purses his lips together

"Sweetie, before you can get to him, I'll have to move over and I'm gonna stand right here"

"You can't!"

"It will be over my dead body"

Eddie finally got away from the hold as he looks at her with fake sympathetic smile with a pout as he throws both of his hands in defense

You glanced at the corner and saw the security guards probably looking for her

You lean closer as you say "So, get out while you can" you nudge your chin towards the guards and she panic as she runs away

"Oh my fucking god" Jeff jogs as he tries to catch up his breath

"Give me a minute" Gareth holds up a finger as he pants

"So, she's the girl that you little shitheads talking about, huh?"

Both of the young men nod as they chuckled slightly

"Can't believe she got herself inside" you scoff as you shake your head

"Hmm, maybe there's a way to end this ridiculousness" Eddie smirks as all of you looked at him in confusion

The show is exhilaratingly amazing, Eddie called out for you, is this his plan?

You shyly get up on the stage as the crowd cheers for your name

Once you walked closer to Eddie he pulled you in for a kiss

You're surprised but managed to recover as you wrap your arms around him as you kiss him back

Jeff whistles as Gareth clapped aggressively

The whole crowd screamed harder as Eddie pulled you closer more to him as if that were possible, you became flustered as you break the kiss from running out of breath but Eddie?!? Kept stealing kisses as you giggled

"My beautiful wife everybody!" Eddie announces in the microphone not caring if your lipstick is all over his face

"Thank you guys for the insane night! We love you! We appreciate all of your support! Take care and we'll see you soon! Keep on rockin'!" Eddie left with that as Jeff and Gareth came onto your side as they join you for a bow before all of you waved goodbye and exit the stage

The interview is happening in the morning after the last night's show

"Have you heard about the rumor? There's basically a young girl claiming your husband, Eddie, to be as her boyfriend? What is your comment about this?"

Gareth chimes in with a smirk on his face as he leans over to steal a moment in the camera "No comment" he says as Eddie, Jeff snickered as you chuckled as well

"Yeah, I did, I even interacted with her- she seems....interesting"

"Interesting for a therapy" Jeff adds as the three man crack up to his joke

"She even said that Eddie looked at her at the concert last evening" the interviewer spoke up as you can watch Eddie genuinely reacted to this

"Oh my god" Eddie rubs his face as he hides his face buried on his palms as he tries not to laugh

"Well, a man looks at things sometimes that he doesn't need, I think she's referring to what happened at the backstage-"

"I took a second look-" Eddie narrows his eyes at you

"But he's in love with me" you point to yourself ignoring your cheeks blush

"Exactly" Eddie grins as you held his hand

"She even said that the kiss that happened was a fake"

"I don't know where that leaves her" you shrug at the interviewer

"You know where you stand"

You chortled at the interviewer's remark, knowing that this will even more pissed her off

"Precisely, I know where I stand" you agree as you nod

"And there you have it, folks, The Corroded Coffin, it's such a delight to finally to get to talk to you all and the man of the hour, Eddie Munson with his wife, Jeff and Gareth the icons behind the band, Thank you for tuning in!" The interviewer wraps it all up

"Please, do invite your fans to come on over to your tours"

"it's our pleasure, to share our music around the world and all we wanna do is just inspire people" Eddie smiles at the camera while he always pulled you into his side, you love that he never fails to show you off

As the airing ends, Eddie whispers to your ear

"Let's make her even more furious" Eddie bites his lips as he could think for a conniving idea

You snorted at him with a playful smile

"Telling to everyone that you're having a baby" he winks

"Eddie!" You push him playfully on the chest but he laughs as he carries you and spins around at the studio

But he ain't wrong with that, you'll even consider it later ;))

[moonblossom7]

(Aged up) Percabeth as your parents headcanons

Genre:fluff/comfort

-reader is adopted

-gender neutral reader

A/N: this is rlly kinda stupid but it's cute I think.

🍼 Toddler years(~1-4)

- Percy is great with kids, obviously, but he's rlly worried that you'd get into something while his back was turned so he's CONSTANTLY watching you. Can't get away with anything.

-stay at home dad Percy is so real, actually

- Annabeth likes reading you bedtime stories, even though she struggles with it

- they're both of the opinion that Disney has gone down hill, but they take you to the cinema every time a new movie comes out.

- Annabeth gets stressed out a lot about whether or not they make you feel like you belong, since she knows how much it sucks to feel alone within your own family, and she thinks it's gotta be even worse since you're adopted (that worry never really went away)

-  Percy made "monster spray" for when you're scared of the dark.

🖍️ Little kid (5-8)

- Annabeth takes you on museum trips a lot. It's important for kids to experience things, and of course she has to pick something the both of you like

- Percy cried like an actual baby when you lost your first tooth. He didn't expect something like that to effect him, but how could it not? You're growing up and it's happening a lot faster than he thought it would.

- loyal customers at your imaginary restaurant. (Yk those play kitchens with the plastic food? Those.)

- very emotional about the little art projects you bring home from school. They can rarely bring themselves to throw any away,so they have a little tote to keep them in when the fridge gets too crowded.

-speaking of school, you are very much THAT kid. The one with the character pen cases and the sparkly folders and notebooks with that Lisa Frank dolphin on them. (I WANTED ONE SO BAD!!) Percy and Annabeth decided you could only have the absolute best stuff.

- around this time they explain the whole gods, monsters, demigods thing. You had already met Grover and Tyson and some of your parents' demigod friends,so you knew some of it, but up till now they'd never fully explained.

🎮big kid (9-12)

-at this point, Percy is officially banned from helping you with homework. He's one of those "math is math, that's still the right answer!" dads, so when you got to the age where you had to learn and use different methods he noped out. Annabeth takes over from that point.

- if you get into sports, obviously they're your biggest fans. They show up to every game, they give your friends a ride home from practice, they probably wear those cringey T-shirts with shit like "soccer mom/dad" printed across the front in mismatched fonts. Percy's probably even an assistant coach. (Bonus for my softball girlies: Annabeth is totally the type to give you cool braids with the team colors weaved in)

- Again Percy cried over you loosing teeth. But this is your last baby tooth! You aren't little at all anymore! (It's even worse for him if you don't believe in the tooth fairy anymore by then)

- alas,the time has come. The last Christmas you believe in Santa. You told them they didn't have to put the elf up that year, that's how they found out. It caught Annabeth totally off guard. She'd tried to be very sneaky and very clever about maintaining the Christmas magic.

- you're having a Minecraft phase rn(everyone does at this point, don't fight it) and Annabeth is THRILLED. she doesn't play many video games, but she does like Minecraft and Animal Crossing,so she was so excited to have that in common with you. She gets especially excited about all the houses you build even though they're really basic at first.

📱Teen (13-19)

-went very all out on your 13th,16th, and 18th birthday. So much food, and confetti and probably invited all of their friends on top of everyone you invited. (For my summer birthday friends: paid for you and your friends to go to the water park for at least one of those,on top of everything else they had planned)

- very chill about your first partner, actually. I know that a lot of parents aren't, but I honestly don't see Percy and Annabeth being the track your phone and shotgun prom pictures type. As long as your partner was respectful and treated you well, they had no reason to be upset.

-coming back to the sports thing, Percy would be upset if you got to be embarrassed by them going to your games and stuff now. It happens for some kids, obviously (and him and Annabeth have gotten a lot more excited and a little obnoxious about everything the better you got), but he'd be upset that he's not cool anymore.

- proms and homecoming dances are such a big deal. They never really went to any school dances, unless you count when they were trying to find Nico and Bianca, so they're super interested in yours. They want you to have a good time, but they definitely might be projecting a little bit.

- On that note, for my long haired friends, Annabeth totally does your hair for you for those events. I personally think most Athena kids are good at doing hair, since weaving is part of Athena's whole thing and like doing complex hairstyles definitely requires that, and  Annabeth would really enjoy that bonding experience.

- Percy originally wanted to be the one to teach you to drive, but you scared him so many times that he couldn't be alone in a car with you for a long time. Everyone makes mistakes while they're learning, and he's usually a brave guy, but it's a million times scarier now that it's you. Maybe he's just worried about you getting hurt.  Maybe he doesn't want to have to pay for any repairs. Could be both.

- your graduation was so emotionally devastating for them. Gods, they're just so damn proud of you. Highschool isn't as easy as some people make it seem,and even if it was, it's still such a big deal. And it was also so bittersweet because you really aren't a kid  anymore, and they're so excited for you to experience the adult world, but they also miss their little baby.

-also,if you go to a school that lets you decorate your cap,I just know they'd want to help. Obviously they'd follow whatever your idea was but I could see y'all being an arts and crafts family, y'know?

- I don't wanna say that Annabeth has earned a reputation that could get you into any colleges without much effort because I don't think she'd let you get away with not trying, but like...if she wasn't like that, you could.

-also, they'd be really chill if you didn't want to go to college,as long as you were doing something safe and that makes you happy. They know that extra school isn't for everyone and they also know there's a lot of jobs that don't need any degree that can make more money than jobs that do (not that money's all that matters, but it's a good motivator.)

A/N(number 2):Lord I love thinking about Percy and Annabeth getting to have a nice normal-ish life. Let me know if u guys have any specific scenarios you wanna see with parental Percabeth,I get such a hit of nostalgia and happiness from this dynamic

[belltrigger]

Submastober Day 20!

Inspiration: There's an older OC-tober prompt-list here that I am using.

Title: He Knows, Okay? Prompt: Death Word count: 707 Synopsis: Emmet has a young sounding speech pattern, but ever since Ingo disappeared, people have started treating him like he's too young to understand things.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

It wasn't as though Emmet didn't know that death was A Thing.

For one thing, Emmet was nearly thirty years old. He wasn't sure how anyone thought he'd gotten to that age without becoming aware of what death was. It was in movies, tv shows, and books. Sure, he liked to read about trains, schematics and history, but even trains could be deadly if not properly maintained. (Not that he would ever let something like that happen in the Subway.) Even romance stories sometimes had death in them. People had to believe he had no interest in popular culture to make it to this age without at least a passing awareness.

For another thing, Ingo had a ghost pokémon as a partner. Obviously, ghosts couldn't exist without death, right? Even Ingo, who loved Chandelure greatly, always warned about how dangerous she could be. If not watched carefully, all of Chandelure's evolution line was capable of stealing life force. Litwick had been particularly naughty when they were kids, and Emmet had more than once found Ingo groggy after letting Litwick misbehave and eat some of his life energy. Well, Ingo called it groggy, Emmet called it passed out.

Even with Ingo's too permissive behavior of Litwick when they were younger, Ingo never came close to dying. Emmet was always able to find him before Litwick snacked too much, and Emmet had more than once scolded her over getting carried away. Once, she had flared her wick at him; by the time Ingo woke up, they were deep in an argument over how Ingo wasn't allowed to be eaten.

Yes, Emmet knew what death was. But just because he knew didn't mean he could accept that as a descriptor for his beloved twin.

Despite explaining this to people, they still continued to insist that Ingo being missing for this long surely meant the worst. The word 'dead' never came up directly; it was always skirted around, people used euphemisms because they were too uncomfortable to say what they were thinking. Emmet was always polite but firm when he countered people who insisted Ingo was dead. He did say the word - if they were going to assume his brother, the other half of his two car train, was such a thing, then they best say it outright.

Thinking back on it, maybe Emmet was not polite.

But! What else was he supposed to do when people insisted that he give up the search for his brother, when they wanted him to believe that Ingo must be dead? For the first time ever in the entirety of his career, Emmet banned someone from the subway for coming to him with the offer of organizing a memorial for Ingo. Although Emmet thought he kept his composure, Cloud asked him if he was okay after the now Perma-Banned-Passenger was escorted out.

Emmet answered as honestly as he could, because he couldn't lie to Cloud. No, he was definitely not okay. Ingo was missing and he'd lost any viable leads and now people wouldn't stop telling him Ingo was dead. Even when Emmet said it wasn't true, they kept saying it. It was rude! And frustrating! And-!

Clenching his hands into fists at his sides, Emmet only stopped pouring his heart out when his vision became blurry with tears. Even though Cloud wouldn't think less of him for it, Emmet tugged his cap brim down to cover his eyes. Cloud would understand, but Emmet still wanted to maintain the proper image of a Subway Boss. If nothing else, Ingo would be disappointed in him if he caused too much discomfort for their important guests of the subway.

Cloud and Ramses intercepted anyone who looked as though they were seeking Emmet out for anything other than a pokémon battle. He wasn't in the mood to battle with his thoughts occupied with plans on how to find Ingo, but he went through it anytime someone asked him to. Emmet lost more battles during Ingo's disappearance than he ever had before then. Without Ingo around as his friendly rival, wins and losses didn't feel as important.

Emmet knew what death was. And with Ingo gone, Emmet thought he might know what death felt like, too.

[i-write-hurt-not-comfort]

@yuukanaazu hi there! thank u for your question, i would LOVE to talk about this. i've thought about this so much and i love the who Mukami backstory. i would like to disclaim i'm not a history expert but i've researched this a fuck ton. whilst a lot of the Mukami routes have bits of the Romanian history lore scattered around, the most lore comes from Ruki's MB but especially his LE, so i'm going to be using that as my main source.

putting this under a cut here because it's very long. TW for discussions of the Romanian orphan crisis.

so right off the bat in MB, we see Ruki clearly has this trauma surrounding something which happened in an eastern european nation, as seen in this manga panel when he's sitting in class and the teacher is talking about an outbreak of orphans.

although they don't SAY Romania, it's pretty heavily implied that it's Romania as this was where the infamous orphan crisis occurred and we know the Mukami's met in an orphanage. the REAL confirmation of what actually happened in Romania comes from Ruki's LE.

credit where credit is due, rejet did alright with the Romania lore. in the 1960s, Romania was under a dictatorship by Ceaușescu. Ceaușescu's socialist policies had Romania and its capital Bucharest in declining conditions. wild-spread poverty caused children to run away from home so there were already some children on the streets. Decree 770 was enacted in 1966 which banned abortion and contraception with the hope of population growth directly leading to economic growth.

Ruki's father was supposedly a politician during the time of Decree 770 being enacted. it is implied Karlheinz convinced Ceaușescu to impose Decree 770 to cause wide-spread casualties particularly in children and use these for ghoul experiments. Karlheinz also convinced Ceaușescu to impose higher taxes and embezzle public funds.

it's unclear exactly when Ruki's father was dismissed from his political position, but we see it happen in LE and he becomes an alcoholic. over the next few years, birth rates would increase substantially, especially over 1967, 1968 and 1969 when the policy was still knew. parents who were unable to take care of their children gave them up to orphanages. by 1977, parents were taxed for being childless. potentially this is when Ruki's father dies and they all enter the orphanage.

children ran away from home due to parents being overloaded with children and poverty stricken. by the 1980s, conditions in the orphanages had significantly declined. Ceaușescu was killed in December 1989. supposedly, Kalrheinz was assassinated at the end of the revolution too, and was hung in public, but his corpse disappeared.

conditions in the orphanages were as follows:

Children did not have access to food, water, medicine or basic needs

Many were not educated and were illiterate 

Hygiene was below standard and sexual assault common 

HIV/AIDS spread throughout orphanages particularly in the 1980s 

Military run orphanages often saw violent child abuse 

Children self-harmed and abused aurolac, a type of paint inhaled as a solvent (commonly distributed around Bucharest during this period right through to common times) 

Gangs were formed inside and outside the orphanages which led to further violence

There weren't enough beds 

Some children were sold off as slaves for money or to be abused (Kou is an example of this) 

Disabled children were sent to special places and were treated the worst

the Mukami's lore is mostly implied from theories, and the bullet points i'm about to drop are only my perspective. though it is based off canon events.

here, we are going to assume the timeline matchup or make some kind of sense…

it DOES kind of make sense if you imagine the Mukami's to be born in 1966/67 due to the abortion ban

thus they would be around age 10-11 in 1977 when they all entered the orphanages

obviously the orphanages were overcrowded by this point in time, hence the conditions were so bad 

Azusa was at the orphanage first and when Ruki arrived, he followed him around

Ruki was creeped out at first but eventually came to see Azusa as a younger brother

then Ruki meets Kou when he's in the middle of trying to kill himself and calls him a loser 

Yuma joined the orphanage last, and became friends with everyone after meeting Kou in the punishment cell 

so the order is Azusa, then Ruki, then Kou, and then Yuma 

Ruki

Ruki's father was a politician… until he wasn't

when Decree 770 was enacted, he turned into an alcoholic and began abusing Ruki's mother

it's explained in Ruki's LE Maniac Epilogue and it's a bit vague but I do think the implication is that Ceaușescu imposing higher taxes (potentially the childless tax in 1977) is what caused Ruki's father's dismissal 

this means Ruki was a baby when Decree 770 was first enacted but he was pampered so he didn't know that was going on in the real world 

1977, Ruki's father was fired then committed suicide, his mother had an affair and ran off, and Ruki entered the orphanage

he was beaten up a lot for being an ex-aristocrat 

Kou

Kou was born to an aristocratic family but they were exiled when he was still young 

(i headcanon his parents being from another country, possibly Italy considering his name was Emilio) 

he was off-handed to a nanny but she abandoned him when he was young

she potentially abandoned him due to having to care for too many orphans (early 1970s)

kou spent most his childhood on the streets, at which point he was shown to beg for food and money

he exchanged this (IN CANON!!) for aurolac (which i write about here) 

eventually he was taken into the orphanage, right when some army officers shot some people in front of him 

there he was sold off to aristocrats, aka slavery, and gouged out his eye

continued using aurolac in the orphanage

Yuma

i will assume he ended up in Bucharest around mid-1970s

his farming family in the village which burnt down was poor due to socialist policies and higher taxes 

he was in a gang as the name Bear and was one day thrown into the orphanage when everyone else was shot 

his leader Lucks had been shown to be prostituting himself to get money for the gang

Yuma steals food from the orphanage and got into a lot of fights due to people insulting his gang

Azusa

Azusa was raised by Romani people

it isn't clear whether he was born into a Romani family or whether he was born accidentally and abandoned and then taken in by the Romani people 

i personally headcanons the former 

he was weak compared to everyone and Justin, Melissa and Christina beat him up a lot

one day they were killed for burglary and Azusa cried

then he passed out in front of a shop and was sent to the orphanage 

he enjoys getting beaten up at the orphanage and that's when he meets Ruki 

i am sorry that this is SO LONG. if you made it to the end, thank u and congratulations. i love this lore. if you want it saved somewhere, i have it all here (+ more information).

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Protective bachelors headcanonssssss?

Yeeesssss!

Usually when people ask for "bachelors", I think about like "they are not yet 'Farmer's partner" because they are a 'singles', but I'm always not sure if I'm getting it right. Therefore, I try to find an alternative and write in a way that candidates would behave in both cases. I hope this makes sense.

By the way, I took the word "protective" in different ways. I mean, you can protect them from bullies, from natural disasters, from danger, from themselves if such a case ever occurs. I was interested in experiencing with this writing. Feel free to write criticism and suggest if such a headcanon deviates from the essence of the issue, I'm interested to know your opinion.

Anyway, thank for your ask, anon))))

_________________________________________

Alex:

Alex has been volunteering as a beach lifeguard for years. Given his physical qualities, ability to swim well and basic knowledge of first aid, this role suits him perfectly, so he agreed to volunteer and keep the beach safe every summer.

But it's fall now, too cold for the beach season, so no one needs his skills for now. So Alex thought until the Farmer, fishing on the river bank near Alex's house, fell for some reason directly into the rushing waters. The athlete acted faster than he thought: a jump into the water - and he is already dragging the Farmer to land. Alex carefully examined the Farmer to understand their condition, and when he was convinced that everything was alright with them, he took them home, where Evelyn brought a blanket and a cup of hot tea for the Farmer after a cold bath.

Whether or not the Farmer knew how to swim at the time, Alex now always watches over them when they fish near his house and moves them away from the river to prevent this from happening again.

Elliott:

There was one case when one of the tipsy tourists began to pester the Farmer with an offer to go on a date together. And when the Farmer politely refused the offer, they received threats and promises from the interlocutor to spoil the image of their farm. No one knows how long this clowning would have continued if an enraged Elliott had not approached them.

I can't get the fact out of my head that Elliott will challenge this asshole to a duel like the old fashioned way. It doesn't matter if the Farmer is just a good friend or his partner, the writer is determined to uphold their honor. Of course, here it will do without pistols, but still there is a theatrical note.

But that doesn't mean that Elliott is deliberately turning it into a theatre, oh no. He is fully prepared to fight this ill-mannered interlocutor on the battlefield, whether it be a verbal skirmish or a fist fight. Even if physical superiority is not on Elliott's side, he was able to successfully teach the offender a lesson, although now his nose is covered in blood. The Farmer, treating Elliott's wounds, must admit that they obviously did not expect this from him and were grateful for the support.

Sebastian:

Sebastian was surprised that the Farmer knew so little about social media. Like, they and Sebby are the same age, but if Sebastian himself makes magic with his programming skills, then the Farmer is more like an elder who was given a new phone by grandchildren and don't know how to use this device.

Therefore, Sebastian suggested that they create their own page on the Internet, where they will post their photos and posts on their favorite topics, for example, about farming, or life hacks on growing different crops. To which the Farmer happily agreed, rejoicing at the opportunity to put up tips that will help people. But, unfortunately, in addition to good people there will always be fools, trolls and bots in the vastness of the World Wide Web, which can not only spoil a person’s mood, but also put them into a depressive state.

Sebastian may still feel awkward talking to people face-to-face, but with a snap of his fingers, he will permanently ban nasty people from the Farmer's page while they don't see. Fair criticism is one thing, but just being toxic is another. Sebby won't just watch his friends get bullied by some idiots on the other side of the monitor, right?

Shane:

Shane doesn't get paid enough for this shit. Stupid boss, stupid Joja products, stupid co-workers (not counting Sam and that cashier). This was not enough for him, so now he saw through the window of the store how one of the Joja loaders clings to the Farmer. He can't make out what started the skirmish, but Shane heard loud and clear the phrases about the Farmer "our goods are better than yours", "bastard" and "bitch".

And at that moment, Shane's patience snapped. This pissed him off so much that he went to yell at that freak, not afraid of losing his miserable job.

Do you think Shane can't intimidate a bully enough? Have you ever seen his face when he's angry? This is the face of a man who will fight with God for the sake of people dear to him. For his aunt, goddaughter, chicken Charlie and the Farmer (friend or partner), he will tear off the offender's hands. Even though Morris issued a fine to both Joja employees for "spoiling the image of the company", Shane does not care. No one dares to offend them and think that the asshole will get away with it.

Harvey:

Merciful Yoba, give Harvey great patience. Because if he does not have enough patience, then brute force will come into play. What kind of stubborn fool do you have to be to get out of bed immediately after you had an emergency operation!?

The wounded Farmer after another adventure in the mines became an all-too-frequent sight in Harvey's clinic, but this time the case was quite dangerous. Harvey, as a professional in his field, quickly treated the Farmer's wounds, brought food and ordered them to rest for at least a couple of days. But they declared that the farm would wither without them and were preparing to get out of the hospital bed.

Because of this, Harvey's angelic patience finally snapped and he barked that he would tie the young troublemaker to the bed if they tried to get up again. This cooled the Farmer's ardor, and they obediently lay down again. Harvey, regretting his words, quickly apologized to the Farmer, explaining that he was very worried about their health no longer as a doctor, but as a friend (or more than a friend?). Every time he worries about their health, because they have become a close person to him. To which the ashamed Farmer also asked for forgiveness and thanked Harvey for his care and patience.

Sam:

After Sam's first concert ended successfully, he invited his band members and the Farmer to stay a little longer in Zuzu City for a bite to eat before the road. The Farmer offered to buy everyone burgers and sodas in the cafe while Sam, Sebby, and Abby took a table outside. It's been 30 minutes, and the Farmer still hasn't left the burger place, so Sam decided to check what took them so long. And the delay was because of another visitor to that cafe, who, in a drunken stupor, tried to prove to everyone that the Farmer had stolen their wallet. Neither the seller nor the Farmer themselves were able to calm down the raging visitor.

Sam approached the Farmer at the moment when the problem was solved by itself: no one stole the guy's wallet, he just put them in another pocket of his jacket. But instead of apologizing, the drunkard said that the Farmer could have stolen anyway.

To which Sam, with all his positive and ability to find a common language with everyone, barked at an unpleasant person, saying that the loser should get lost. His tirade somehow worked, and the man left. Sam doesn't like watching his friends get hurt, so he apologized if he scared the Farmer with his swearing. To which the Farmer themselves thank for the help and note that they have never heard such cursing from Sam. Well, yeah Sam is no longer a child! ... But anyway, don't tell his mother that he expressed himself like that, okay? For silence - delicious burgers, at his expense 😉

[swallowerofdharma]

Over Casca’s naked body

Part one: A long premise

We can’t escape from our geopolitical context even when we are reading manga. We have internalized a good amount of beliefs, values, practices, even regulations from our lived experiences and various simulacra we have been exposed to, especially those in an audiovisual form.

If you grew up in the US, you know that freedom of speech is a core value there. But, while you can say mostly whatever you want within your own country, the US constitution has given the government the right to regulate what comes in from abroad. [1]

And that power has been used. Idealistically, greater access to common technologies even before the internet should have seen a redistribution of the media-creating capacity to many foreign countries outside of the US, so that people could tell their stories. But that hasn’t always been the case, with some exceptions, especially if we consider the biggest narratives that reached global popularity.

During the Cold War, anything that might be considered “communist propaganda” could be seized by the Post Office and never delivered. Books or even souvenirs from communist countries, for instance. Pamphlets criticizing US foreign policy. (…) Obviously it wasn’t totally like North Korea, plenty of foreign movies and music were allowed into the US. But the media that caught on was either already Americanized, or so plastically exotic that it doesn’t really say anything about the culture where it is from. The Beatles were British, but they got their start covering American rock and roll musicians. When John Lennon stepped out of the line, the American government made sure that he knew it. Movies imported from Japan were mostly samurai flicks, with very few movies set in the modern day. The film Ikiru is widely considered the best Japanese film ever made (…) but this existential drama about a depressed lonely man was only given a limited release in California, and the poster was edited to feature a stripper who is only in the movie for one minute. The narrow stream of European movies that made into the USA came in the form of the French New Wave cinema, movies that were stylistically inspired by American films, but also so stuffy that few audiences would ever want to watch them anyway. This was further stifled by the Hays Code, a set of extremely strict regulations that were in place from 1934 to 1968. (…) Some things that were completely banned from ever being shown in any film included: bad guys winning. All movies must end with the police outwitting the evil criminals, or the criminals causing their own demise. Any nudity. (…) Blood or dead bodies. (…) Interracial couples. White people as slaves. Criticism of religion, or of any other country. Naturally this prevented the more artistically liberal European films from being shown in American cinemas and when they did get a release, they were usually edited (…). At least until the rules were abolished in 1968 and replaced by the age rating system we have today. [1]

Even after several decades of access to the internet and foreign cultures, some attitudes have been internalized and carried on. For example, I had direct experience of the ways my own culture has been perceived and stereotyped or interpreted in terms not dissimilar from the exotic. And the same happens to me probably if I don’t keep in check my own personal beliefs about cultures that have been presented to me in similar ways. And I was surprised to see by how deeply rooted and spread are certain attitudes towards punishment or violent retribution viewed as necessary, the policing and self policing, and the expression of judgments or condemnation, and all this can complicate the understanding of different forms of narratives and the acceptance of different cultural attitudes and norms, without the expression of any opinion about morality or legitimacy.

I am reminding you that this is a long premise because I evidently don’t have the gift of brevity but this article is about Berserk and Casca.

In 1956 Anna Magnani won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her first English-speaking role in the American movie The Rose Tattoo. In 1958 Miyoshi Umeki was the first Asian born actress to win an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress in Sayonara, a movie that despite its title was an American drama starring Marlon Brando. It isn’t hard to see in these decisions from the Academy, or the ones that followed in other categories, the willingness to build relationships between the US and specific foreign countries where the American army had a massive presence and that after WWII were ideal places for American investors, considering significant rebuilding necessary after the loss in the war. The movie industry and everything around it had instrumental roles. When it comes to the Academy Award, it is very interesting to notice that the women were the first ones to be nominated, becoming ambassadors and facilitators of the reshaping of the images of Italy and Japan from enemies to new essential strategic allies in the Cold War. And here comes the problem of the exotic, because after several decades I still see similarities in the American perception of those foreign cultures, Italian and Japanese, to those easy and friendly and intentionally constructed imaginaries of that time. Take the press around Anna Magnani or Miyoshi Umeki for example. Terms are so widely used and repeated that they are still in their Wikipedia pages in English today. For what interests me here, I am going to quote or summarize parts of the video essay listed below as [2] but I really recommend watching it entirely. It really helped me understand some of the issues I am talking about here, but it is much more than just this. And there is footage worth the time. [I know that many people here on tumblr really dislike YouTube videos. I understand why, when it comes to manga and anime, written articles have still better quality and content, in my opinion, but there are also many video essayists doing their due diligence on several other topics. And when I am busy cooking I put them on].

In the 1950s one of the problem with the new alliance with Japan was the widespread hate and racism towards Japanese people.

The government stepped in, producing educational films meant to endear Japanese culture to Americans (…) They showed off Japanese industry, introduced Americans to sushi and sumo wrestling, explained the country’s new democratic system et cetera. (…) A lot of [musical] acts that were popular with American soldiers, specifically exoticized Asian girls bands, like the Kim sisters and the Tokyo Happycoats, come over to the US and appear on television as both entertainment and a sort of cultural ambassadors, not only demonstrating America’s cultural power and dominance by performing recognizable American tunes, but also signaling to white Americans that those cultures didn’t pose a threat. (…)

It’s worth looking at this film [Sayonara] as part of a larger theme in a very specific post war moment. Gina Marchetti points out in her book Romance and the yellow peril: «Between June 22, 1947, and December 31, 1952, 10517 American citizens, principally Armed Services Personnel, married Japanese women. Over 75% of the total Americans are Caucasian». Meaning, Japanese war brides and the concept of interracial marriages was very much a conversation. (…) Sayonara must be seen as one of many films which called for a new evaluation of Japan as an enemy nation. (…) Much of the way [Miyoshi Umeki] was discussed is probably exactly how you might expect. The language journalists used to describe her was unambiguously racialized and often condescending. In the aftermath of her Oscar win, for example, Louella Parsons called her «a lovely little bit of Japanese porcelain», adding: «What a cute little thing she was in her native costume». Still, her Japanese identity also seemed to serve as a symbol, an embodiment of the new friendly Japan. In Miyoshi, Americans would find an idealized portrait of reconciliation, a woman who bore no resentment over the war, a woman who brought homesick American troops to tears by singing White Christmas, who adored American pizza, who learned English by listening to American records. She was accepted because she actively appreciated and participated in American culture. [2]

The roles offered to Miyoshi Umeki are significant in many ways. After Sayonara, she was cast to play other Asian characters besides Japanese ones. One recurring theme in those movies in particular is the contrast between modernity and tradition.

William G. Hyland writes, Flower Drum Song is a «clash between the Americanized lifestyle of the young Chinese and the traditions of their parents». (…) Miyoshi Umeki plays Mei Lee, a Chinese stowaway who arrives in the US for an arranged marriage. The more Americanized she becomes the more independent, the more willing she is to strike out on her own. [Chang-Hee] Kim writes: «[Flower Drum Song] flamboyantly shows that Asians in America were ready and willing to cast off their heritage and become real Americans in repudiation of the pre-war racial consideration of Asians as permanent aliens». I mention this not only because it’s one of Miyoshi’s major roles, but also because this theme, a supposed enlightenment via westernization, occurs again and again in her filmography, particularly in her work on television. Han [?] writes «Umeki’s representation on television is in constant oscillation between her status as a subservient Asian woman and her transformation into an assertive, modern female professional who has achieved independence through American cultural influence». [2]

Bear with me for a little longer if you can, because we are at the point where, watching the video, I experienced that sensation better translated visually in a lightbulb being turned on. I am skipping here the presentation of the story and footage from Miyoshi’s first appearance on television in The Donna Reed Show, but I once again invite readers to watch the video, which features high quality original footage. I was really struck by the “sensitive way” the American woman - Donna Reed I presumed - approaches the character played by Miyoshi, as the writers back then were well aware of the sensitive racial implications, and nevertheless a certain mentality pushes thought. Watching still, it is easier to avoid the presumption that in the 1960s “they didn’t know better” or that contemporary attitudes have improved greatly, just because we are more careful about the language we use.

The thesis statement of this episode is not subtle. The rejection of traditional Japanese customs allows her to live more fully in a democracy. Of course it isn’t really much of a choice, is it. Maintaining the customs of your culture or risking alienating your entire community. She changes her clothes, puts on a hat and goes shopping because she is an American now. Obviously these stories are told from the white American perspective, where this rejection of tradition and culture is portrayed as unambiguously positive and relatively tension free. This was not the case in Japan where the relationship between modernity and tradition were richly explored in cinema, particularly in women’s films. [2]

I would like to add that the independence that Donna’s character shows is only possible because of a series of factors, including the fact that her husband secures her a higher level of comforts, in comparison with lower classes or non-white Americans, and that domestic work is presumably done by home electrical appliances or other women, especially when you add child care and looking after the elderly to the equation. The unwillingness to consider those types of labor, traditionally carried on by women, as of equal importance to any other jobs is rarely discussed when it comes to the issue of women’s emancipation. Not to mention how, alongside this idyllic world shown on television, in the same country large numbers of women have to deal with continuous push backs in the name of different traditional values that all the same prevent many of them from achieving true equality. Those types of conversation and conflicts between traditional and modern happens at the same time in many countries and in most cases translates to continuous negotiations and compromises carried by men and women in real contexts and real situations, without necessarily white American women being aware of it or of all the necessary nuances.

Let me add this last element of conclusion about Miyoshi Umeki’s story.

In 2018 her son told Entertainment Weekly that in the 1970s she etched out her name on her Oscar and then threw the trophy away. Although he isn’t sure exactly why she did it he said: «She told me, I know who I am and I know what I did. It was a point of hers to teach me a lesson that the material things are not who she was». What Miyoshi Umeki achieved is pretty remarkable but one can’t help but feel that she could probably have done a lot more if she’d been allowed to move beyond her identity. [2]

Part two: Are we reading the same manga?

After considering all this, and more that I can possibly include in here to avoid this being even lengthier, I can’t help but wonder about the generalizations I have seen repeated vastly about portrayals of women in Japanese media, as well as misunderstanding of cultural attitudes towards nudity or the treatment of sensitive topics like sexuality and rape. There is a diffuse certain sense of entitlement, sometimes you can hear a condescending tone even, and this isn’t limited to the US. But why approach a foreign culture with a patronizing attitude instead of trying to understand the context more deeply? So many manga readers are willing to ask for clarification on translations, but not many ask about the context or the visual aspects involved in manga writing. I like to read analysis about different topics, so I look for them in English too because they are very numerous and easily accessible, but when it comes to the critique about the portrayal of women in too many cases I have to click away because of too many bias or that subtle sense of superiority of judgment. Berserk has become easily accessible and more and more popular but it is so greatly misunderstood at various degrees by a lot of its western readers - me included - and I really wanted to understand what is preventing, in most cases, a textual and contextual analysis.

The Hays Code hasn’t been around since 1968 but the sentiment that the only proper conclusion for every story is the triumph of the good guys and the punishment for the wicked is very much alive and well. There is this conviction that the only clever readers are those able to separate the heroes from the villains, or the good deeds from evil, and root for the right side to achieve retribution and satisfaction. The Hays Code hasn’t been enforced officially but it’s there in essence and every counter narrative has been rendered almost ineffective or judged poorly. As for the treatment of women, I don’t feel like we can honestly and surely compare or scrutinize Japanese media under special lenses. Nudity in comic books seems to me to be very common outside of Japan too, depending on censorship rules. I certainly notice how frequently Casca is shown naked or has been threatened with sexual violence, but I also notice that she isn’t the only one. The exaggeration of Guts’ muscles and the mutilation of his body are largely put on display. Griffith is intentionally shown fully naked, or completely covered by an elaborate armor, and he is subjected to many threats of physical and sexual violence as well. Charlotte is shown naked, but always in her bedroom, in a private environment or with a transparent cloth or a sheet of some kind to make her nudity different from the occasions when Casca’s body is publicly displayed. I am careful with my own thoughts when I read Berserk, I take the time to analyze my reactions and what I am feeling in these situations. I think that this is the reason that certain books or media are intentionally aimed to adults. I don’t feel a necessity to call to censorship or to give guidance of a moral kind but rather to make the necessary reflections. And I can’t imagine how someone can understand the story without taking their time with it. Part three: Casca’s rape

In 1973 the animation studio Mushi Production released a film called Belladonna of Sadness. I haven’t seen it yet but I know a little about it and I am planning to watch it when I feel like I can do it without being affected in a bad way. It is well known that Miura remembered this film when he designed the Eclipse. In 1975 Pier Paolo Pasolini directed the film Salò or the 120 Days of Sodom, which I strongly don’t recommend to the casual viewer or anyone who felt even slightly offended by Berserk. Suffice to say that in a particular political climate and in the context of the sexual revolution of the late 1960s, in the 1970s nudity and sexuality were at the forefront of the debate and human bodies were exhibited in a symbolic way that can be misunderstood today without knowledge of the context. Gender expression was questioned and men grew their hair or refused to wear suits or to follow rigid dress codes regardless of their sexual orientation. Sexual acts were considered political acts in ways that aren’t comparable with today for many reasons. The languages, the words and the visuals we use are ever changing and actual for a moment and gone the next one or misunderstood. Many words used by queer people in the 1970s wouldn’t be received well today, because the context has been transformed. For what I understand, in films like Belladonna of Sadness and Salò rape and cruelty are preeminently used as symbols because rape and cruelty presented in a direct visual form effect greatly any type of audience and can’t go unnoticed. The sociopolitical climate in the 1970s, in the middle of the Cold War, was particularly violent, both in Italy and Japan, and the art of the time can be remarkably bleak. [Go Nagai’s Devilman was published between 1972 and 1973, Osamu Tezuka’s MW was published between 1976 and 1978, Takemiya Keiko’s Kaze to Ki no Uta was also published between 1976 and 1984].

Kentarō Miura was born in 1966, he breathed the air and grew up in that same climate and was influenced and informed by it, especially later, when he finds himself as a young man in the renewed bleakness of the 1990s. It is likely that he saw Belladonna of Sadness when he was old enough, when he started to develop the story of Berserk, and after being greatly influenced by Nagai’s Devilman. The number of sources of inspirations that Miura used for Berserk is vast, varied and multidimensional and includes books and novels and films of various genres (historical, fantasy, horror, sci-fi in particular) manga, foreign comics books, and traditional art. It is often pointed out among fans that he was also a big fan of Star Wars. Pop Culture Detective released a very interesting video essay called Predatory Romance in Harrison Ford Movies [3] that brought to my attention many things that I didn’t notice or thought about when I was seeing those films myself as a young girl [I am more or less a decade younger than Miura fyi]. Analyzing Star Wars, Indiana Jones or Blade Runner with particular attention to the relationship between the male lead, Ford, and women is an interesting exercise and helps to re-contextualize our judgment about the treatment of women across different media with arguably less reach than Star Wars. I am not inviting anyone to make comparisons and ranking which is better, or absolve Miura because he was influenced by the context around him as everyone else, but I am asking to let go of the presumption that Japanese media in particular presents problematic attitudes towards women by default. The problems are much more generalized than we’d probably like. Better analysis or methodologies are needed to make a proper assessment, and we really shouldn’t assume by default that manga (for boys and men) equals bad treatment of women.

I hope that someone is still reading after such a long time. I didn’t know how to make my point on Casca without at least presenting some of these considerations. I must say I have understood myself better, having questioned why I was feeling uncomfortable when reading Casca but not offended. I understood that Miura wanted me to feel that way, uncomfortable, horrified, and I can appreciate Berserk better [in particular as a person that wasn’t permitted to live in a female body without a certain type of violence].

As stated previously, I noticed that Casca is more exposed and shown in all her vulnerability in much extreme situations: to multiple men in very public displays, like on the battlefield or at the center of the circle of Apostles in the Eclipse. She is also shown naked and vulnerable in other moments, especially alone with Guts. Those intimate moments with Guts, during the Golden Age, are instrumental for the readers to see her in all her humanity, without the armor, or the female dress, in order to build an emotional connection with her. In the cave, Casca makes herself emotionally vulnerable in front of Guts for the first time and tells him her story, exposing her past, her goals and her true self. She tells him things about Grittith too, things that are meant to show Guts/the readers Griffith as much naked, vulnerable and human as she is. Let’s pay attention and try to recollect Guts’ reactions to her story: he is listening to her, but he is embarrassed, distracted and attracted by her nudity and he fails to see Griffith as a human being, potentially fallible and not much different from Casca or himself. Guts also fails to take away from the story the original message, something more than Casca’s infatuation with Griffith as part of her being a woman. Comparing Guts’ reactions to Casca’s nakedness, his recollections or focus on the conversation, what he takes from it and what he doesn’t: a big part of the male readership of Berserk is probably in his same situation. It isn’t till later by the waterfall, that we see Casca alone with Guts again in an intimate way. This time he is naked and vulnerable and completely exposed too. This time through the physical connection between the two, within the sexual act, Guts can’t hide himself anymore, can’t deflect from his past and his fears. I assume that that is an important moment for the male readership to start to feel emotionally invested in the connection between Guts and Casca. That emotional connection and the investment in the relationship helps them to see Casca as a human being through the Eclipse and if that didn’t work then they still can see and feel the horror of the rape of Casca through Guts. Because Miura didn’t want anyone to enjoy that scene or to be sexually aroused without at least the horror and the moral objection to it.

Casca is a woman of color, born in a disadvantaged family and community, that ended up in a mercenary group without achieving the things she wanted, never fully belonging and constantly threatened by groups of men on the enemy side with forms of violence specifically targeted and unnecessary cruel. And everything she goes through culminates or goes back to the Eclipse - before and after - and that should be taken as completely symbolic. Like the multiple instances of rape in Pasolini’s Salò, the innocent, poor and exploitable youth is violated by those in power or those who are in charge. Gambino decides that Guts is expendable or due a lesson in humility, he takes the money and coldly facilitates Guts’ rape. Gennon is rich and powerful and pretends to recreate his fantasy, a sick version of Greek ped*philia. And all he does is using money and power to horrifically exploit the youth and Griffith offers himself up and loses a fundamental part of himself in the process. But the most cruel thing in Berserk is Griffith surrendering to the call of power and doing the same thing to Casca, in the absence of lust or desire: the corruption that has been in him - and has reached Guts as well - has spread. Griffith’s surrender to the call of power, and his intolerance for more of his own pain, silences all empathy in him.

In conclusion, nudity has various narrative functions, beside the suggestion of the erotic: through each character’s naked body, male or female, we see their vulnerability and their fundamental humanity [and if I remember correctly in contrast the rapists are always dressed or covered]. And rape has a symbolic meaning, beside the literal one and the psychological exploration of trauma. Violence but in particular sexual violence is one of the most estreme and powerful tools that can be used in stories [especially in visual media], but unfortunately the overuse of it in an edulcorate format, or as a tease, or devoid of any meaning, has ceased to call for disgust and challenge us to think, has perhaps lessen the impact and the gravity around it. In the 1970s Pasolini saw the dark side of the sexual revolution and how the rich and powerful were willing to build economic empires just to have access to the youth and to the most beautiful women. But he wasn’t the only one. We should reconsider Belladonna of Sadness and the original meaning of those themes in films or later in manga like Berserk and think about it deeply and seriously and not approach every piece of art as entertainment.

Videography:

How America got so Stupid [1]

Miyoshi Umeki: The First East Asian Woman to Win an Acting Oscar [2]

Predatory Romance in Harrison Ford Movies [3]

[nimata-beroya]

20 Questions For Writers

This was sitting on my notifs for a few days and i finally took the time to do it. Thank my darling @takadasaiko for the tag!! 💕💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 88 works in total, 31 of which are for Star Wars.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

574,873 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I'm only writing for Star Wars. But I used to write for Arrow and Supergirl, and ASoIAF, Dark-Hunters and Chronicles of Nick are in standby. I'm waiting for right motivation to come back to any of the last 3.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I'm only talking about Star Wars fics here...

Kadala (The Mandalorian) [and 4th place in most kudos of all my works]

Rough Awakening (The Bad Batch) [and 5th place in most kudos of all my works]

Welcome to Yavin IV (Rebels)

An Explosive Situation (Rebels)

Rescue on Ryloth (The Bad Batch)

And the the rest of my all-time fics with most kudos are

Take Your Breath Away (Arrow)

Undisclosed Desires (Arrow)

Made For You (ASoIaF/Game of Thrones)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try my best, but sometimes I forget, and then it's been weeks and months since I got the comments that I'm embarrassed to reply them after so long. Even though, I think it's important that a writer let the reader/commenter that they appreciate it, even if it's with a simple "thank you" or an emoji. I know I'm being a hypocrite here since I fail to do what I preach, but it doesn't make it less true.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think that would be Drifting, because it's kind of open ending, left to be interpreted, so it could end however the reader wants. Although, I left an author's note at the end saying what's my preferred ending, which always will be inclined to the happy side.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

High Above the Ground because is the happy ending i want for Commander Fox and Riyo Chuchi. They deserve only the best!

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

No, not really. I've gotten only 1 stupid message of someone criticizing a fic, but that was years ago when I still posted on FF dot net. The joke was on the reader because I moderated all the comments there so I just deleted it and nobody saw it but me. Honestly, I just laughed about it cuz their argument was just stupid.

9. Do you write smut?

I do, all kinds -from the most tame thing to the most perverted. But I used to wrote way more in my old fandoms, especially for Arrow. I think for Star Wars I've written just 1 or 2 smutty fics, and tamed at that.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I've tried a couple of occasions but never finished them. I'm not opposed to them obviously, but I do think the combination of fandoms has to be just right to work. Or at least, when it's me doing the writing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes! Many, many years ago in the first fandom I ever wrote for. It was awful and hated it! You see, this was in the stone age of the internet when fandom specific sites abounded and not everyone had an account on FFnet yet (and Ao3 was not even a dream). The site I published on was split in 2 sections because the ships war in the fandom was bloody and ruthless, so to avoid the slaughter, I kept myself in my preferred side. But one day, a friend who read fic on both sides told me that someone stole my fics. Avoiding to get caught, the person who did it published them under a pen name that was almost exact to mine, she only added a period at the end, which could easily go unnoticed. Oh, and she interchanged characters names so it'd fit the other ship.

At first, my friend thought I had posted them but she knew I'd never write for that ship, like ever. In the end, it turned out that I wasn't the only one who had being plagiarized. Several people ON BOTH SIDES were. Thankfully, the person was caught and banned, but we almost burned the site down because of the whole shitshow.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

By me, yes, several. All into Spanish (my mother tongue). By others, not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes! A couple of times for different fandoms, and I loved it. I hope I'll do it again. The thing is that you need to find the right partner for it, or it can be a nightmare.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

I don't appreciate this question, let me tell you. It's hard to choose. But I think I have to go with Olicity. I love them still (even if the show ending ruined it for me). Close second would be Braime (and I'm glad that there's still hope for them on the books, because as usual the show fucked them so but sooooo bad)

And as Star Wars specific, I don't think anyone will be surprised if I say it's Kalluzeb, right 🤣 They're my babies and I adore them!

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Anything for Arrow or Supergirl. I sworn off those fandoms after their respectively awful endings.

No promises, but there's still hope for all if my unfinished works for Star Wars 😅

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Coming up with ideas. So, so many ideas. All the time and I want to write them all.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Finishing writing the above-mentioned ideas. I tend to splay myself too much when I'm writing, and it takes me forever to get to the portion I really want to write (usually the idea that sparked the whole writing process) and I lose steam. That's why I have so many unfinished WIPs. I wish they'd write themselves.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's ok if used sparingly. A word here, a phrase over there is fine, but if a wall of dialogue that the reader needs to scroll down to the notes or click on a tooltip to find out the meaning it's the worst!!! A better solution for a writer that really needs/wants to have a whole conversation in another language for plot reasons or whatever, then all they need to do is to say once that the characters are talking in the other language and put the dialogue in the same language they've been writing the rest of the narrative and in italic.

The characters who don't speak the language won't understand what's being said, but the reader will and their reading will be more pleasant and fluid.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

An Argentinian show called Floricienta. A modern retelling of Cinderella.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I don't like this question either! All my fics are my babies! How do you want me to choose?!! There are so many I'm proud of. I guess I'll point the most recent one: Feed Me Poison, Fill me till I Drown I really like how this story is coming along. It's not done yet (what else is new? 😅) but what's coming is so so good!

Tagging (no pressure): @renee561 @thecoffeelorian @genericficerblog @airlockfailure @mistr3ssquickly @insertmeaningfulusername @fanfictasia

[infjinthecity]

An Introvert And Her Cat

I imported my cat from Australia to China. When I took the job, I told my employers that if I couldn’t get Jonas safely into the country, then I wouldn’t take the job. We go together, Jonas and I. If you look at the header for my blog, you'll see an animated version of the little guy there too. I put him in the header because this is just as much his journey as it is mine.

He is a purebred Siamese and he'll be 7 in January, but before you judge me for buying a cat rather than adopting, I didn’t buy him. I agreed to look after him for a relative for a while and he moved into my house at just eight months old. Obviously, since he's still with me, he never left. He’s a special little guy. He’s tiny and pretty janky. He had all his teeth, except two, removed at the age of three because he was born with bad teeth and developed periodontal disease after about a year and a half of his life. He was the runt of his litter, but he really is very small, even for the runt. And, he’s got a really problematic relationship with food. Even when he moved in with me at just eight months old, he was the fussiest animal I’d ever met. Now that he has no teeth, he’s shocking when it comes to food. And whenever he experiences ANYTHING in life, he stops eating. I call these ‘hunger strikes’. If he’s stressed, he doesn’t eat. Depressed? Good luck. If we move house, he freaks out and won't touch anything. A vet in the United States told me that all of his health issues, his food problems, and his size are probably the result of inbreeding. So, Jonas is a lesson to all: do not get your cats from a breeding house. They were obviously not careful enough with his bloodlines and now my baby has all these problems, and he's the one that suffers, you know?

I had to leave him with my mother when I first came to China. I didn’t have a place to live when I got here so I couldn’t bring him with me when I initially got here. Then, there was all kinds of drama trying to work out when I would be able to go home and pick him up, and in the end, he had to stay with my mum for two months. Apparently, that was too long, and my mum said he got really depressed, like he thought I’d abandoned him. He tried to attach himself to Mum instead, but she kept him at arm’s length because she knew it would be even more traumatic to lose her as well when he finally got here.

He arrived exactly one week ago today and it’s been an up and down week. He was so excited to see me when we got him home but he was still very wary of his surroundings. He didn’t eat anything that first night but by the next day my mum, who brought him to China and was still in the country, managed to get him to eat some KFC. He ate a little bit, but not too much. We tried to move him back to his usual food after that over the course of the week with varying degrees of success. My mum left to go home two days ago and he’s gone back into a cycle of discontent. I did manage to get him to eat a whole piece of KFC last night, but this is definitely not a long term solution.

To everyone reaching out to me on socials with advice on how to prompt him to eat, I’m trying all the things you’re suggesting. I’m hoping he settles down in a couple of days and just goes back to being my baby Jonas. He’s been through so much change, and he’s a very very sensitive little soul so it’s probably just going to take him some time. Jonas not eating is not a new thing, but KFC has always done the trick in the past and it’s just not working it’s magic this time around.

But now that he’s here, he cannot go back to Australia. My country has an import ban on live animals from China. Don’t ask me why. The United States has all the same pet diseases that China does, and I was allowed to import him from the United States into Australia (with a mandatory quarantine), but from China is just a hard no. So we’re either here in China now for the longer term (until he dies), or if we decide we really want to go back to Australia, we’ll move to another country for a year, which will satisfy the Australian Government, and they’ll let him in then. But this is the third country Jonas has lived in and clearly he doesn’t like moving, so I’m hoping that I can pitch up here for the longer term so I don’t have to uproot him again. But, the world is in quite a state right now and you never know what is going to happen in the future, so I’m in the business of saying never say never right now.

Moving a pet around the world is horrendously expensive and when I tell people how much money I’ve spent on Jonas’ travels, they nearly fall over. But he’s my Jonas, you know? I made a promise to him that I would take care of him forever and give him the best life I could, and that means we go together – always. So, if I can’t take Jonas somewhere with me, I just don’t go – end of story.

My house has felt very much like a hotel in the last two months because he hasn't been here, and it’s been so nice to go home and snuggle with him every day this week. I am sure you’ll see Jonas on this blog a lot. I can’t seem to shut up about how much I love him!

Till next time, peace!

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

pentiment review & thoughts

so. i played pentiment. writing this while at my 4th play (with my first and third as same stats, different accusations). bookworm, hedonist, bookworm again, and now businessman. having a lot of fun so far.

was prompted bc 1) this game is a common rec for disco elysium players, 2) i got andreas maler in a blorbo uquiz, so of course i had to see what the fuss was about

spoilers, obviously:

prefacing first that. uh, i got into this game with relatively surface-level understanding of the late middle ages/early renaissance, and like very little of how this impacted germany. god bless the glossary. the only thing really guiding me was being catholic + my familiarity with benedictines (the people who ran the all-girls catholic school i studied in) so uh

given that, my 1st andreas had his wanderjahre in Italy, is a bookworm with skills towards Oratory and Logic, possessing a Master's in Theology. this will be about the first play

act i

what an introduction. i played off my andreas as an intellectual with a love for God but also a concern for people regardless of class, and i just went around being as respectful as possible. emphasis on "as possible," bc i can refuse to be a Lutheran and still criticize the abbey actually <- pissed off both gernot and rothvogel

the DRUCKERS! my best friends :)

spent much of my dinners with the farmer-peasants. had a meal with sebhat as well. tassing is so alive!!!

the implication that andreas fell asleep if you choose to watch matthieu and rüdeger go at it is very funny to me. monk sex is boring ig. also sorry zdena, im too worried about piero to fuck you right now

why did i think the baron was just an intellectual outcast. of course he's an asshole who abuses his power

THE KIDS! THEY ARE SO LOVELY!

none of these suspects feel like the murderers. tbh i probably should've settled on lucky bc he had the most damning evidence in retrospect. but ferenc just had more, and i was able to push him to the archdeacon

i am a coward and did not look at the execution

act ii

this Andreas just came from France!

"you are banned from the abbey, but i need you to come join me for dinner" okay father gernot???

the golden hand inn looks sooo pretty. surprised i could only make conversation with samuel until the troops were like, really close/the drinking quest

things got worse, a revolt is in formation. this was apparently a trend all over germany at the time, and not limited to tassing. weirdly familiar huh

when you want to escape from your problems via involving yourself from the problems others instead

caspar my boy! im glad to have known you

the Sommerfelds are so lovely

these aqueducts are so cool

it was so much easier to pick Guy, as far as the evidence i got on him is concerned. your embezzlement had an effect on the abbey's management of tassing, which is now biting all of you in the ass

i knew Lenhardt was an ass but i didnt think he'd go as far as to protect the accused

that ending holy shit

act iii

haha i opened tumblr before getting here and got spoiled about the mysterious guy following magdalene

my magdalene bg is Vitae Sanctorum, Bookkeeping, Haggle, & Volksbücher

Ötz you are adorable but you do not suit Magda at all

it does not help that the town ships the two

every single theme is coming together. the question... of history!

the letter writing being so prominent here is very felt

the familiar and unfamiliar are so clouded as time progresses, its insane

apparently ill peter can live *that* long

i learned the hard way after my first run that werner will be an outright asshole in act iii if andreas doesnt speak with him well via my second run; see, my major and only interaction with the guy in run 1 is during the drinks quest in act ii. the difference is stark

martha pfieffer i wish i got more time with you <- got her contemplating the monastic life in the 1st run only? i wonder what triggers this

fucked up that i couldnt send sister susanne out. i think i played my magda too nice with the nuns

snitched on the twins immediately whoops. this is fine, i can go down the mines myself

haha i thought baltas was an act iii-only character, i straight up didnt interact with him during act ii and probably forgot he spoke during the discovery of otto's body

the readying for christmas was sooo brain-sctatchy. seeing the direct effects of our choices in the previous acts, it's so!!!

gotta be real, i thought the discussions on historiography and historical revisionism were like, just there? i didn't think it would be the core of the problem but. of course it is. it makes me feel very stupid for not pointing at father thomas sooner

like, if you spend significant amounts of time with the guy enough, his distrust of collective lay men and assertion towards the authority of the church is like, very very obvious. you see it during the dinner with the baron. when he says the words that triggers peter into burning the abbey. when you talk about claus publishing the 12 articles and agreeing upon the suggestion of banning book reading. the story of how he and sister amalie escaped the fire from their old abbey. in my 3rd run, i got strong hints when i (andreas) decided to eat with the albans (fr. thomas is present in the meal), particularly when discussing the strictness of the abbot

also, notably, in my 3rd run, during the conversation with father thomas for the christian tassing quest, a Vitae Sanctorum Magdalene can ask about the veracity of the story regarding the marian apparition, our lady of the labyrinth. when father thomas asks why she's pondering on it, if Magda is also of Volksbücher bg, she can bring up comparisons to a story she read about a man who tricked a town into believing a head he possessed was a relic from a saint. Father Thomas will then outright ask whether Magdalene thinks that it is valid of the guy to lie about that. Whatever you make Magda respond, he clearly values it. that fucked me up upon discovery, especially since i chose not to question the story of the church in my first run. that's outright foreshadowing, especially since that conversation literally takes place inside said church

anyways, i considered for a moment as to how conscious Sister Amalie was about the notes she wrote. to my fury (against thomas) and relief (for her), she was very unaware. fucking hell, i love christian mystics, and i outright ignored the implications of father thomas as her interpreter

like, i knew such interpreters would twist the testimonies of mystics to assert the church's authority, but. i assumed that this, like the obvious real-time historical revisionism in-game, was just shit that happens. not the core. another blow to my observation skills, but what matters to me is that i figured it out eventually

i had an inkling claus would die but not like that D":

like. magda on christmas eve. dad's friend is back from the dead. the town priest has been responsible for the deaths of people who risked the secrets of the town. dad is dead. idk if the devs over there are interested in spin-offs, but the time between christmas 1543 and when magda leaves for prague should be known

the müller kids really take after their parents, and seeing them interact with old man maler really warmed my heart

ugh, what a lovely game. it deserves its praises

[meowkavian]

Very long and complicated post about Japan and Judaism/Israel ahead. Please read if you can.

A video of a pro-Israel Japanese demonstration kept popping up and it was making me think and gave me a hefty feeling of worry and skepticism.

I shouldn’t have to preface this also by saying I don’t support the decisions of the Israeli government, but people with no nuance on this site love to think Jews are a monolith, and I don’t want to go into the whole “good Jew bad Jew” “dual loyalty” thing because that’s a WHOLE other thing.

I also preface this by saying that I’m not a Japanese citizen. However, I did live and work in Japan and have been traveling there since 2016 for internships. I do not claim to be an expert on Japan or Jewishness. All that follows is what I experienced as a Jewish person that lived in Japan.

Japan is a country with a very little Jewish population (estimated less than 2000, most of which are not legally considered citizens) with a significant lack of knowledge of actual Jewish people or culture, with very few safe spaces for people who are Jewish to have community. More on this later.

There isn’t a lot of knowledge, among young people especially, about the Holocaust, for instance, that hasn’t been watered down at least a bit, in my experience. This isn’t just a problem with Japan’s comfort with Jewish people and Judaism, but with its own lack of accepting and owning up to its own bloody histories especially during World War II. Whitewashing history isn’t just a Japanese problem obviously, but it’s a pretty egregious one Japan has in respect to mistreating indigenous cultures, ethnic Koreans and what is disgustingly called “comfort women”.

While I was working in Japan I assisted in the set up of a peace exhibit which in part, due to my efforts, discussed the atrocities of the Holocaust and the artwork from the children kept in the Terezin concentration camp. I was in touch with one scholar who was essentially the voice on Japanese knowledge of Terezin. I brought up my Jewishness multiple times, but it always had a feeling it was being brushed over.

A lot of the panels lent to us by her mentioned Judaism only from the idea that we were victims, without discussion of anything about our culture or context. Even when the scholar spoke of the atrocities, Judaism was barely mentioned outside of being a descriptor of something banned from schools, or put into ghettos.

So many people who visited the exhibit knew nothing about Terezin, had never heard of it, never knew the extent of the horrible conditions in the camps. Some reacted openly by sobbing and crying out during her speech, proving the lack of knowledge. I was raised alongside the children of Terezin’s pictures as a young Jewish child; I grew up with stories of the Holocaust and pogroms from such an early age I never had a chance not to know it.

The majority of what I experienced as a Jewish person who has lived in Japan for some time exposed me to the fact that the majority of what touts itself to be pro-Jewish resources is Messianic Judaism, which is not Judaism. Many of the Jewish resources other than that are from Chabads, of which there are maybe a handful scattered around Japan. Even less of these are Jewish community centers or synagogues. A multitude of fringe, new and Christianity based religions that lay claim to Israel do have presences here. Many of those religions, including Messianic Judaism are known to appropriate Hebrew as a “sacred language”.

Antisemitism is rampant in Japan, even if it’s not always outright. Nazi symbolism appears in cosplay and decorations and fashion as an image of “counterculture” or “punk.” When it’s not outright, it’s ignorance and the discussions of new world orders. It’s a common thought that there really aren’t any Jews in Japan.

When I saw that pro-Israel demonstration, I looked for any outward display of Judaism. In Japan there’s a strong possibility that by participating in protests or demos you can get your visa revoked and get deported.

In that demo there was no one wearing kippahs, or tallit. They sang in Hebrew but it didn’t make me feel better. It just made me wonder, where is this coming from? Because if your support of Israel really and truly meant your support of Jewish people, it doesn’t seem like it.

[torturedcoveydepartment]

The Tortured Poets Department but it’s all tbosas (two favorite things combined, cannot get any better. Both pivotal for my well-being) 🤍

1. Fortnight

A period of 14 days, so I’d like to say it’s something the mentors put together during the preparation and running of the hunger games. Perhaps even one of the tributes? Though I believe the calamitous events of suffering went on for a week or so (reaping to death)

2. The tortured poets department

Definitely about our dear favorite covey. Referencing to themselves as tortured poets in the way of being locked down, unable to use their voices to express their minds freely due to peacekeepers banning their songs (such as with the hanging tree) The feeling of being told what’s right and wrong about THEIR EMOTIONS. Obviously also from the mistreatment.

3. My boy only breaks his favorite toys

Ladies, gentlemen and beautiful souls - it’s time for a Lucy Gray ballad about Billy Taupe begging at her feet, as well as Coriolanus fucking up. I don’t believe it would be a downbeat melody, but a real statement.

4. Down bad

Coryo realizing he’s in love with both the lovely district 12 songbird, and his handsome friend originally from 2. Said what I said.

5. So long, London (So long, Panem)

A song the covey’s ancestors left behind as they got killed during the dark days. It’s about how they saw Panem change, and that what they used to know is long gone. Their nomadic days are over. Their freedom is gone.

6. But daddy I love him

OKAYOKAY my very first thought was Sejanus confessing with teary eyes to his father about his feelings and caring for Coriolanus. How he wishes him the best even if he got caught cheating in the game.

7. Fresh out the slammer

CORIOLANUS COMIN BACK FROM 12 HAHA

8. Florida!!! (Once again, we’re changing it to “Panem!!!���)

Grandma’am singin about her beloved country of Panem. Poor Tigris and Coryo are about to suffer through another one of her banger morning concerts.

9. Guilty as sin?

Lucy Gray accused herself, putting the blame on herself for being “responsible” for the deaths of children in the arena. Wouldn’t point directly onto the victims, but use metaphors to make the situation transparent for those who knew her in and out.

10. Who’s afraid of little old me?

Young age, old soul. Why am I imagining Maude Ivory singing something about people not taking her seriously cause of her age. Invalidating her feelings & fear when Lucy Gray got reaped.

11. I can fix him (No really I can)

First thought is ironically enough Livia Cardew? Though I believe a great amount of people viewed the blond boy’s change as an empowerment of the state, unwilling to even try and change his obvious controversial behavior (apart from dear Tigris)

12. Loml

Barb Azure to her girlfriend <3 IDK I THINK IT’S SO CUTE?!?! Now let’s wait and see if it really means “love of my life”, or ends up being “loss of my life”.

13. I can do it with a broken heart

Lucy Gray can do anything at any fateful condition. Even with a broken heart she will kick the ass of anyone who does her wrong.

14. The smallest man who ever lived

SLAP EM LUCY GRAY BAIRD. Definitely pointed against her former lovers assholes who betrayed her. None of them will ever manage to break her, because she’s stronger than any haunting scar.

15. The alchemy

GAUL GAUL GAUL LMAO. The most absurd thing about this scary woman is how she enjoys chemistry and biological genetic engineering?

16. Clara Bow

Old covey song from centuries ago about a tortured actress, first it-girl and country’s thirsting desire.